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beabatoru · 2 days ago

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10 things I hate about you 𝜗ৎ hockey player! gojo x reader

pt. 1/2

pairing ⊹ ࣪ ˖ college au - hockey player! gojo x reader

summary : getting accepted into one of the ivy league universities was supposed to be you getting the best education you could get, not the centerpiece of a bet created by none other than the hockey team, the players challenge satoru that he can't make you fall for him in 10 days in which he allows his pride take over to go out of his way to take on the bet thinking it would be easy. what he didn't expect was to fall for you instead, but after you find out his ulterior motives, your trust in him shatters and so does his heart. now with the truth out, he is now more determined than ever to get you back, but this time, he isn't playing games.

warning / tags ⟢ fluff, angst, brief smut, college au, this fic is based on the film '10 things I hate about you', partial angst with readers father regarding sickness, reader is low income.

w.c : 10k

a / n . this is a reupload from my old blog ! and yes this fic was inspired by '10 things I hate about you'

transferring from a community college to one of the top 10 universities was a huge step for you. you weren't even sure how you did it. but those two years of attending your local community college that wasn't even ten minutes away from your house paid off. one that made you feel ashamed in going since it felt like a detour from your actual goals.

growing up, you promised your family members that they'd see you majoring in the best schools and in becoming something they would be proud of to call a daughter. thats why you studied so hard in grade school, getting the best grades not allowing them to go below an 85%. but after your mother left shortly after your father got diagnosed with cancer. your dreams had to take a backseat to allow you to become the backbone of your family that consisted of you, your father, and your two younger brothers.

money came in short with your minimum paying job and it just wasn't enough to pay off any college funds. your brother who just turned sixteen always helped you out with groceries and bills now that your father retired from his job, after you forced him to, making sure he was taken care of at all times. hospital bills were also pricey, sometimes your insurance wouldn't cover all the costs and they had to be paid directly from your personal money.

so after applying to yale and actually receiving an acceptance letter in the mail a week after had you trembling in both excitement and fear. you were happy you could finally get the education you've been longing for, but on the other hand you wouldn't want to leave all the responsibility to your brother. he disagreed and encouraged your dreams instead when you sat him down to talk.

"y/n you've always been wanting to go to university. im sixteen now, im not the ten year old you know anymore, I am more than willing to take care after dad and matt."

you let out a sigh as you averted your gaze back down to the letter in your hands. the bold lettering called out your name and you tried to resist. but you couldn't.

"anything happens, you call me immediately." you firmly ordered. the pink haired boy chuckled, the corner of his lips lifted up as well as the corners of his eyes wrinkled before nodding. "got it."

thats how you found yourself packing the last bit of your shirts. no matter how hard you tried to, you just couldn't help the bit of tears that spilled from your eyes. you paused, letting out a shaky breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around your waist. you looked down to see the soft face of your brother, Matt.

"sissy dont cry. me papa and yuji will be okay!" he promised.

you knelt down to wrap your arms around him as well, holding onto the warmth you were going to leave behind in a few hours. then, another pair wrapped around you both, a much stronger set of arms, then another, your fathers, who was weaker than before but still full of love. before you knew it, your whole family was cuddling together in the comfort of your own room.

no words were exchanged for a few minutes.

"ill miss those blueberry pancakes you make" your father whispered, making everyone giggle. you raised your head up, propping it on top of matt.

"ill leave the recipe for you guys."

your father placed a small delicate peck on your forehead.

airports were your least favorite method of transportation. you couldn't handle hearing the incoherent voice in the speakers call out the plane that was about to board in twenty minutes, or the panicked looks on peoples faces when they realize they booked the wrong flight, or the people just in general, so many people. the whole process was messy and annoying.

your family walked you to where the escalators headed up to your gate. with a sigh, you turned to face them watching as they held back tears. "ill miss you guys." a beat passed. then another. and you found yourself in another family hug.

it was still weird with the missing pair of warm arms that belonged to your mother. but looking back, maybe they weren't warm at all. they were always cold and empty whenever you hugged her. you reminded yourself that she left willingly. you quickly pushed those negative thoughts behind, not wanting to think about her when you had the next best four years of your life right ahead of you.

