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#college basketball odds
90363462 · 1 year
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Congratulations 🎉🎈🍾🎊 to the Georgia bulldogs for winning their college football national championship for the second year in a row .
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hakeemakbar · 10 days
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2024 March Madness Bracket Picks | 2024 NCAA Tournament Picks, Odds | College Basketball Picks
Pat Mayo, Ben Rasa, and Gabriel Morency fill out their 2024 March Madness Bracket Picks for the NCAA Tournament. Plus, they give out their sleeper teams and potential bracket busters.
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tonyspicks · 1 year
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Alabama Crimson Tide vs 24 Texas A&M Aggies 3/4/2023 Picks Predictions Previews
Alabama Crimson Tide vs 24 Texas A&M Aggies 3/4/2023 Picks Predictions Previews by Tonys team of professional handicappers who research College Basketball. Visit Us for Free Football Sports Picks, NBA Free Picks, Free NCAAF Picks, Free NCAAB Picks, Free NFL Picks and Free College Basketball Picks
Visit: https://tinyurl.com/5chyrrzh
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kookslastbutton · 16 days
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
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Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
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“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
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“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
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For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
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"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
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Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
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a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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flkwh0re · 17 days
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Team Player
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Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding
A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭
Word count: 1,568
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Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.
That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.
It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.
Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.
As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.
“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.
“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.
What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.
Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.
“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”
After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”
You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.
Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.
She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.
Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”
A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.
“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.
“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.
“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.
Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.
Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.
Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.
Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.
Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.
She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.
Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.
Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.
“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.
You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.
With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”
You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.
Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.
She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.
“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.
Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.
Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.
You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.
Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.
“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.
Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.
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allfifaworldcup · 1 year
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North Carolina vs. The Citadel prediction, odds: 2022 college basketball picks, Dec. 13 bets from proven model
North Carolina vs. The Citadel prediction, odds: 2022 college basketball picks, Dec. 13 bets from proven model
Hubert Davis and the North Carolina Tar Heels host a non-conference game on Tuesday evening as they welcome The Citadel Bulldogs to Chapel Hill. The Citadel is 5-4 overall and 2-2 in true road games this season. North Carolina is 6-4 overall and 5-0 at the Dean Smith Center this season. Tip-off in Chapel Hill is 7 p.m. ET. Caesars Sportsbook lists the Tar Heels as 25.5-point favorites at home,…
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churipu · 2 months
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( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen
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featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k
ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."
tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
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sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.
on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.
the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.
despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.
"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."
then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.
you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.
sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.
the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.
see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.
"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.
"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"
sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.
"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.
"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.
"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"
"do y'like them?"
like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.
"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.
yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.
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sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.
so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.
while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.
"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.
the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.
"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.
"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.
and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."
sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.
"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."
sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?
like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.
"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.
sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.
yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."
sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."
the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"
"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."
sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"
good point.
"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."
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sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.
"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.
you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?
and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.
"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.
". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"
sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.
the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.
". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.
and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.
"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"
sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.
"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.
"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.
with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."
see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."
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the gods are on his side.
"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.
sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.
why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.
indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.
"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.
the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.
"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.
"you like my brother?"
you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.
"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.
"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.
"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.
rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.
his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).
saved by the lecturer.
"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.
"yeah, sure."
" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."
once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."
"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.
"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."
absolutely not. sukuna thought.
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yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.
sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.
yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?
on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.
a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"
sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."
yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.
you nodded, "we're okay."
okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."
the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?
"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.
you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.
"are you scared of me?"
sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"
you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.
"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.
you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."
oh.
sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.
"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.
"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.
"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.
"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.
"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.
sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"
you hummed, "i guess so."
to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.
"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"
you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"
your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.
rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."
sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"
the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."
"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.
a win for him today.
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"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.
"i'm ryo now."
"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"
not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.
"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"
yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"
sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."
"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"
a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.
sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.
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© IPINVRSE 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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ynsvnte · 18 days
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Keep me trapped, don’t take me back ! — Lee Heeseung
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Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!), college, jock x nerd?, fluff, est. relationship
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings: pet names, unprotective sex, begging, degrading , jealous sex, rough?sex, fingering, possessiveness, swearing, kissing, creampie, breeding
Pairing: jock!hee x fem!reader
Masterlist
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You walked into the gym noticing the basketball team having practice today. You stop in your tracks looking at one of the players make his shot in the hoop. You're quite impressed to say the least. That’s until you hear someone call your name, making you turn your head. You see, it's Lee Heeseung. The popular jock everyone would say. To cut it short he’s your boyfriend. A dream come true, right? You don’t know how, but you managed to catch his attention during one of his games. Heeseung fell in love with you in mere seconds. Oh how you were so cute with your glasses. Focused on the game. He wanted you to be focused on him. But this was during your sophomore year of college. Which was 2 years ago. Now senior year.
“Hey Yn!” Heeseung runs towards you pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back trying to not get his sweat onto you.
“Babe you’re sweating..” you say looking up at him. He only chuckles before kissing your forehead. Letting go of the hug. “Can you stay for practice, of course if you’re not busy..” you smile at his consideration. “I’ll stay. That’s why I came here in the first place..” Heeseung smiles at you before running back to the court.
You sit on the bleachers, watching him practice. That’s until you notice his teammate. You don’t know his name. But all you know is that he is a very very good player. Almost making everyone shot. No one noticed..or so you thought.
But heeseung did. Despite you being sort of far away from him. He can see your stares at the guy. He had no problems with the guy. But he did it the way you were staring at the guy and not him. You should only be looking at him. Heeseung was tapped on the shoulder, causing him to look away from you before focusing on practice.
Hour later, practice finally ended. You sit up and stretch your body before walking down to heeseung. “You did well today…” you said handing him a towel and a bottle of water. Heeseung nodded. Odd he would usually hug you with his sweaty body. You stand awkwardly. Hoping he would say something. Heeseung grabs his bag before dragging you by your hand, taking you to his car. Heeseung unlocks his car before making you get in. You felt something incredibly wrong. You wait for him to enter the driver's seat. You both sit there in awkward silence. “You okay?” You finally decided to ask. Heeseung stays quiet for a bit before sighing. “No..” No, what happened? You’re sure nothing bad happened at practice, everything went just fine. “N-no why?” You slightly stuttered on your words due to you being nervous. “Ha- why? You should know this princess already..” Already know? What did you do? You’re sure you didn’t do anything wrong. “I know?”
“Yes..you know..” you shake your head, denying it “I don’t..what do you mean…” Heeseung turns to face you looking straight into your eyes.. “I mean why were you staring at that guy and not me?” Oh, he was jealous. This wasn’t the first time. He gets jealous easily, it’s bad to the point he almost sent someone to the hospital. “Oh..umm..” You never liked him being jealous. Jealous heeseung scares you the most. Taking his anger out on you by marking you. “Sorry..it’s just that I found it impressive how well he was playing..”
“So you think I’m not good?” “What no, I never said that..he’s just good, but not better than you..” You tried to explain yourself. Hoping you’ll get him to calm down a bit. Heeseung only looked at you before turning to the steering wheel, turning on the car. He starts driving back to his place.
Once you arrive at his place. You get out of the car, meet with Heeseung, opening the door aggressively. You took a step in, him following you after slamming the door with a loud thund. Which made you startled, Quietness filled up the room until heeseung shoved you against the wall kissing you aggressively. Lips meshing together. Tongue kissing to be exact. Heeseung grips your waist harshly before grabbing your wrist leading you into his bedroom. He pushes you onto the bed. “You think I’m good huh..? Bet I’m better at him at fucking..” you can feel yourself getting wet. Heeseung doesn’t waste time, quickly pulling down your pants revealing your soaked through panties. “Such a slut, already wet..” your legs close automatically because of his words. Heeseung smirks at this. “I see you like being called slut? Don’t you slut?” You nodded your head making him snicker, “words.” He said firmly.
You shiver slightly, “yes I like being called a slut..” Heeseung goes back to kissing you. Removing each piece of clothing on your body leaving you bare naked once he pulls away. “Fuck so pretty, such a pretty little slut..” He removes his clothes before making you lay on your back.. You start to feel his fingers graze over your bare pussy making you moan slightly.. “Hmm..what’s that slut? Enjoying this so much?” Heeseung doesn’t let you respond, before shoving a finger inside of you. You try to hold in your moan, keeping quiet. “Awee slut holding in her moans, Don’t..need everyone to hear how much of a slut of you are. My slut..” you do as said and begin moaning softly. Not caring anymore if anyone can hear you. Heeseung begins to move his finger inside of you faster..
“Should I add another finger..” Heeseung says, looking at you, waiting for your answer. “Yes.” Uh oh heeseung didn’t like that. “Can’t say just yes slut need you to beg for my finger. Since one finger can’t please you..” You whimper at his words.. “Please..baby..wanna come..wanna come so so so bad.. just for you..” you hoped that was enough to convince him. Heeseung smirks at you before slowly shoving another finger inside. Now you have 2 fingers inside of you pleasuring you. Your moans got louder and louder. You could feel your high coming before he abruptly stops. You whine..at the missing feeling. Heeseung pulls his fingers out.. licking your wet slick on his fingers moaning at the taste…
“Time to fuck you..so you know who you belong to..” Fuck.. you prepare yourself what’s to come. Heeseung places his tip on your pussy before pushing himself inside your warm pussy. He moans out loud at the feeling of you clenching around him. You try to get used to his size. Heeseung doesn’t give you enough time to get used to him though, he starts thrusting into you at a fast pace. You’re already moaning out loud, vey the neighbors can hear you both. Maybe even the sound of skin slipping against each other. Both of Heeseung's arms beside your head, supporting himself up. Heeseung leans in kissing you. You moan into the kiss. Enjoying the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix and his mouth on yours. You can slightly taste yourself on his tongue. You start tightening around him, feeling your high getting closer. So heeseung quickened his pace. The sound of skin slapping getting louder. You can feel his balls slap against you. And before you knew. You can feel his load enter you..filling you up so good. Heeseung collapses on top of you, breathing hard.