"call me if you need anything." you said with your voice more steady.

your father nodded before everyone let go at the sound of the speakers calling out your gate number. with one final look and a last goodbye, you stood on the escalators holding back tears of your own.

if the process of checking into the airport wasn't annoying enough, the next five hours boarding the plane itself would be. the man snoring next to you couldn't be any louder, the baby crying behind you wouldn't shut up, and the women gossiping in front of you was the only source of entertainment you could get.

but it all came to this. yale. the beautiful sight of the university's campus. you took it all in, seeing how students walked in with luggages or boxes of their own with the assistance of their parents or friends.

the sun casted a glow on the building itself making it appear straight out of a movie. you stood there for a moment, continuing to take it all in before your main character moment was interrupted by someone bumping into you.

he had white hair that resembled snow itself. he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. the boys behind him that you figured were his friends laughed at the sight.

"oh uh sorry." he quickly apologized, glancing your way smiling like he meant the entire opposite of his apology before playfully nudging his friend as they continued making their way into the building. you blinked, continuing to watch as he disappeared. he was oddly.. beautiful.

after picking up a few papers form the directory, you followed the directions on the map to where the dormitories were located. you found out that you would be sharing your dorm with a roommate, you didn't mind as you saw this as an opportunity to make your very first friend.

and you were right because the second you twisted the door knob, not fully getting to turn it around before it swung open on its own, introducing a rather tall girl with the prettiest aesthetic and the sweetest smile plastered on her face that comforted you in ways you didn't know you needed.

"hi! I'm miwa!" the girl said in which you returned her greeting with your name. she moved to the side allowing you to step in. you took in the large room. it looks like she already has claimed her part of the room on the left side. band and show posters plastered all over her walls neatly with stuffed animals lying peacefully on her bed. it reminded you fondly of matt recalling how he has millions of plushies on his bed.

"need some help with that?" she pointed at your suitcases. you hesitated at first not wanting to bother her but it wouldn't hurt, right? "yes please." you chuckled which made her grin.

"great, roommate bonding begins now!"

hours pass by full of cleaning and organizing and chatter between you and the blue haired girl. you found out that she's been here for the past two years and you explained to her that you were a transfer. somewhere in between hanging fairy lights and folding blankets, she let it slip that she's crushing on a boy that is on the hockey team.

"didn't know they had a hockey team here." you said as you placed the last piece of clothing in the closet provided by the school. miwa gasped dramatically. "okay now I need to take you out to watch a game sometime!"

she flopped down onto your bed next to you. "its like an essential yale culture."

"deal. i'd like to see how good looking this boy you claim is the most handsome boy in all of yale to exist really is."

"he is!"

the first day of school wasn't until next week, yet you could already feel the nerves setting in as well as the homesickness. you pulled out your phone, dimming the brightness now that miwa was asleep and all the lights were turned off. pressing on yujis contact you sent him a message.

you || 9:04 P.M

everything alright?

yuji || 9:10 P.M

everything's great

you let out a sigh of relief at his words.

the first day was full of chaos, at least for you. you woke up a bit late after your alarm failed to do its job, you lost your map that showed the entire campus, and on top of that you had no idea what to wear.

after brushing your teeth and washing your face, you quickly slipped on a pair of pants and a cute top before rushing out of your dorm all while brushing your hair. you made it on time thankfully, but you surely learned your lesson to set your alarm to full volume.

your classes finally came to an end and you dragged your tired body that was aching from carrying all the syllabus and textbooks in your bag towards your dorm. miwa was already there scrolling through her phone.

"oh hey!," she flinched as she took a closer look at you. "you look rough"

you placed your bag down on the floor before flopping on your bed. "I am rough" you said with a grumble. she moved from her bed towards yours. "hey lighten up, tomorrow will be better. its the second day of school and the first hockey game"

"already?"

"yeah. since its the same previous team as last year versus some other school. coach said he wanted to kick off this season early for some reason. im not complaining, I get to see kokichi!"

"oh right your man" you teased which made her chubby pale cheeks turn a light pink shade before she bolted towards her closet pulling out two tops. "okay so which one says 'hey cute hockey player over there! wanna go out with me?'"

you burst out laughing before pointing at the one on the right hand. "that one, definitely that one."

you were never the type of person to enjoy sports. your brothers and dad enjoyed them though. they always connected both the couches together and gathered a bunch of blankets and snacks whenever a big game came up. now you are here witnessing one happen right in front of you, not on a screen.

you pulled out your phone to snap a picture to send to the family group chat. one you created after you had to delete the previous one with your mother in it. you angled the phone carefully, snapping a picture of the players already spread out ready to kick off the game.

you stared at your screen for a second before sending the message to the group chat. the second you sent it, the announcer's voice came to the speakers and the crowd erupted.

"there he is!" miwa squealed as she pointed at the dark haired boy, kokichi. he was rather attractive and you could see why she liked him. they definitely would make a cute couple. he was walking with a friend who had white hair. your eyes squinted as you looked a bit closer.

it was the same boy who bumped into you a week ago. his white locks were messy and he had a grin plastered over his face. it seemed that he was popular with the girls because they went wild at the sight of him.

you were interrupted from your thoughts when miwa's elbow made contact with your shoulder. "look, he waved at me!"

your eyes traced back to kokichi. "yeah, I saw." but your eyes kept wandering back to the boy with white hair. number ten. you watched as he placed his helmet on and slid across the rink to get into position.

a buzzer sounded across the arena, putting the game to a start and sending the crowd into a loud roar. you sat a bit straighter as you tried to keep track of the hockey puck. all the players were a blur of white and blue as they slid through the ice rink.

number 10 was sharp.

he was focused and quick, weaving through the other players. he stole the puck clean with a swift movement of his stick, gliding towards the opposite teams net. the air was thick with anticipation and it seemed that the entire arena was holding it's breath, and you didn't realize that you were holding yours as well.

then he hit it straight into the back of the cage with a satisfying clank.

applause echoed and so did the screams of the players' name.

satoru.

he rushed to his teammates doing a small celebration before continuing the game. maybe hockey wasn't too bad.

the game ended as soon as the buzzer could be heard, with your school winning. people made their way towards the exit or down to the rink. the hockey cheerleaders, glittering with their tiny ass skirts, made their way to their boyfriends who were players.

but most of them?

they went to satoru, congratulating him like he had just saved the world itself from an apocalypse. his hands reached to take off his gear, forehead dripping with a thin layer of sweat.

"im gonna go talk to kokichi." miwa said as she stood up from the bleacher already feeling the nerves settling down her stomach. you nodded, following her. she wrapped her arms around the boy, a hug in which he returned as well.

"thanks for coming." he said in a low voice placing his lips on hers practically melting the poor girl setting her rosacea on fire. you stood there a bit awkward not realizing that a pair of eyes was placed on your figure.

"hey, is she new?" a player asked his friends, pointing directly at you.

the other boy shrugged. "I guess, never seen her before." he turned to satoru who was busy untying the shoelaces of his skates, whistling at him. "yo satoru! remember when you were whining about not having any other girl to crack?"

satoru's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a bit before he approached his friend. "yeah, what about it?" the guy grinned, jerking his chin toward the bleachers.

"what about her?"

he could barely see you due to his poor eyesight now that he had taken off his contacts. he saw you with a girl he knew was in a situationship with kokichi, his friend. "who the hell is that?"

"she's new. go after her."

satoru grumbled. "she looks like a total loner." his friend shrugged, untying his long black hair. "you like a challenge though, don't you?" he tossed his stick into his bag. "ten days. thats the bet"

"woah we're making this a bet?" satoru raised his eyebrow. there was a beat of silence, long enough to make him think this through. it's been a while since he's been laid, not wanting to continue the life of being a frat boy and a 'play boy.' he really just wanted to focus on his studies and hockey as well, if he found a girl somewhere throughout that then he'd settle down.

he grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip from it. "ten days." he repeated, mostly to himself. "suguru I don't know-"

"you backing out?" suguru questioned, wanting to stir something.

no matter how much he wanted to resist, he just couldn't because no matter how much he swore that he stopped doing that shit, he missed it just a bit. "fine, ten days."

his jaw was tightened watching as his friend smirked. the group chuckled a bit, like it was just another 'harmless' game. satoru glanced at you.

pretty.

you and miwa made your way to the exit after the little make-out session with her now new boyfriend. she kept squealing about how she couldn't believe she finally got together with him. you were incredibly happy for the both of them.

"he kissed me! like he actually kissed me! I thought I was going to pass out!"

satoru debated, standing still for a moment. you were a step away from leaving, your arm wrapped around your friends, chattering about whatever. part of him wanted to plan this through, something smoother than just..

"fuck it." he mumbled.

his legs moved before his brain ordered them to. "hey-" he called out, jogging a bit to fully reach you. you turned slowly, miwa did too with her eyebrows furrowed. he realized that maybe this wasn't the best option. his lips parted a bit before continuing.

"uh.." he scratched the back of his neck. "you dropped something."

you stared at him in confusion. "no I didn't.." you looked down to confirm that you in fact, didn't drop any item.