“You did so well..” heeseung wraps his arms around you, cuddling you. You smile at him before kissing his nose.. “Did I hurt you in any way..?” You shook your head. “No I’m fine, don't worry..”
“We gotta shower, especially what just happened and practice today..I’m already sweating more than I was earlier. You giggled at his words before cuddling him longer. Maybe you should make him jealous more often..yeah that sounds like a good idea.
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Author’s note: it’s one am rn but umm speed ran this shir hoped you liked it Im in sorta my flop era THIS CAN NOT VE HAPPNDIG!?&:!
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
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apuckishwit · 1 year
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Making Room
Steve never gets into DnD.
Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).
But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.
And that's okay.
When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.
And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.
Steve never gets into DnD.
But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.
Steve never gets into DnD.
But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.
"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"
"Carl."
"He's a half-orc!"
"Those are the big green guys, right?"
"Yeah!"
"Hmmm. Big Carl."
"Perfect!"
Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.
***
Eddie never gets into sports.
Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.
Particularly Steve.
Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.
But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.
He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.
And that's okay.
He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.
Eddie never gets into sports.
But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.
He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.
Eddie never gets into sports.
But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.
"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"
"For what?"
"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"
"Um, whoever's in red!"
"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"
Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.
Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.
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whoslai · 8 months
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seventy two hours - l. heeseung 📓🧑🏻‍🎓
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• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
↣ lee heeseung x fem!reader (both are 18)
↣ it’s the summer after high school; heeseung has been in love with his childhood friend, y/n. despite his efforts to make her see how he feels, she remains oblivious. with only three days left before they both go off to college, he must find a way to win her heart before it's too late. will he succeed, or will he have to let go of his love and move on?
↣ warnings: MDNI! making out, cunnilingus, fingering, jerking off, voyeurism, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love confessions, creampie, explicit sex, teasing, dirty talk, body marking, & more.
↣ genre: fluff, angst, smut, slice of life au
↣ wc: 4.1k
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
“lee heeseung,” you called, poking your head out of your window to look down at the sweaty boy who just so happened to live next door to you. he’d been bouncing a basketball in his driveway all night and it was driving you nuts!
to your incredulity, heeseung cocked his head to look up at you, smiling from ear to ear as he saw you. “y/n.” he sighed, holding his basketball to his chest. “have you been standing there the whole time?”
“no! unlike you, i’m trying to get some sleep. it’s 2 in the morning and you’ve been bouncing that ball since 7.” you whined, leaning against the window seal as you rubbed your sleepy eyes.
“oh? so you’re keeping track of how long i’ve been out here..?” he smugly remarked, dropping the ball into his yard as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “do i interest you that much, y/n?”
“heeseung.” you glared at him, “please let me sleep.”
he smiled, “you should come out here with me. i can show you how to shoot a 3 pointer.”
shaking your head, you closed your window. you huffed as you laid back in your bed, tiredly sighing as you heard him pick his ball up and bounce it against the pavement again. another day, another night spent trying to drown out heeseung.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
your next few days were spent dorm shopping with your mother; you’d been accepted into northwestern university to study journalism on a full scholarship. you truly were excited to start a new chapter of your life and explore yourself and the environment around you.
you’d be even happier if you didn’t have a little baby whining in your ear every day about the fact that you were moving across the country. of course, living next to heeseung meant you two were very close, almost too close. it got to the point of him being immensely comfortable with complaining about how it was “odd” if you to look forward to moving away from everyone you’ve ever known.
while yes, moving from a small town in virginia to a larger city in illinois would take some time getting used to, but that didn’t mean it would justify you being fearful. what was there to be afraid of? people move all the time, it wasn’t as though you’d be the first person to leave family for college. heeseung was just being dramatic, per usual.
“you really should just stay here, i don’t see why you can’t just go to school online.” heeseung shrugged, holding his knees to his chest as he sat on your bed, watching you take down the polaroids of you and friends from your walk to pack away for your dorm.
you smiled, shaking your head at him. “heeseung, you’re acting like i’m not going to come back on breaks. it’s not my fault you chose to stay here for college.”
“you’re right, i DID choose to stay here. wanna know why?” he asked.
you propped your hand on your hip and raised your eyebrow at him. “i know you want to tell me, so just go ahead and say it.”
“because…” he trailed off, anxiously biting his lip as he began again. “because everything i’ll ever need is here, virginia is my home; our home. why would you leave all this behind when everything you need is right here?”
you shrugged, “i don’t see what’s here in virginia that i can’t find in illinois. my parents plan to travel while i’m gone so there’s not much keeping me here.”
heeseung pouted. “ouch.”
“aw.” you laughed, “you know im going to miss you when i leave. how could i forget you and that stupid basketball you keep me awake with…”
heeseung smiled a bit, but you could tell there was some sadness behind it. “maybe we could play together?”
“hmmm…” you hummed. “we could, but i’d rather do something else. why don’t we do like a sleepover and binge on a bunch of movies? pull an all nighter or something.”
“a sleepover?” heeseung asked, sitting up and licking his lips. “as in…like me sleeping over here or…you sleeping at my house?”
“either. it doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled, grabbing some tape to close the box of pictures and placed it to the side. “but, you and i both know how strict my mom is about you being over. she would make you sleep on the couch downstairs.”
he slowly nodded, “true…”
“so we should probably just go to your place, yeah?” you asked him, glancing back at him. “i’m assuming you want me in the same bed as you, so we’re better off just doing it over at yours.”
he scoffed, “what?! who says i want you to sleep in my bed?”
“me.” you smiled, tossing the box off to the side. “like helloooo, look at me. who wouldn’t want me to sleep in their bed?”
heeseung married his eyes at you. “you are so…”
“i’m kidding~” you laughed, taking a seat at your desk. “i’d only get in your bed anyway.”
“wait really?” heeseung asked you, his ears perking up. “why only mine?”
“because you’re my bestie. now, go clean your room. i’ll be over in a few hours.” you told him, spinning around to organize the papers on your desk.
he laughed a bit before kicking the back of your seat as he made his way out.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
a few hours after heeseung had left, you’d found yourself drying your hair after taking a quick shower. you slipped on some shorts and a tee whilst grabbing your bag full of sleepover essentials.
making your way over to his house, you caught sight of his bedroom light being on and reflecting a shadow; a figure all too similar to his own. squinting your eyes up at him, you began to make sense of what you were seeing.
he stood near the window, head lowered while his arm appeared to repeatedly move in a swift motion….was he jerking off?
your heart skipped a beat when his head fell back and you looked down at the ground, contemplating whether or not you could simply walk in and face him after watching his shadow through his bedroom window.
biting your lip, you slowly turned to walk back to your house, his front door opened.
“y/n!!” his mothers voice rang in your ears from behind. you quickly turned back, being met by his mother waving for you to come. “i saw you standing out here! come on in, heeseung told me you were sleeping over…?”
you nodded, walking over to her. “um yeah! that’s um…that’s the plan.”
she closed the door behind you as you stepped in and slipped your shoes off. “well, that’s cute. i’m happy to see you two spend more and more time together, especially with you leaving in a few days.” she sighed, clasping her hands together. “i’ve always adored your friendship.”
“ahhh..” you smiled, nodding your head. “yeah, just a few more days.”
she frowned, “we’re all going to miss you very much!”
“i’ll come back and visit!” you exclaimed. she smiled, patting your shoulder as she signaled for the stairs.
“heeseung is up in his room. i’m not quite sure what he’s doing but he’s expecting you so just feel free to knock. i’ve got food in the kitchen and his father is down in the basement. if you guys need anything, just let me know. okay?”
“yes ma’am, and thank you!” you nodded at her, hurrying up the stairs.
as you stood in front of his closed bedroom door, you inhaled a deep breath, nervous to step in.
after standing there for a while, you brought your hand up to the door and knocked. “hey, heeseung. it’s me.”
you waited a while, hearing him reply, “kay, one sec…”
you rested your back against the wall opposite of his door, placing your hand over your chest as your heart rate began to increase. you wondered if you truly saw what you thought you saw outside or if you were just reading the situation wrong. you wondered if he was done shooting his hot load onto the nearest surface. you wondered if his cock was still twitching in his hand as he helped himself ride out his high by teasing his tip or even continuing to stroke his shaft.
“hey,” he said as he greeted you. his hair was damp and his shirt hung low off his collar bone, exposing some of his chest.
“took you long enough.” you scoffed, brushing past him as you attempted to play it cool, not wanting him to suspect anything.
he closed the door behind you and you sat on his bed, tossing your bag on the ground as you laid back and took your phone out.
“i didn’t prepare anything.” he said, “i’ve been laying in bed since i left your house.”
you looked at him as he sat beside you, awkwardly bringing his knees to his chest. “are you sure about that?”
“sure about what? laying in bed…?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
you nodded, “surely you haven’t been in bed for the past 5 hours.”
“i mean, for the most part.” he shrugged. “what does it matter?”
“it doesn’t…i was just being nosey.” you said, looking away from him and sighing. “it’s hot in here.”
“it’s like 70 degrees…” he trailed off.
you sat up quickly, facing him. “we should play a game, you down?”
“yeah.” he said, “go for it.”
you smiled, “truth or dare?”
he rolled his eyes and leaned back against his wall. “truth.”