"right uhm, that was supposed to be my opening line" he cursed at himself, but it made you chuckle. satoru was dorky, you thought. he had an uneven smile before he looked back at you.

"im satoru"

"I know" you felt like everyone in this damn school knew who he was. "oh im y/n." you quickly introduced yourself after the small pause. for some reason, satoru didn't feel like this was the beginning of a bet he agreed to, but a beginning for something he wasn't ready for.

"go out with me."

miwa snapped her head so fast towards you, you could have sworn you heard a crack. you blinked at satoru, unsure if you heard him right.

"what?"

"go out with me, please." he repeated confident just like the first time. you weren't entirely convinced. "is this a joke?" satoru froze. of course this was a joke. he always played around with random girls so why did it make him feel guilty this time.

"no. I want you, pretty." he smiled softly, showing off his pearly whites that could have any girl soaking her panties in under 10 seconds.

you could feel miwa vibrating next to you, begging you to say yes, or at least something. "I think i'll pass." you mumbled, not unkindly just firm enough to make your point, staring at him for a bit before turning your heel to leave with miwa who now had a disappointed look on her face.

"whyyy?" she whined.

a grunt left satoru's lips. "I can take you out somewhere, anywhere! real nice places sweetheart!"

"like the 7/11 in broadway?" you shot back. he froze before chuckling a genuine laugh, shaking his head. "even better!"

the corner of your lips tugged up a smile as you giggled with miwa at his advances as you both left.

"well look at you missy, pulling mr captain of the hockey team."

"im just that good." you continued to hold your smile, not letting it drop.

and neither did he.

every night at eight, you'd have a video call with your family, just to make sure everything was alright back at home.

"he had an appointment today." yuji said while he was washing the dirty plates, handing them to matt to dry. you used to always put the dishes away back to their original places, but you were no longer there to do your job and that hurt you a bit.

it stung seeing how they had to adapt to live without you and you recalled how you all had to do the same when your mother left. you watched how matt didn't hand it to anyone, he just placed them down.

"and the results?" you asked, your voice quiet and steady but ready for any news you didn't want to hear. not yet.

"not out yet, but im sure nothing has changed since last time he got checked up."

yuji turned off the sink, handing the smaller kid the last dish before drying his hands with a towel. "how's yale treating you? saw the picture you sent."

you hummed looking back at how the day went. "it's going great I guess. our school won the game by the way, oh and a boy wants to take me out."

"you agreed?" yuji has always been the overprotective type, despite you being older.

you answered by shaking your head. "no, he's sketchy."

"how come?" now he was completely alert. a boy is hitting on his sister hundreds of miles away from home? not on his watch. you shrugged.

"he has a whole fangirl club or something."

matts voice could be heard from afar. "he's a red flag!" his words made you chuckle. "you been teaching him new vocabulary?"

yuji rolled his eyes. "its the kids at his school. but seriously, trust your gut. if you don't feel like something is right about that gut, don't take his offer."

you nodded, pressing the sleeve of your sweater up to your nose taking in the scent of old memories. it hasnt been washed since you left home and that nostalgic smell lingered.

one that you desperately wanted to go back to.

satoru could've sworn he left dissecting frogs back in high school, but here he was again, poking around at the laid back amphibians internal organs. "no way am I doing this shit." with a mutter, he placed the tweezers down gagging, shaking his hands in disgust before pulling out his cigarette box, sliding one out placing it in between his pretty pink lips, far too pretty for a man. "smoking in class? you'll set the smoke alarm off." suguru scooted closer to his friend.

"better than doing a bbl on a frog." satoru grumbled, looking away not being able to stare at the gross mess that was right in front of him. "that girl from yesterday.." he narrowed his eyes in thought, trying to remember your name. "y/n" he mumbled after it finally reached him.

"she didn't want to go out with me." he continued. the black haired boy scoffed, not comprehending the words that were coming out of the school's playboy. " you're satoru fucking gojo, this should be easy as hell for you!"

"look man, I dont do this shit anymore."

suguru rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked at the frog's corpse. "I'll pay you." satoru grunted bringing the lighter up to his cigarette, huffing it slowly before blowing it towards suguru, in which he looked down at the smoking boy unimpressed.

"I have enough money, I don't need your pocket change."

suguru paused in deep thought. "you're right, heard she's only into pretty guys anyways." satoru brought a hand up to his chest as if he was truly hurt, because he was.

“are you telling me im not a pretty guy?” he took out the cigarette from his mouth, before crushing it down against the table, which left a nasty dent on the cheap laminate. "why do you want me to play with her?"

suguru brought his pierced tongue out to lick his dry lips. "I guess I just miss the old you. seriously satoru, I'll pay you. 300 bucks if you take her out on a date," he scooted closer to his friend. "500 if you get in her panties. and 1000 if you manage to make her your date to hoco."

as if divine intervention occurred, the door creaked open, pausing the chatter between the two boys. there you were. wearing a well put together outfit that just made satoru's hormones run crazy, as you made your way to your desk. the sight of you made gojo straighten his posture suddenly hyper aware of every detail of himself. quickly running a hand through his hair and gulping, his adams apple bobbing.

he turned to look at suguru who was already giving him a pointed look.

"bet."

another thing that you like about yale's campus is that its not too far away from shopping areas. you found a nearby barnes and noble not even a few blocks away from the school. it soon became your go to stop where you would buy books and cd's. you weren't able to fit any of your beloved music or novels when you were packing, so you started a new collection that was placed neatly back at your dorm.

you entered, the bell placed on top of the door notifying any workers of your entrance quickly making your way to the music disc section, straight shelves full of cd's. you're surprised to see many new arrivals.

some were year old music, and some were rare old ones from the 2000's. you reached out to grab a few, a soft smile plastered on your face as you scanned the labels. so deep into it, you didn't notice the bell chiming again.

'debut' by bjork was being held by your hand right now, having an inner battle with yourself whether to be financially responsible for today. you placed the cd back when you remembered that the hospital bill from your fathers last visit would soon come back. and you were not looking forward to seeing the multiple zeros behind whatever number was in front of it.

"excuse me, have you seen any cd of bjork?" the smooth voice behind you asked. "oh yeah-" you answered, turning to look back at the voice.

halfway through your sentence, you took a good look at who was behind you. satoru. "oh, it's you." your eyes narrowed as they focused on him. the boy slid his glasses on the crown of his head. you didn't know he even wore those. satoru seemed to have noticed your observation.

"lost my contacts."

"are you stalking me?" you asked defensively which just made him laugh. his body got closer to yours as he skimmed through the cd's.

"you not getting that bjork one?" he asked tilting his head as his long pale fingers slid the music disc right out of its place. the plastic creaked the second he held it.

"uh its a bit expensive.." the words came out in a mumble, almost embarrassed to admit you couldn't afford a fifty dollar cd. you shifted your weight onto your right leg, looking anywhere but him.

he looked at you before looking down at the case. "guess I'll get it."

you blinked. "didn't know you liked her."

"I dont. but I like you, so I'll get it for you, baby. anything else you want?"

you head snapped towards him, watching how he didn't even let you answer as he placed the bjork case that contained the disc you've been wanting for a while into a shopping basket. you were so shocked you didn't even realize the term of endearment.

"its fifty.." you reminded him.

"be a sweetheart and dont mention the prices, I dont care one bit about it." your eyes dropped to the basket, lips parting to say anything but nothing came out. nothing but a, "can I get the post one..?"

you couldn't find how much one has ever spent at barnes and nobles, but you were pretty sure you may have broken whatever record there was. satoru didn't mind, just like he said.

when the cashier asked how he'd like his receipt he declined it. when he saw the total on the screen in bold green letters, he ignored it. and when he handed you the bags full of books, cd's, and figures, some that you didn't even ask for. he just noticed you staring at them for a little too long and he'd just grab it and place it in the basket, he had a smile plastered right on those pink lips.

"I think I deserve a kiss for all of this.."

its the least you could do, right? besides he didn't tell you where he wanted the kiss. so you stepped up on your tippy toes a bit to place your lips on his cheek.

"thank you. seriously thank you." his smirk softened to a smile, returning the kiss but on your forehead making your breathing stutter.

"any time," he mumbled kissing your nose before backing up. "oh here, give me your phone"

your hand pulls out your phone from your back pocket, handing it to him. "what for?"

"im putting my number in.." his fingers typed quickly, the dumb smirk on his face not leaving, before slipping it back into your hands.

'my sugar daddy'

you visibly cringed at the name he chose. "you've got to be kidding me." you said with pure disbelief. he nodded, proud of his decision. "I did buy you all this didn't I?" he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, leaning down to whisper into it.

"ill send you a picture to set up as my contact photo. perhaps a nude?"