“is it true that you’re going to be a big cry baby and have a tantrum on my last day here?” you teased, pushing him.
“bold of you to assume i’m even going to your send off.” he scoffed.
your smile fell, “wait, you aren’t coming?”
“if i go, i’ll miss you too much while you’re gone.” he pouted.
you smiled again, “awwww…stop flirting with me.”
he shrugged, “truth or dare?”
“dare, of course.” you said. “give me the best you’ve got.”
his eyes glanced to the side, then back at you. “mmm, i dare you to tell me one of your biggest fears.”
you flared your nose. “that’s the lamest dare. that’s all you could come up with? make it fun!”
“i don’t know…um…do a handstand or something.” he shrugged once again.
you titled your head to the side, shifting your hips on his bed. “are you okay?”
“uh..why?” he asked you. it was obvious that something was off with him, anybody who knew heeseung could tell that his body language was different than his normal; he was being awkward and he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. the fact that he wasn’t even making an effort to flirt with you in the grossest ways possible was throwing you off.
not to say you LIKED being flirted with but…come on, you kind of missed it.
“you’re being so weird.” you told him, glancing down at his shirt again.
he sighed. “i’m a bit tired, that’s all.”
you were quiet for a bit. was he tired from cumming a few minutes before? could his orgasm have been so intense that it made him groggy? reserved?
“truth or dare?” you asked him, your eyes fixated on your own. you wanted to know why he picked right before you came over to touch himself. why he’d do it right in front of his window, and most of all, why he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t just making a mess in his room before you came?
“truth.” he said.
“what are you tired from?” you asked him, intensely gazing into his eyes.
he smiled a little, “basketball practice this morning. just the usual.”
“that’s all?” you asked him once again, feeling a bit antsy from the smile that was plastered on his face.
“is there something else you’re thinking i did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
your tongue slid over your lower lip, feeling a wave of heat fall over your head. “i…”
his eyebrow raised. “you..?”
“i saw you.” you admitted, feeling your once assertive demeanor fade into a timid one.
he bit his lip, attempting to hold back his smile from growing wider. as his eyes trailed down, he leaned his head back against the wall. “saw me doing what?” you looked away from him, reaching back to grab your phone but his hand grabbed your arm. “no, say it. don’t start something if you can’t finish it…”
“dude, i didn’t see anything. i don’t know what i’m talking about.” you told him, pulling your arm away from him and crossing your legs, hoping that he didn’t the arousal that was seeping through your gray shorts.
he stood up, walking over to his window and opening the curtains. “saw me standing here earlier, right?”
you ignored him, staring down at your phone and scrolled through your instagram. before you realized it, heeseung was standing in front of you. he slid his index finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “saw me hand fucking myself, yeah?”
you slowly nodded, entranced at his intense eye contact.
“ah ah ah,” he tsked in a disapproving manner. “use your words, you’re a big girl.”
“yes..” you whispered, feeling small underneath his gaze.
“there you go,” he cooed. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“no. i just…why did you do that…right in front of your window? right before i came over?” you asked him.
“why do you think?” he asked, sighing. “isn’t it obvious?”
“no?” you replied, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
he dropped his hand to his side. “y/n, i like you. i’ve liked you since you moved next door to me.” he admitted, breaking eye contact to look down at your phone that still rested in your hand. “i couldn’t go a whole night stuck in my room with you with a straight face. it would’ve been harder than you think.”
“you like me?” you asked him, shocked.
“you’re so oblivious, i swear..” he scoffed, walking away from you and closed his curtains. “anyway, it’s not like it matters now anyway. you’re leaving in a few days.”
you scooted forwards a bit, “w-why would you just now tell me? i had no idea, heeseung. you couldn’t have told me like…freaking years ago?!”
“i told you because i wouldn’t have to face you when you rejected me. duh.” he weakly laughed, turning away from you and shuffling through some of his clothing.
you held onto the sheets underneath you, feeling completely at a loss at his words.
“i wouldn’t reject you, heeseung.” you told him.
“yeah you would, no need to lie about it.” he shrugged. “i’ve already coke to terms with it, it’s over with.”
tears began to pool in your eyes. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend, neighbor, childhood crush was admitting his feelings to you 72 hours before you moved across the country. “heeseung, i…”
“you don’t have to let me down lightly, y/n. it’s cool, don’t worry.” he sighed, sitting down back beside you as he rubbed his arms. “are you hungry? there’s some f-“
you cut him off with a kiss, holding his face against your own. he was stiff at first, shocked. but soon, he kissed you back and pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed over your curves, from your waist down to your ass.
but then, he pulled away and held your wrists. “y/n, why…why are you doing this?
tears fell from your eyes as you looked ahead at him, feeling your heart sadden at him; heeseung was so perfect. he had the cutest pair of large brown eyes along with a beautiful smile and a soothing voice. how could you have been so blind before? he was all you could ask for in a guy. he never made you feel uncomfortable, he was sweet, and he went above and beyond when doing things for you. how could you leave him in 3 days?
“because i like you too, heeseung.” you told him. “please don’t push me away. please.”
he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the same sadness you’d felt. he pressed his lips back to your own, holding your chest against his as he gently mended his lips with yours.
he let go of your wrists, using his hand to lay you flat on your back and lay atop of you. your hands caressed his cheeks, melting into the feeling of him. as the kiss deepened, you felt his hands moving up from your waist to your breasts, massaging your erect areola through your shirt. you moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of arousal wash over you. heeseung pulled away, looking into your eyes.
“do you want this?” he asked, his eyes searching for any doubt or hesitation in your expression.
you nodded, “so bad.”
with that, he leaned back down to kiss you again, this time with more passion and intensity. you felt his hands moving down to your shorts, slipping them off along with your panties. he broke the kiss to look at you, taking in your naked form beneath him.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. “so beautiful, so pretty.”
you whined his name, feeling his lips and tongue working their way down your body. heeseung spent a long time exploring every inch of your skin, eliciting moans and gasps from you with every touch.
he left wet kisses down your stomach down to your thighs, laying between your legs and propping them onto his shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered, “has anyone ever…done this to you before?”
you shook your head, “no, heeseung. no one has.”
he licked his lips, sucking on your dripping outer labia, sticking his tongue inside to flick his wet muscle against your achining clit.
“oh!” you squealed, arching your back at the surge of pleasure that rolled through your pelvis. “heeseung, oh my..”
he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, soon slipping in a finger to add to your pleasure. you gripped onto the sheets underneath you as you felt his rough fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls, feeling a knot build up in your stomach.
“oh shit, heeseung….” you cried, throwing your head back as he held onto your thighs, forcing you down harder against his mouth. “i think i’m gonna…i think i’m gonna..”
he lifted his head up, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he kissed your thighs. “cum for me, baby.”
you squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm ripped through your body, making your hips sputter. essense dripped out of your tender pussy as you moaned, closing your thighs over his hand.
he kept rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit, “heeseung, stop. please, please, i can’t. it hurts…please…”
he crawled back up to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair. “we can stop now, if you want.”
you held his face, caressing his cheek. “no, i..i want to go all the way.”
“have you had sex before?” he asked.
you shook your head, “i’ve only…done other stuff. never went all the way.”
he kissed you once before sitting up. “before we do this, i just want you to know that i’ve liked you for…a very, very long time. even on the days where we wouldn’t talk, all i thought about was you. i couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else throughout highschool when i would go home and see you through your window, looking as pretty as ever. my heart has always belonged to you, and i hope that even when you go off work college, you always remember that i’ll always hold tight onto the thought of you, keeping you close to my heart. forever and always.”
you felt tears welling up in your eyes at his words, knowing how much courage it must have taken for him to say them. you took his hand, squeezing it tightly.
“i will always remember, heeseung,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “and i will always hold onto the memories we’ve made together.”
he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips conveying all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. you felt his hands moving down to pull his pants down and he tightly held your hand within his, signaling that he was going to begin.
you felt the his cock poke against your pussy, making you gasp when you felt how hot and wet his tip was.
“squeeze my hand if it hurts and i’ll stop right away. sound good, pretty girl?” he asked, looking into your eyes.
“okay, i’m ready…” you told him, glancing down at his length prodding against your entrance. slowly but surely, you felt him slowly begin to push himself into your tight hole, stirring when you subconsciously clenched at the stretch. “y/n,” he huffed half laughed, “don’t squeeze like that. you’re gonna make me cum.”
you smiled a bit, “sorry..”
he kissed you again, glancing down and applying pressure to your tummy. “just relax, let me do the work.”
you complied, biting your lip as he bottomed out inside of you, not moving. you felt stuffed, one wrong move and he would impale your cervix. but something about the whole ordeal was turning you on so much, you could cum again without him even moving.
“feel okay?” he asked.
you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him down to kiss you. you rolled your hips against his own, itching for some type of stimulation.
he thrusted his hips into your own, starting at a slow pace as he reached down to being your leg over his back.
you moaned with pleasure, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over you as he brought you closer to another orgasm. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as you met his thrusts with your own.
heeseung picked up the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned into his mouth, your fingers scratching at his back as you held on for dear life.
heeseung pulled back, breaking the kiss to look down. "shit, your pussy is squeezing me," he moaned. “i’m gonna cum…”
you could feel his cock twitching inside you, signaling his impending release. the mere thought of him coming inside you sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.
you cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm. heeseung finally slowed down, his movements becoming more gentle as he rode out his own release.
with a final thrust, you felt his hot load shoot deep inside of your walls, panting the pink walls a tinge of white.
heeseung propped himself up, pulling his sensitive cock out of you and taking a deep breath.
he slipped his boxers back on and you claimed your breathing as you heard him walk away, coming back with a damp towel. you felt him wipe down your most sensitive areas and finish off with your face.
he tossed the towel to the side and helped you slip your panties back on along with your top. without a second thought, you held onto him, cuddling into the warmth of his exposed chest.
heeseung cuddled you back, laying beside you as he pulled his covers over the both of you.
“you did so well, y/n.” he whispered, planting a soft kiss against your nose. “was it okay?”
“more than okay…” you told him, closing your eyes and yawning. “thank you..for everything. for confessing to me and for making me cum twice in one night.”
he awkwardly laughed, shifting against you. “yeah…sure. are you sleepy?”
you order, “super sleepy.”
“sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”
and with that, you fell asleep. you weren’t sure what the future held for you and heeseungs relationship. all you knew was that you loved him for him. he was your friend, your first time, and now your first love. only time would tell for your relationship.
• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
authors note: here’s another lil fic! got bored and wanted to do a cute lil heeseung story, hope u liked it! 😊
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tacklebaitcalhoun · 9 months
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With this  bedding system, you can beat the bookie stop losing your money. 
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hoshigray · 3 months
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 | satoru gōjo
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo isn’t one to mess with other people’s relationships, especially yours, the widow of his best friend, Geto. And now, when celebrating the anniversary of your late husband’s death, you’re most definitely off limits…when alcohol isn’t involved.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x widow fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/makeout sessions - thigh riding - grinding/dry-humping - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - missionary + spooning positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pet names (angel, baby, babe, cutie, princess) - overstimulation - creampies - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get the fuck up) - the reader is the widow of Suguru Geto + mother of Nanako and Mimiko - implied usage of alcohol - Gojo and the reader are pretty terrible together, to be real - expressions of guilt/shame - mention of sweat and tears - bittersweet ending - will fully proofread l8r.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: would y'all believe me that this idea came to me literally last night? wrote it all in 9 hrs total, lmao. enjoyyyy, and tysm for 4.8k !!?? love every single one of yas!!
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“—Pffthahaha, why did you drink so much? I thought you hated alcohol!”
“I do!! But that guy at the bar kept buying you drinks even though you told him not to—Hic, Ahh fuck…”
“Oh God, Gojo, you better not hurl on my white carpet! Drink the water and eat your slice of bread!”
You and Gojo are in the warmth of your home, lying on the floor of your living room and laughing the night away. The two of you just arrived from a fun evening with old high school and college buddies, and, from the looks of it, you two seemed to have a ball hanging with the old company. Poor Gojo got the short end of the stick, being the lightest of lightweights of the group, and is now fighting a massive headache and being tipsy at the same time. Luckily, being the kindest friend, you took him to your home and gave him his favorite hangover food: slices of sweet bread! 
“I know, that dude just wouldn’t quit,” you take a sip of your glass of water to ease the tipiness. You giggle while reminiscing about the events that happened tonight. “Nanami was about to stop him, but you went ahead and just took the shots given to me.”
“Well, excuuuuse me! For being your great buddy on both ends,” he points at you with a piece of bread between his fingers, heavy laughter spewing from your stomach. “I helped make sure his money didn’t go to waste buying shots for the prettiest person at the bartop, AND help you not get any drunker than you are now.” 
You say in snickers, “I didn’t know you were the prettiest person in that pud.”
“Oh, shut up.” He couldn’t tell if the alcohol was making his cheeks rosier or if it was the sound of your laughter filling his eardrums. 
Gojo has known you since sophomore year of college. You were in the same dormitory tower with him and his best friends, Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri (she roomed with you the following year, along with Utahime and Mei Mei). The four of you didn’t quite know each other until Geto had a class with you, and the two of you were assigned a presentation. From there, you were invited to his dorm and met his roommates: Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara. Then, you were requested to come over and play video games with the boys or eat with them whenever the group went to the dining hall. And the next thing you knew, you upgraded from acquaintance to friend in a matter of weeks, fitting right in with the odd bunch.
The group cherished you and your presence — especially Satoru Gojo. The white-haired fellow would treat you as if you were his closest friend. He’d find you in your classes through the windows and make faces that you’d try to hold your smile at, knock on your door to come to hang out with you whenever he wanted to see you or if he and Geto had a fallout, point to you whenever he’d make a three-pointer during the basketball games, or come from behind you to hug without you knowing because he loved how you’d squeak from surprise and try to squirm out of his hold. 
It wasn’t long before he realized he had a crush on you until the second semester of the sophomore year when you considered transferring schools, which everyone was sad about but respected your decision. However, Gojo was more upset about it than the others. He didn’t like that he made a friend, and you two were returning to being strangers in different worlds. Sure, there was calling you and texting, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to see you smile, see you laugh, see you around with him. And the realization didn’t hit him until the first week of junior year when you called him one night and said that you decided to stay. He knew then and there that he cherished you more than the others, becoming a treasure he wanted to protect from harm. 
However, he wasn’t the only one who adored you as much — if not more. In the summer of his junior year, Geto told his best friend he had feelings for you. And Gojo’s world was crushed for five seconds as his dark-haired friend confided in him. But when he responded, he quickly swallowed his pride and said, “That’s great, Suguru! I’m sure they’ll like you back.” And with that, you did, accepting his confession and spending your final year as a couple. And it didn’t stop there; many years later, Geto would go down on one knee for you, move in, and have two beautiful daughters with you. 
Gojo bore witness to all of this, seeing his two friends become the happiest they could be with each other. It felt a bit painful — okay, that was sugarcoating it; it was excruciating, enduring hiding his feelings for so long. However, if it meant seeing the two of you happy, who was he to rain on your parade? So, instead, he was your biggest cheerleader, wishing you all the best for the two of you and your happy life. And seeing as though he’s now in your home, drunk, and sharing laughs with you, it was the best move he could ever make. 
You took a nice big stretch against the couch behind you, yawning, “Thank you for taking me out. I really needed that. Do you know how lonely it is having two teenage girls who wanna hang with their friends more than their own mother? I was about to buy myself a crochet kit to keep me busy.”
He laughs at your comment about your daughters, Nanako and Mimiko, who’re now dead asleep upstairs in their room. Gojo lies down on the carpet, “No problem~. Nanami mentioned a nice restaurant that opened up recently, and I figured we could all use a night out.”
“You thought right,” you agreed, swaying from side to side, something you always do when you’re tipsy. Gojo thought it was cute. “And with, you know…the anniversary and everything, it took my mind off it…Thanks for coming with me to the grave today. The girls really appreciated it.”
He hums, taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Ah yes, the anniversary. Today was significant for the two adults in this living room, the teenagers sleeping soundly, and the friends you spent with tonight. It was the anniversary of Suguru Geto’s death. A dear friend and husband died in a car accident, trying to save a child from an upcoming car that wasn’t stopping at a crosswalk. The news came so suddenly to everyone, Gojo being the first to hear about it. He remembered the day all too well two years ago, knocking on your door to which you welcomed him with a smile like always. But you knew something was wrong; he could tell that his lack of response made your beaming light dwindle by the second. And when he told you the tragic news, the light completely disappeared, substituted with tears and gut-wrenching screams. 
The funeral was depressing, of course. Many tears were shed, many kind words were said, and many rose petals covered the coffin when dropped and buried with the earth. Gojo was the only one who noticed you were the last to leave Geto’s side, trembling hands with nothing to do or hold on to. He was hesitant, but the tall man walked behind you and pulled you into an embrace. And like a flipped switch, you cried into his arms, finding solace through grief with the person closest to you. 
That wasn’t the least time you cried with him, but those are memories meant for the two of you to share. There’s no need to delve too deep into another heart-rending episode, not after such a fun evening with everyone.  
“You know,” Gojo leaves his imagination to turn to you from the carpet, seeing you twiddling with the rim of the glass. “I think we would’ve loved tonight. I remembered before the accident, he texted me saying he would kill to have a beer with Nanami and Haibara again.” 
The tall adult scratches his brow with a chuckle, “Yeah, I’m he’d love tonight…If anything, he’d be astonished by how many beer mugs Haibara can take compared to freshman year. The kid couldn’t even handle three glasses.” 
“I know, and—pfft. Poor Ichiji and Mei Mei, having to deal with a drunk Utahime now after her drunk ass almost pounced on Shoko to kiss her. You think she’ll remember any of that?”
“Pssh, no, but you can bet your ass I’m making fun of her about it first thing in the morning.” The manchild barks a laugh when you kick his shoulder, making sure not to make a mess with his bread and water. 
“You’re one to talk, Satoru,” the named man giggled harder; he loved when you used his name as you scolded him. “For someone who puked a waterfall after one shot from his junior basketball team party, I don’t know where you got the balls to take the shots that random dude was buying for me.”
“What can I say; I’m a ballsy guy.”
You suck your teeth, taking another sip of your water. “You’re so annoying…Although, I know you did it to look out for me. I’d probably be wasted right now if I had those many shots. So, thanks again.” 
Gojo lifts his sunglasses to wink. “Anything for you~” The sing-song tune of his voice makes you your eyes, but you continue talking.
“And thanks for all the times you’ve been available to help me. I know you and everyone else are busy, so I always feel bad when I ask—“
“Don’t be. I’ll always be here if you need me because I care about you.”
“Always?”
He looks in your direction to see that your eyes are fixated on his. Gorgeous eyes that captured his entire being the first moment he met you and now make him weak whenever they land on him. Darling eyes that were the prettiest things he’d ever seen, and that’s saying something because he’d been told countless times that his pale blue orbs were the most beautiful in the world. Alluring eyes that await his answer with patience. And so he says, “Always.”