"perhaps not."

miwa's eyes widened when she saw you stumble into the shared dorm with heavy bags on each hand. "woah.. didn't know it was black friday." she half joked, getting up from her bed to help you out. you exhaled in relief when the weight was taken from your poor limp arms. "and I didn't pay a single penny."

she averted her gaze from the bags up to you. "who did pay for them? your sugar daddy?" your face burned at that damn name. "you're not wrong. it was satoru." you held up your phone, opening this contact name you knew would have miwa laughing.

she squinted, looking at it before she burst into giggles.

"hes so extra." you set the bags down on the desk, taking one thing out at a time. miwa wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. "how'd this happen?"

you dragged a hand down your face, shrugging. "he saw me at the store and offered to buy me whatever. but I swear I didn't ask for all of this."

"he likes you."

you paused for a second. "does he now?"

it was a dumb question. who else would buy a random person they have no interest in hundreds of dollars worth of barnes and noble? no one, except him of course.

you retold the same ridiculous events to yuji, who still wasn't pleased at the idea of you getting hit on not even a month into school. his arms were crossed over his chest as he was lazily sitting on his desk chair, same as you.

"return everything."

you scoffed. "no way! even if I did I wouldn't be able to, he didn't ask for a receipt."

"he shouldn't be buying you shit. didn't you tell me yesterday how your gut was telling you something was off?"you moved from your desk to your bed, sighing as your back hit the mattress. "well maybe I was wrong about him."

satoru felt proud of being able to treat you like a princess, buying you all sorts of things, showering you with everything you wanted. he remembered how you hesitated on buying that cd. it bothered him a bit.

'did she have a problem with money?'

his phone rang with a message from suguru.

'party tonight at the frat, you coming?"

of course he was, he hasn't missed a single function since he joined yale. his fingers typed out, "Omw!" but before he could send it, he stopped, and then deleted it. why was he thinking about you right now?

why is he declining a party?

"im not in the mood tonight."

he stared at the screen for a moment, realizing that he actually sent that. a calloused hand rubbed his cheekbone, exhaling before he received another notification, this time not from any of his friends but from spotify.

'the marias are performing near you! click to see ticket prices and shows available!'

the marias? where had he heard that name.. his mind instantly flashed to you. you were holding the marias disc, the one he bought you along with all the other cd's. it was as if his body was moving without him knowing because a second later, he was buying two tickets.

your first day was an unconfirmed barnes and noble date. but your second day, the concert, would be an actual date.

he clicked the 'pay now' button without hesitation.

you weren't expecting to see a screen showing the digital receipts slip right into your line of sight while you were halfway through placing some textbooks in your locker. the bold blue letters read, 'THE MARIAS'

"hi pretty.. got these for you and me." your eyes widened at the familiar voice. the white haired individual really had a habit of sneaking up behind you didn't he? "you.. you got-" you stammered, blinking at the sight of the tickets, then back at him.

"got these for you and me." he repeated himself, both his voice and gaze softening. not sure to be flattered or continue being suspicious, you slowly reached for his phone, taking it from his pale hand to make sure what you were seeing was real.

not only did he buy you both tickets to a music artist you liked, but he also got the best seats. "you got the marias tickets.." you said mostly to yourself. his smirk was still there, but it showed no sign of being cocky.

"mhm, thought you'd like it."

"satoru.. you already spent so much on me yesterday.." how come a boy you barely knew was dropping a thousand on you each day. "I told you I like you. this can be our first date." he gently grabbed back his phone.

you swallowed, your mind trying to wrap itself around the unexpected layers of satoru you’d been seeing over the last few days. and you wondered if you were the first one to see this version of him.

"one date." you said firmly as you lifted up your finger, finally agreeing to his advances. his charm was different.. it was bold, yes, but real. "don't push your luck, im only accepting because its bjork."

"there will be more than one date, pretty." there was short pauses between his words allowing each syllable to sink in. like he meant it.

you had no idea why you were allowing him to score another point at this game he was forcing you to play. "at least let me pay for the gas.. or for the food." you offered but satoru only scrunched his face up shaking his head.

"don't do that."

he had some extra cash on him. 300. just like suguru promised when he said he'd pay satoru 300 if he managed to take you out on a date.

"just wear something pretty for me, and easy to remove."

you rolled your eyes. "im not sure about that second part, you're pushing your luck here sir."

"mm no not sir baby, its sugar dadd-"

your hand shot out to cover his mouth, cutting him off before he even had the chance to finish. he was shocked for a bit before he licked a long stripe against your hand moaning.

you recoiled immediately, gagging with a mix of shock and disgust. he chuckled at your discomfort and the sight of you wiping your hand on his chest.

"you like that baby?"

"no!" you shot back, closing your locker before rushing to the bathroom to properly clean your hand.

"ill see you later my love!" he called out.

miwa helped you get ready for the concert date after school. she straightened your hair pin straight while you both talked about what could happen later. your phone vibrated with a notification from 'sugar daddy'

"you still wearing something easy to remove right?"

you stared at the message. any past thoughts of him not being that bad quickly vanished. obviously, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of your reply, so you left him on read. guess that hurt his feelings because a few minutes later he texted again.

"im joking baby :("

"still haven't changed that contact name?" miwa asked, finishing up the last strand for the final section. you grumbled a little 'shut it'

"im kind of nervous.." you admitted. this was going to be your first date after all.

miwa stopped, her hands hovering in mid air, before she turned your chair to face each other. her expression softened, a mix of understanding and excitement. "hey, it’s okay to be nervous. besides you kind of already know him.."

"briefly." you couldn't help but sigh, your eyes following her figure as she chose an outfit from her side of the closet to lend you.

"he wanted something easy to remove right?"

"dont."

you both met up to where you agreed, which was just outside the girls dormitories. the second he saw you, his heart fluttered.

you looked, no, you are gorgeous.

"...hey" a smile crept up on his face. he was dressed casual while you went all out thanks to miwa.

"hi" you smiled softly.

"you're so beautiful.." you'd be lying if you said you weren't flustered. even if you tried lying, the dark tint of pink on your cheeks would say otherwise. "thank you"

with a chuckle, he led you to his car. a model of the year, typical for a rich ass boy like him. being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before closing it as you settled yourself down.

he made his way over to the drivers seat. "can't believe I finally landed a date with you" he mumbled before reaching over to hold your hand in his.

why was he acting like this? it was just a bet.. right?

you stared down at your hands that were now intertwined. you'd expect his to be cold from how pale they were and the amount of time he spends playing hockey in the cold rink.

your eyes lifted to his face, he was focused on the road now, a quiet little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, like just having you next to him was enough.

"im going to be honest, i don't know any of this bands songs."

your breath caught in your throat. "you bought the tickets without knowing how they were?"

he shook his head. "I bought the tickets because I knew you knew who they were." his hand squeezed yours, keeping his eyes on the road. "have I told you how absolutely sexy you are? I mean look at this.." his hand moved from yours to tug at your skirt, making you gasp.

"feel good, baby?" he continued squeezing your thigh, biting his lower lip as he felt the warmth of your skin.

he slapped it playfully, moving his hand onto the steering wheel leaving you flustered.

"pervert.."

the concert was beautiful. the music reached your heart it made you tear up, of course some songs hit close to home. gojo couldn't help but admire you from time to time. watching as your pretty mouth sang along to the unknown lyrics.

"lets take a picture pretty." he said out of nowhere. "a picture?" he nodded before pulling out his phone, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his cheek against yours, snapping a few pictures of you and him throughout the night, mostly of you. you did the same, filling up your gallery with endless pictures and videos.

he pressed his lips on your temple before pulling away to continue enjoying the performance.

as the night came to an end, he drove you safely back home, both of you discussing the songs you enjoyed being performed the most.

"I think I enjoyed back to me the most"

"no way! paranoia was clearly the most enjoyable."

he rolled his eyes. "yeah well I think what I enjoyed the most was seeing you sing. you're gorgeous baby."

"you already told me that like twenty times."

"and ill continue to tell you for the rest of my life and beyond that." his words made your stomach twist. not in a bad way. definitely not. you watched how the dim light lit up his face making him look even more handsome than he already was.

"want to go to the ice rink?" he asked.

'right now? I dont think im wearing the appropriate clothing for skating.."

satoru grinned, pulling up to the building where the arena was in. "good thing I came prepared then." he reached towards the backseat, pulling out a duffel bag.

"you can thank your friend miwa."

you stared down at the clothes, which belonged to you, now on your lap. light pink thighs and a sweater as well as leg warmers. "you guys planned this?"

"she helped me out. I wanted to make this the best first date."

it was late, so the place was quieter than usual, dimly lit, making the place peaceful. the cold air nipped at your cheeks as you both stepped inside, and you tried your best not to show how nervous you were.

"ive never skated before." you admit.