You give him a soft smile, “Okay…I care about you, too.”
The two of you keep staring until you realize you have been gazing at Gojo for too long and avert your gaze downward. Gojo takes the hint and mentally slaps himself for it. Fuck, why did I do that? He stands up, groans, and covers his face in shame for that slip-up. You don’t know that he has a lifelong crush on you; everyone else knows. They’ve always known. The Gojo Satoru fell in love with the lover of his best friend. Correction: his dead best friend. 
Anyone would see the problem in this situation. A best friend’s lover that you’re also close with? Don’t even think about it, Gojo, he curses himself. He knows all too damn well that you’re out of his field. You were the forbidden fruit that he couldn’t indulge with anymore. It was bad enough that you looked good tonight, wearing that cute halter top with long sleeves and those leggings that shaped your lower half beautifully so that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night. And he wasn’t the only one like that fucking old bastard at the pub buying you drinks. It made him sick, honestly.
“Ya know, Satoru,” he hears a glass hitting the wooden floor; you probably put your water down. He couldn’t see because his face was still covered, but his ears listened to your voice inching closer to him. “Remember that last home game we had at the inner arena of sophomore year?” 
You remembered that? “Yeah, I remember.”
“And when you missed the winning shot, making the game stuck in a tie?”
“…Yeah.”
“Well, I, uhh…” he heard the carpet moving around — you were moving around. “I went to Hime and Koko about it because you looked out of it, and I was worried.” Hime and Koko: those were the nicknames you referred Utahime and Shoko. “…Wanna know what she told me?”
Finally, the man removes his hands to look. And he sees you on your hands and knees, your eyes catching him instantly. Thank God that his sunglasses were on because it would be pretty bad if you found his orbs wide at you. He could faintly smell the perfume coming from you. It was intoxicating and drove him crazy. He can only hope you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up on his cheeks, thinking it was just the booze. “Wh…What did she say?”
“She said,” You sit on your knees, using your hands to take off Gojo’s glasses, and his breath hitches when you do so, putting them on the side. “You were upset that night because I said I was thinking of transferring.” You bring a finger to swipe his white bangs to the side and scoff. “Hehe, now, I can guess why you took my drinks.”
He gulps, yet it hurts to swallow. “Y/n..I—“
“Did you like me back then, Satoru?”
“…I’ve always liked you, Y/n. We’re friends—“
You shook your head. “No, no.” Come on, now. This wasn’t college anymore; you’re both adults now. You weren’t no fool. “Satoru, did you like me? More than a friend?” 
Oh, fuck. He didn’t expect this to happen. Not in a million years. Gojo was never one to be nervous about things. But you? You were his exception, his one weakness. And it sucks even more that you’re aware of this fragility. He’s caught up now. He can’t lie, not to you, of all people. 
“…Yes.” 
He noticed your brow twitch, fucking hell. “…Do…Do you like me now?” 
Fuck, Y/n, why would you ask that? He knows you deserve the truth, but it was painful to give it. 
“..….I’ve always liked you, Y/n.”
And there it was: the truth, finally out for your judgment. Gojo’s face felt so hot it was unbearable. He needed something to happen, anything, please! His dignity and shame depended on it. It was too much to bear. The pounding in his head was a pain that never had happened to him in this extreme degree, and it hurt so damn bad. God, end me already. I don’t care anymore. 
But he did care because why else would he still be looking at your face? He wanted to know what you’d do with that knowledge you received from him. Would you discard him? Never speak with him? He needed to know. Whatever happens to him is undisputedly deserved for being the dumbass who confesses to the spouse of his late best friend. 
And then, like an answer to a prayer, something does happen. Gojo felt the coldness of your palm when you put your hand on his cheek, your forefinger brushing the lobe of his ear, and the skin temperature contrasting against each other until there’s shared heat. 
Your eyes were locked in with his, honed with soft sternness, and your face inched forward hesitantly. Holy shit, he knew what you were about to do. It was a bad idea all around. If he really respected you as a friend – for both you AND Geto – he would intervene right now. He’d put his arms up and refrain from doing what you were about to do, no matter how much the inner, darker part of his soul wanted it. 
However, we wouldn’t be telling this story if nothing ever happened, if Gojo didn’t let you put your soft lips on his plump ones, the two meshing together to signal the first union between you two. 
The kiss was slow, filled with doubt at the start, as if you were hoping he’d push you away. But then you kissed him again after the first, and then the second. Three kisses was all it took to solidify Gojo’s next moves, daring to put a hand at the back of your neck. Which you allowed, you moaned at it. It ignited him, putting his other hand on your waist to suggest intimacy. And when you crawl further in his direction, there’s no going back.
You move to sit on his thigh that he propped up, cupping his face to keep him in your direction, grinding your lower half onto his jeans to create friction. Gojo follows your lead, moving his hands down to your ass, the flesh of it massaged by his slender yet firm fingers. 
Whimpers kept egging him on, wanting to touch you more. The kiss becomes steamier, exchanging and swirling each other’s tongues, and he playfully sucks on it to hear you whine for him. “Ahhnn, don’t tease me, ‘toru…” Oh, don’t say that. Because now that’s precisely what he wants to do, slamming his lips into yours with a moan.
Your arms come around his neck, your legs grinding down on his thigh involuntarily to ease the aching commotion that’s brewing inside between your legs. His hands come to your waist, urging you to hump him more like this. The feeling of you on his leg felt so gratifying, arousing him to move his hips on their own.
This was so bad. No, it was tremendously bad. What was he thinking? Touching you and kissing you like this as if he were your lover — your Suguru Geto — and on the anniversary of your late husband’s passing, too. Did he finally lose his mind?! Even if it was the alcohol that was deranging his thought process right now, he still was conscious enough not to bring this predicament to a stop. Oh, this was beyond terrible.
It was just as terrible as you pulling your face off of him to respire, panting heavily, and wiping the tiny bit of saliva that stuck to your lip. Gojo knew he shouldn’t think like this, but he wanted to kiss you again, to pull you in once more, and have you mewing for him. You smelt, tasted, and felt so good for him. It would be a crime to leave you alone like this now.
Icy blue eyes examine your expression, taking in every feature of your beautiful face that he finally has on top of him like this. You look down at him with your hands returning to cup his hot cheeks. He always knew you were an angel, and now he has proof.
“You care about me, right?” You ask him with your half-lidded eyes that glowed softly under the warm ceiling lights. Gojo nods slowly, and you carry on. “Stay with me tonight, please…”
It was hard to swallow when you requested that. The night was already ruined — you were ruined — by him. There’s no way he could make this even worse. Nevertheless, the thought of saying no to you was contradicting his actions as he pulled you in for an embrace, kissing you down your neck and sucking your collarbone.
And damn him for feeling any excitement and joy from this…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo felt like the worst. 
No, correction: he is the worst. 
Ignoring all these years of his inner, bottled-up feelings have finally erupted and burst into shards that pierce his skin as punishment. All those side glances, all those handholds, and all the cheering from the sidelines; every single memory that’s been stacked within this glass now feels like needles to the heart. Needles to his entire being. 
He felt like shit. There’s nothing about that sentence that feels like an understatement; he was an utter shit. He knew it and felt really bad about it.
…And yet, having you under his bow like this, saying his name in soft whines and your fingernails scraping on his pearly, sweaty skin only pushed him into feeling terrible even more. 
Gojo was now in your room, a place he only imagined to be inside his dreams and personal thoughts, away from the judgment of Geto and others. This room was never for him to step in — it was your room. The only people who could be in this space were your late husband and his children, no one after. So, being here, lying in your bed with his clothes on the cold bedroom floor, was like a shank to the gut.
Plus, it didn’t help that the girls’ room was across from the room he was in; if worse could come to worst, they could walk in and see that their mother was nude and a disheveled mess under the presence of another man. It would sicken them, having them defy anything that they hold to their heart. They’d deny Gojo’s existence for such an act; they’d reject you for indulging along with him. He wouldn’t forgive himself. He doesn’t forgive himself now…
And worst of all, the thing that was hard to accept in the first place was you. You, who allowed him to even place a finger on you after letting him confess to you; you, who wrapped your arms around his neck when he put his plump lips on yours, the faint taste of alcohol being a reminder of the events they partook prior and has led to this; you, who looked at him with such gorgeous eyes full that struck his heart, eyes full of subtle wanton and need that he couldn’t ignore. He’d be the biggest fool if he ever did — hence the man claiming your lips with hesitant reluctance and having you to himself. Finally. After all these years.
Now, the snow-haired man is on your bed, mind still a bit tipsy but aware of what he’s doing. How could he not be? What he’s doing now is what he’s always longed for — his deepest, darkest secret.
Pistoning his cock to and fro into your wet cunt was a sight worth keeping in his mind forever. Its warmth, the tightness of your walls around him, the tip of his dick poking your sensitive spots and evoking the prettiest, cutest, and most vulgar noises he never, in his years of living, would think he’d hear leave your mouth. Good, he could die tomorrow for this crime – he should be – and he wouldn’t mind. Because this was such a treasure to his eyes, his death would be worth it if it meant having you like this. It was a terrible thing to think of, no question. And he’ll criticize himself later for not caring.
“Ohhooo, ahahhh, Satoru,” His sky-blue eyes took you in, your eyebrows furrowed with eyes sewn shut, your hands gripping the satin sheets of your bed, and your body recoiling with every thrust the Gojo threw your way. The image of your breasts bouncing with every rut was such a beautiful thing to see, Gojo bringing a hand to grope one mound while taking the other to his mouth. The tweeze of your nipple and the light grazes of his teeth as he sucks your bud makes you wail even more. “Oooohh, ‘toru, don’t suck so hard…Nnmaahh!!”
He releases your nipple from his lips, giving it tantalizing licks while hammering his length into your slit, and your shrieks were forbidden music to his ears. His pelvis coming at you hard and bumping into your clitoris was too much for you, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “Ohhh fuck, oh Jesussss, Satoruu, mmmph!! I’m gonna cum, I’m about to cummm,” you’d tell him with pleading, watery eyes. 
“Hnngh! Shit, shit, let it out, baby,” Now, who the hell gave him the right to call you that? He was treading in deep waters he wasn’t supposed to swim in, calling you pet names as if he were your husband. Who does he think he is? Gojo doesn’t know anymore. “Let it go, cum on this dick…Aishhh, fuckingshit…” He’d take your breast back into his mouth, his tongue giving the nub an onslaught of teasing bites and aiding licks. Meanwhile, his free hand would snake down your abdomen and thighs, finding your unattended clit and giving it the attention it deserves, using his fore and middle finger to apply circular motions on the delicate bud. And your orgasm comes crashing down when he gives your clit a pinch, the walls of your chasm contracting around his cock with an ecstatic howl from your puffy lips. 
Gojo watches it all play out – you in your climax – for the second time tonight. He feels it in your nails scraping the flesh of his back, your vagina clamping onto him until your high comes to pass, the arch of your back bringing you closer to him and exchanging heat. Your elated expression was frame-worthy, something he’d want to look at until the end of the Earth. And yet, witnessing it wasn’t a privilege given to him.
The trembles of your legs simmer down, and your whimpers go hushed as your back returns to the dampness of your bedsheets, releasing your fingers from the flesh of Gojo as your figure takes in oxygen to even your breathing. 
The man towers over you, wiping cold, stray tears that trickle down your warm cheek. “That felt good, angle?” Again, calling you names he would never dare call half an hour ago. And yet you don’t ridicule him for it, nodding to him with a pleasant hum. Gojo kisses your lips, along with another and another. He knew he had no right to have your lips on his like this – had none whatsoever. But you tasted so good, felt so good. You were addictive; he knew this all too well. And here he is, a fool throwing himself into the fire.
He lets go of your bottom lip with a tug, maneuvering himself onto his side to spoon you, lifting your leg to make sure his hips have a clear way through as he inserts his length back inside you. He ruts into your wetness again, and the sensation sends a sharp tingle up your spine. You cry out, “Ahahhnn!! Sa–toru! D-Don’t! I’m still sensitive—Mmmm!! There…” 
“Shhhh, I got you, princess. Let me take care of you, okay?” Gojo coos to your ear, making you purr and arch towards him.
And then his hips go back to pushing and pulling, his dick thrusting in and out of your creamy cunt. You breathe in hushed pants, letting the rhythm of his ruts churn your insides. You say his name in a beautiful whine, having him kiss under your chin in response. 
Plunges to your vagina feel so good for both of you, finding comfort in each other’s warmth in this intimate position — a position that is meant for lovers. Something that Gojo knows that you two aren’t. Yet here he is, stuffing you with his shaft until your southern lips meet his balls as if he was your mate for life.
He says your name to your ear, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder, the perfume you wear making him dizzy. And when his cock grinds against the wall of your vagina and hits your precious spot, your eyes shoot wide, and your scream comes out in broken sobs. “—Ahhh!! Haahh!! Satoru, Satoru—Oh, God, ohmygoood!!”
“—Gahhh!! Hahhh, heh, you okay?” He smiles at your reaction, his free hand coming from behind you to capture a breast. “That’s a cute face of yours, angel. Wanna see more of it…” 
And he makes sure of it by bucking into your chasm with haste, going at an irregular speed, and more massages to your walls have you sobbing in pleasure. The stimulation overwhelms you and your worked-up nerves so wickedly that you grab tufts of his frosty hair. He presses his forehead to yours, sharing exchanges of groans and moans in the limited space you two have to breathe. 
Gojo is aware of this entire situation, aware that this charade will change absolutely everything. His relationship with you can never go back to what it was before. College friends, trusting buddies, asking for advice, sharing jokes and laughs, being shoulders to cry on — all of that, and more, changed the moment the man first took your lips in the living room. It’s a ginormous price he’s forced to pay for one night of passion and comfort, to be in your loving arms like he’s dreamed of. 
He could never look at himself the same again, and he wouldn’t blame you if you were to do the same. Shut him off, ignore him, having no meaning in your world anymore outside of a betrayer and an unforsaken friend…However, if this is what his life will be like when he wakes up, he might as well see this night through. Let him have you through it all before the world tears him apart for it.
“Hooohh!! Ohhh!! Noo, aahhnnn,” your keens go higher and higher, twitching with every jab to your inner walls and a tweak to your nipple between his finger and thumb. “It’s coming, it’s coming again, Satoruuu—“ 
“—Hahhgg!! Ahhh, shit, shit, shit…cum with me, baby,” he has his hips go at a relentless pace, pounding harder to your slit, prompting more strangled gasps to fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against each other. 
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come together, Gojo taking your lips in to drink your moans as his member spills his load into your fluttering folds, taking sharp breaths to stabilize your heaving, sweaty bodies that sink into the sheets. Jerking figures cuddled up together as you two experience your own set of aftershocks until the waves of orgasm wash out and leave you air to calm down. 
Although, even with the climaxes gone, you two continue to kiss each other. Your hand nestled in his hair at the back of his neck, bringing your other hand to take his from your chest. Your fingers intertwine with his, grasping and uniting them like lovers — like soulmates. Again, something that Gojo is not. And probably will never be to you. But tonight, he is yours, and you were his.
Your plump lips withdraw from his with the removal of his member, him leaving a trail of kisses from your lips down to your shoulder. “Thank you, Satoru,” you sounded tired, blinking at the ceiling of your bedroom. “Thank you…”
He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. He’s done enough damage now, hiding his face with the warmth of your neck from reality. He doesn’t want to think about it. So he closes his eyes, distracting his gnawing guilt with images of you flashing behind his fatigued eyelids. Your smile, your laugh, just you. That’s all he wants to think about in this moment…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Gojo woke up but did not move. 
He was awakened by birds of the early morning when everyone else would be sound asleep.  But that’s not what he deserved — he doesn’t get to have this pleasure this morning – or any morning – from now on. 
Because what kind of man who wakes up to the bosom of his best friend’s widow thinks he deserves to sleep soundly ever again?
Gojo knew the guilt would be the first thing that’d hit him when he woke up. He was hoping for something different — maybe Nanako and Mimiko walking up to their mother’s room and slapping the man who stained their father’s bed with the seed of another man. But no. Instead, he was awake for three more hours. And what better punishment endowed to him than to use those three hours to contemplate what he’s done?
Three hours of looking at the sunrise from your bedroom window. The gradual transition of the darkness turning into the light, unsheathing the pitch black curtains of the night and welcoming the beginning of a new day. But Gojo preferred the night; it protected him with the vision of his shame. Now, with the morning sun coming out into the sky, he felt naked – exposed to his sin for the eyes of many. 
Three hours of silence. Nothing but silence. The only noise that tormented yet blessed his eardrums was the light snore from you, the rise and fall of your chest coming and going. He could’ve counted your breaths but didn’t. It was the only “good” thing happening around him. Being between your legs and listening to you sleep was something out of a dream — a dream he never thought would happen. And yet here it is and in the most horrific way possible. He took advantage of you; that was the lowest of the low, crossing a line never meant to be crossed. So, for that, he reveled in the silence. It was the most merciful thing that happened since he opened his eyes.
Three hours of being in your embrace. Your arms wrapped around him, making sure he knows what he did. It’s not what you meant to do, maybe wanting to keep him warm by being close to you. But for him, it was another invisible lashing. The hand on his shoulder felt heavy, as if he could morph into your body at any moment. The hand on his head gave faux consolation, the air from your exhale lightly pushing it down. It all felt so wrong, the twinge in his stomach becoming more and more distorted with every passing hour. It was so foul, being intimate with the partner of his dead best friend. Unbelievable…..but the false comfort had him grounded from shutting down.
Three hours of what happened last night replayed in his head nonstop. It was his own form of punishment. Every recollection of you under him, crying for him, holding onto him, and being vulnerable with him was one arrow after another. 
Three hours of this all occurred before him until you woke up. He knew you woke up when the sudden halt of your breath stilled your figure, and it made his heart drop to his feet. You took long, slow breaths as if you were scared to move. You were scared. You had every right to be. And Gojo didn’t say or do anything until you spoke after an entire ten minutes moved by.
“Satoru?” You said it in a whisper, afraid that someone else would hear it leave your mouth, like a slur to this bedroom. 
He doesn’t reply with words. He hums instead. 
“…Good morning…” It was the first time ever he heard you say such a careful good morning. It broke his heart hearing you be so afraid to handle this situation. 
“…Morning…” Because there was nothing good about it. You were doing what you always do: looking out for him because, no matter what, you were his friend. And like any friend, you knew you were in the wrong, too. So, it was better to savor this moment — this — together than have Gojo take the whole burden.
Despite the good intentions, it only fueled his sorrow. Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Any kindness spent on him right now would be wasted. What was warranted, however, was what was on the nightstand in front of him.
There stood a picture frame, displaying you smiling ever so happily in the embrace of another – and that would be your late husband, Gojo’s best friend, Suguru Geto, the rightful man to make you smile and hold you so dearly. 
Geto was staring into the camera as it was taken — probably the one who took it himself. What was then a wonderful memory for you to reminisce served as a silent lesson for Gojo. Another chain of guilt to be added to his shoulders, and it was the heaviest of them all. The purple of his eyes branded Gojo as if he was damning the snow-haired man for tarnishing his spouse and home. Like he was in heaven, making sure that his “friend” knew that he was doing his part in requesting a special seat in hell for him. 
And honestly, that was the only thing in that entire morning that felt right to Satoru Gojo.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by cowbow + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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loveronlineee · 2 years
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Eddie Munson Masterlist
🌊 - Reader favourites
🧸 - My favourites
Thoughts and feelings on volume 2
Sibling! Readers
Just Checking (Henderson! Reader)
Off Limits (Henderson! Reader)
Can You Keep a Secret? (Wheeler! Reader)
Us Weirdos (Byers! Reader)
Basketballs and Bat Tattoos (Sinclair! Reader)
Untouchable (Sinclair! Reader)
Cat People (Mayfield! Reader)
Even Wallflowers need Sunshine 🧸 (Buckley! Reader)
My Dealer’s Sister (Lipton! Reader)
Established Relationship
Unlikely couple (Cheerleader! Reader)
Nervous
You’re in Trouble 
Oh, Worm?
Are You Mad at Me? 
Easy like Sunday Morning
Unexpected 
Nightowl
My Girl 🌊
Jealousy Jealousy~
Friends to Lovers
I’m Okay 
First
Eddie my Love
Pool Party (18+)
Acquaintances to Lovers
Different (Cheerleader! Reader)
Locker Room (Cheerleader! Reader)
Being a Freak 101 (Cheerleader! Reader)
Odd One Out (Cheerleader! Reader)
I.O.U (Cheerleader! Reader)
Pushing It (Cheerleader! Reader)
You Intrigue Me. (Cheerleader! Reader) 
Glasses
Horror Movies
The Freak and the Freakette 
Jammin’
One Scoop for Two 🌊
Doodles and Dates 🌊
Band Shirts
The Little Things
On Wheels
Coffee, Comics and Conversation 🧸
I Don’t Like the Pool Boy. (Lifeguard! Reader) 
Take a Chance on me (non-binary! Reader)
A Witch and a Cult Leader walk into a bar… 🧸 (Witchy! Reader)
Strangers to Lovers
The Metalhead and the Material Girl 🌊 
College Kids (College AU) 🦋
Three. 🧸 (Reader with powers)
I am on a break from writing Eddie atm
7K notes · View notes
tonyspicks · 1 year
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Purdue Boilermakers vs Wisconsin Badgers 3/2/2023 Picks Predictions Previews
Purdue Boilermakers vs Wisconsin Badgers 3/2/2023 Picks Predictions Previews by Tonys team of professional handicappers who research College Basketball. Visit Us for Free Football Sports Picks, NBA Free Picks, Free NCAAF Picks, Free NCAAB Picks, Free NFL Picks and Free College Basketball Picks
Visit: https://tinyurl.com/mrxhsuny
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arminsumi · 6 months
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SHOW-OFF
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
Love sick Suguru showing off during a basketball game to impress you, but it ends with him in the nurse's office with a bloody nose.
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2k
Note : my mind wanted to write requests but then my fingers wrote this instead... 😅
Summary : Suguru is a college heart throb that tries so very hard to grab your attention, but he finally earns it at the worst time — during an awry basketball game, when he's on the floor with a bloody nose.
Warnings : pining, fistfight, bloody nose, some angst, suggestive joke
Playme : play date
🍒 More from Jay : GETO works / JJK works / Oct. reqs open
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Suguru Geto is, theoretically and practically, the guy that every girl in this college wants. He knows this. He's experienced this. He's got endless admirers. Eyes are always on him when he walks down the corridor.
So it baffles him when you don't pay attention to him. You're a challenge, and that ropes him right in.
"Haha, she walked right past you?" Satoru laughs. They're loitering in the corridor after classes.
"She walked right past me." Suguru nods, emphasizing dramatically until he turns it into a joke — but it isn't a joke, he's genuinely irked.
During class, he pouts like he's a teenage boy again, and scribbles into the margins of his notes;
私は彼女の心の片隅にもいません。 I'm not even in the back of her mind.
He's just as bad as his best friend when it comes to seeking and basking in the attention of doting girls — if not worse. Satoru is slowly weaning off the drug of popularity as he begins attending college, but Suguru is still stuck in the odd transitional stage.
There's a lighthearted basketball competition being held amongst the burly sporty boys one day, and sitting atop the bleachers Suguru spots your face. His eyes light up, he observes you from down on the court.
The squirming you do when you sit. The way your head tilts as you speak to your friend. The curling smile you make at their jokes.
I want to make you squirm when you sit next to me.
Why can't you look at me with the same adoration?
God, if you'd smile at me like that I'd fall to pieces.
Suguru's brows are furrowed so deeply that Satoru and Shoko ask if he's brooding about you again. And sure enough, he is.
"She's just sitting there." he emphasizes annoyedly.
Satoru places a comedic, sympathetic hand on Suguru's shoulder. "Don't worry, once you start bouncing balls all over the court she'll have to look your way."
"Yeah... she's gonna be completely star struck by me playing a stupid basketball game... " Suguru scoffs sarcastically. "Why the hell did you convince me to play again...?" he mutters under his breath.
Shoko hands back Satoru's glasses, "She might be into sporty guys. So give it your all, you pathetic loser." she jokes and heads off, trotting up the bleachers.
So Suguru determinedly gives it his all, never fumbling, never tripping, never mucking up his shots. He becomes a panting, sweaty mess, and in one quick moment as he's wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm, he glances at you and you glance in his general direction, but not really at him.
Did she look at me, or am I imagining things?
His heart is already racing from the intensive exercise of running back and forth on a court, but the thought of you actually watching him as he plays makes his heart thump.
The sound of squeaking shoes ricochets off the walls and polished floors. Suguru loses focus for a moment, thinking hard about you as he stares at the bleachers, and then someone collides with him. He's caught so off-guard that he just topples over and his body meets with the hard floor.
"—What the fuck!"
"—Suguru? Why are you just standing around? The hell were you staring at just now?"
You and Suguru make brief eye contact and it sets him completely off balance, both physically and mentally.
Fuck fuck fuck, she's actually looking over. Why now?
Satoru helps Suguru to his feet, the whistle blows.
"Seriously, what the hell are you staring at? First Satoru doesn't pass the ball to me, now you fall over like a dainty princess—"
"Sukuna, keep speakin' to my boy like that and I'll cut your tongue out."
"Satoru, your boy is the reason we're losing; he's too busy being a fucking show-off for his crush on the bleachers." Sukuna has no shame and points in your general direction.
"This isn't a serious game, why the fuck are you getting so riled up!"
Suguru feels this sense of mortification stemming from the center of his chest as you finally, finally pay attention to him.
Oh my god. Look away. Look away. Look away.
"Sukuna, you're such a fucking cunt." Suguru spits slowly, unexpectedly.
Sukuna blinks at him incredulously. "... the fuck did you just call me?"
"I called you a cunt."
Poor boy Suguru, he's strong and capable of avoiding punches, but when he sees you coming down from the bleachers and approaching to the left at the same time as Sukuna's arm pulls back for a punch, he pays attention to you and that unfortunately results in a fist colliding with his pretty boy face.
The coach is quick to pry Satoru off of Sukuna, it's a chaotic moment.
Amidst the chaos, there's you. There's Suguru. The latter on the floor, splayed and softly groaning in pain, watching his best friend getting into a fistfight through. And the prior coming to kneel at his side, asking this half-conscious boy if he's okay.
Suguru squints at you, feels your hand reach out to wipe the blood dribbling over his lips, and falls in love in the midst of chaos.
I'm alive, but it feels like I'm in heaven staring at an angel.
You and him are deep in a moment, enclosed in a bubble that's separate from reality.
Satoru is pried off Sukuna by coach Fushiguro.
The bubble pops.
A panting, blue-eyed boy returns to his best friend, paying you a short glance of curiosity before bending down at Suguru's side like you are, "Suguru, you good?" he huffs.
"Yeah... need an ice pack..." Suguru mumbles. He sounds and looks dazed, and not just because he sustained a hit from a burly boy like Sukuna.
"Let's go to the nurse's office." you say, your voice carrying through Suguru's ears and finding a pathway into his soul.
Satoru nods, fangy teeth showing as he seethes and shakes his scuffed hand to alleviate the prickling pain across his knuckles. "Yeah, let's. C'mon, big boy, upsy-daisy."
You're make a cute attempt to help Satoru pull Suguru to his feet, even though he's a skyscraper to you.
In the nurse's office, he's just an uncomposed, love sick college boy. The complete opposite of his usual composed, nonchalant demeanor.
When he's alone with a girl, he usually knows exactly what to do with his words but with you they just fall haphazardly out of his stupid mouth, as if he's been rendered an uncouth loser in your company. In your company, up close, actually right here in your presence, in your air. Not distantly observing you in class, or as you're sat atop the bleachers, or as you walk down the corridors.
She's right here.
"Uh... so..." he begins, eager to talk to you at last.
"You sit next to me in professor Lin's class, right?" you interrupt.
He completely malfunctions. "I— y— yyyeah, I think so— I mean I do. Yeah, I do."
"Bangs guy?" you ask.
He groans and nods. You laugh.
"Yeah... bangs guy. Fucking hell, why has that become my identity in this damn school..." he rubs his eyes, then looks down at his knees.
"I mean, because you are the bangs guy." you say.
He's about to smile, then you add; "The hot bangs guy that sits next to me in class — sounds like the title of a romcom, doesn't it?" you joke.
Suguru widens his eyes, and desperately tries to seem unphased after you just flippantly called him hot.
"Yeah... haha..." he nods, voice daring to crack.
You continue your joke, "There could be a spinoff: "The hot bangs guy that stole my heart on the bloody basketball court" or something."
"These titles are getting longer..." he chuckles, avoiding eye contact.
His heart pumps harder.
Holy shit, is she flirting with me? Like, actually? That's so fucked. I'm so lucky. Oh Sukuna, thank you for making this possible, you fucking cunt.
"The hot bangs guy that banged m— no okay, I'll stop before this gets inappropriate, haha."
"Oh, I don't mind. Please, continue." he laughs properly now.
The smoothness is such an act, and you can tell; his dorkiness shines through. He's in love like a loser.
"The hhh—haha—the hot bangs guy that— that banged me." you say through giggles.
Satoru walks into the nurse's office with vending machine snacks.
"What's goin' on here?" he smirks at the two of you and flashes his eyes at Suguru.
"Just stupidity." you respond.
"Yeah..." Suguru smiles.
"Suguru... you have blood all over your lips. It's so hot." Satoru murmurs sarcastically.
"Oh, thanks babe. I'm going for the "just got beat up" look."
"Uhh... more like the "Sukuna's punching bag" look, you mean?" you joke.
"Wow! We just met and you're already humiliating me like this?"
You smile at him.
Satoru flits his eyes between you two, feeling the flirty tension in the atmosphere between you and Suguru. He decides to be the catalyst, because god knows Suguru is too hopeless right now to ask you out himself.
"So... when are you two going on a date?" he asks, wiggling his brows.
"Haha, what?" you give him a look.
Suguru laughs awkwardly and gives Satoru a look, too. A murderous one. "Yeah... what?"
"C'mon, the chemistry between you two is off the charts. I already feel like a third wheel. No, but seriously — you two are such losers for each other, you should go on a da—"
"— Satoru is a jokester, sorry. Ignore him." Suguru interrupts, feeling a flaming embarrassment in his chest.
"Ahah... it's okay." you nod awkwardly.
Satoru's eyes flicker upwards in annoyance, "Hopeless losers..." he mutters under his breath. "Can't say I didn't try."
You excuse yourself to take a sudden call, smiling at Suguru as you leave and so that's all he can see in his mind; the image of your smile.
He groans when you finally leave, and falls back dramatically on the cot. He drapes an arm over his eyes.
Satoru breaks the silence with a pitying whistle, "Dude, she's sooo not into you."
"Thanks, Satoru."
"I tried playing cupid, I really thought it would work." Satoru clicks his tongue.
"Well, sorry but you're shit at your job, Cupid. Anyways... I thought she was flirting with me for a second there... but I think it was all jokes..."
"Aw..."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I like her so fucking bad.
The poor boy replays all the scenes of your interactions with him thus far, and pauses on the moments where he thinks he was awkward. He files the best parts; you kneeling at his side, you wiping his blood off his nose, you joking suggestively with him, you "flirting" with him, you smiling at him.
"Suguru? You gonna spend your life in the nurse's office, or are we gonna go cheer your sorry ass up in Shibuya?" Satoru asks, stretching as he spoke. The afternoon light streams in through the shuttered windows.
"... yeah."
Satoru switches to a serious tone, watching Suguru move lethargically from his resting position on the cot. "I know you like her a lot, but don't get too bummed out... maybe this is just the beginning of something good."
Suguru pauses, contemplates, then rises to his feet. They open the door and leave the nurse's office.
"... or maybe it's just another thing in my life that's not meant to be..."
He looks so glum, and then suddenly his features light up when he hears your familiar voice calling his name. You're standing in the corridor, coming up to him.
"... hey, are you free on Saturday?"
His mind blanks.
"Free for... what?"
"A date?"
"Oh..."
"...?" you look at him, expecting an answer.
"Y—yeah, Saturday's cool."
You smile genuinely at him, and he snapshots it in his mind's eye.
"M'kay, I'll text you the time and place. See you tomorrow."
And then you say your goodbyes, Suguru stutters and chokes up a bit. He gives Satoru an open-mouthed look.
"No fucking wayyy..."
"Damn. You should go thank Sukuna. His magical fist made all this possible, after all." Satoru jokes.
Suguru nods, "Yeah, him and his magical fist. Hey... can you pinch me?"
"You're not dreaming, Suguru."
"I don't trust it. Pinch me."
Satoru pinches Suguru's cheek.
"See? Not dreaming."
"Wow... shit alright... oh my god... yo... I got a date on Saturday. I... OH MY FUCKING GOD." He smiles a big ass smile and does a half-spin, "I HAVE A FUCKING DATE WITH HER ON SATURDAY."
"Fucking dork." Satoru chuckles.
"A fucking dork with a date." Suguru rasps excitedly.
He wraps an arm around Satoru's shoulders as they head down the corridor, "Thanks for convincing me to play basketball, Satoru."
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
I didn’t feel like this post was enough of the Steve and Chrissy friendship so please enjoy the prologue ficlet I just spit out faster than a person actually can (please excuse typos!!!)
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“You ever think about leaving this place?”
“What, Hawkins?”
“Yeah.”
Steve and Chrissy were hiding under the bleachers, waiting for the school to clear out for the day. This was only their second time hanging out together, but Steve hadn’t had this much fun in years.
“I guess. It just doesn’t seem like it’ll happen for me.”
They were sitting across from each other, whispering in case there were any stragglers in the gym, Chrissy still in her cheerleader uniform from practice and Steve freshly showered from basketball practice.
Jason had left with his friends a while ago, so there probably wasn’t much of a reason to stay hidden, but neither of them wanted to deal with him if he came back.
“I have to get out.”
She said it so seriously, Steve wasn’t sure how to respond at first.
Luckily, she continued to explain before he had to.
“If I stay, my future is picked out for me. I’ll graduate, marry Jason, work as a secretary somewhere and have two or three kids that I don’t want. I won’t even get to go to college.”
“Do you want to?”
Chrissy blushed and looked down.
“I wanna be a vet. But my mom told me I can’t. Too much school and she thinks Jason will find someone else and then I’ll be alone.”
“You could find someone at school! That’s so stupid. Your mom sounds stupid.”
Chrissy gave him a small smile in agreement.
“She thinks it’s the life I want.”
“Well, let’s say you get out of here and become a vet. What else does your life look like?”
“Hm.” She tapped her fingers against her knee, then beamed at him. “I’d marry Eddie Munson and he’d bring me backstage on his tours.”
This made Steve pause.
“Eddie Munson? Why him?”
“He’s amazing. He’s cute, and nice, and different. He wants to leave here and be someone. He’s brave.”
Steve agreed. Of course, he didn’t know how to say so without giving away that he’d had a crush on Eddie for months. That was new for him; liking men, admitting that he liked men, knowing the man he liked was Eddie.
Chrissy was looking at him expectantly. He didn’t know what to say.
“What do you think about him?”
Something about the way she asked set alarm bells off in his head. Nobody knew about him liking guys the way he liked girls. It wasn’t exactly safe for others to know.
“I mean, he seems a little odd. But yeah, he seems nice.”
She squinted her eyes at him before looking away, her eyes finding a spot behind him to focus on as she spoke.
“You know I have a cousin, Brad, who has a partner a lot like Eddie. He’s not allowed at family stuff, but I write him letters sometimes and he sends some to me through a friend.”
“Oh.”
“So if you maybe thought Eddie was cute too…”
“What? What makes you think I think he’s cute?”
“Hey, calm down. I was just saying if you liked him, I’d be a safe person to tell, that’s all.”
Steve’s body relaxed. He didn’t have to know Chrissy that well to know she wouldn’t lie about that.
“I-”
“You also don’t have to tell me or anyone. It’s up to you.”
“I do think he’s cute. In an annoying way.”
There. That wasn’t so bad.
Chrissy was smiling at him, reaching a hand over to his knee to squeeze it.
“You should ask him out.”
“What.”
Okay, Chrissy was a smart girl. Surely, she understood why he couldn’t do that.
“Yeah! I bet he’d say yes. Who wouldn’t?”
“Any guy I ask out!”
“Not Eddie. I’m pretty sure he’s into both.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Just a hunch,” Chrissy shrugged.
“Do you have evidence for your hunch or are you just hoping I get punched in the face?”
Chrissy rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Maybe he was being dramatic, but not that dramatic.
“Not exactly. I’ve just seen him at a bar that’s known for being a safe place for people who may swing in different directions.”
“And what were you doing there?” He raised a brow in question.
“I was testing a hunch.”
“You and your hunches.”
“I was right about this one!”
“And what was that hunch?”
“That I liked girls.”
Steve didn’t know what to say. Chrissy Cunningham was like him?
“Oh. So you’re…”
“Yeah. That’s how I guessed you were. And how I’m guessing that Eddie is too.”
“Maybe. I think you’d have a better shot, though.”
Chrissy shrugged. “I think you should ask him out at graduation.”
“What? Step on stage to get my diploma and declare my love? That sounds like a move he would do, not me.”
“No. But after. Maybe invite him to the diner to celebrate.”
“What about you?”
“What about me? I’ve got Jason. Eddie’s gonna be out of this place as soon as he can. He shouldn’t have to wait on me.”
“You have just as much of a shot with him as I do.”
Chrissy thought for a moment before she gave him a soft smile.
“I think you two have a chance at something. Pinky promise me you’ll try?”
Steve held out his pinky and latched it with Chrissy’s.
He would try for her, but he wouldn’t let himself consider a future with Eddie.
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