"good thing your man is a hockey player." he finished tying up his laces before getting down on one knee to tie yours. he said it so casually. 'your man'

satoru looked up at you all while he continued fumbling around with the laces on your skates. "I really hope we have that romcom moment where you slip on the ice and fall right into my arms."

"what type of movies are you watching?" you giggled, feeling the heat creep up to your neck.

he finished the second skate, placing it on the ground before gripping your thighs. "like I said.. romcoms." he murmured, bringing you closer to his face. he darted his tongue out to lick the inside of your thigh.

a gasp left your lips. "h-hey.."

he didn't stop there.

he was starved. his lips traveled all throughout your inner thighs, nipping once in a while. "pretty.."

a shaky hand pushed his head away, watching as a string of saliva connected his lips with you. "so uhm.. you gonna teach me how to skate..?"

the fog of tension shattered the moment you placed your hand on his forehead, pushing him away. he licked his lips before chuckling. "yeah, come on."

the second you stepped onto the ice, you were already struggling. it was more slippery than you'd expect it to be, but satoru's large hands, placed on your waist, kept you steady.

"lean on me."

you held onto his arms, following his step wobbling once in a while.

"I got you doll."

twenty minutes was all you needed to learn how to maintain your balance on the ice. you excitedly followed satoru, holding his hand as you both made rounds around the rink, your skates gliding smoothly. he glanced at you, smiling as he watched you. "look at you... natural born skater" just as he said that, you bumped into his shoulder.

"natural born liar."

he chuckled seeing how your eyes showed signs of being tired. he wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up with ease. "lets get you out of here. kind of sad we didn't have that cute moment."

"what cute moment?" you wrapped your arms around him before he placed you down the carpet when he got you both out the ice rink. "the one where you fall right into my arms and we kiss."

you rolled your eyes. "maybe next time."

he raised an eyebrow, kneeling down again to take off your shoes. "so is that a confirmation that we will have another date?"

"mhm." you hummed quietly and before you knew it, you were leaning into a kiss with no control over your body, like it was possessed by a curse or something.

he hesitated for a second, deciding not to kiss you back. it was just a bet.

"lets go."

you stared at him in hurt and betrayal. this is what he wanted wasn't it? you felt your heart sink deeper as the seconds passed. you didn't allow him to put your shoes on, doing it yourself instead.

"baby.."

"dont." your voice wasn't firm, it was soft. barely even a whisper to be honest. "you're just messing with me aren't you?" he looked startled, like he had gotten caught with his hand down the cookie jar, because he did.

"no..no you're not something to play around with."

you were mad. furious even. "feels like it."

opening the door after gathering your clothes, you left without a goodnight. or a kiss. once you were out of view, satoru dragged his hands down his face groaning. he's grown attached to you without knowing it in the span of three days. and he's hurt you by denying your kiss.

he rushed after you.

"let me walk you."

"its fine. my dorm isn't that far."

"damn it y/n." he pressed his lips against yours, cupping your jaw. the kiss was full of frustration and it was desperate. his other hand found your hip, bringing you closer to him. he wanted to deepen the kiss, but he noticed you weren't kissing back.

he pulled away before smashing his lips against yours again, hoping that you'd kiss back this time but you didn't.

"I'll see you later.." you mumbled out.

he watched you walk away quickly in the direction of your dorm. now it was his heart who was sinking. he didn't remember any of his last 'bets' hurting this much.

so why does it feel like you were ripping out his heart right now?

when you reached your dorm, ready to get any call from your brothers, you already planned not to mention anything. not the concert date with satoru and definitely not how yuji was right about him. you couldn't let him have that 'I told you so' moment.

your phone vibrated at the back of your pocket as soon as you dropped your bag onto the floor. miwa was staying over at her boyfriends tonight, giving you and satoru any privacy if things went to a more heated direction.

it did. sorta.

with a sigh, you slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call from yuji.

"took you a while."

you forced a laugh. "sorry, you woke me up." you allowed your body to rest, flopping down on your messy bed with a 'thump', the back of your head sinking into the pillows.

"I'm just calling you to let you know that a hospital bill might reach you."

you quirked an eyebrow, staring at the ceiling. "its going to be sent out to me? all the way to yale?" yuji let out a small 'mhm', casual like he was commenting on the weather.

"yeah, from dad's last check up."

"oh," you rubbed your face, feeling a different kind of tired. "thats right."

"its just from his prescriptions and shit.. I would've paid it myself but.." his voice trailed off.

"no, no dont worry about it. not like i'm already drowning in student loans or whatever"

"of course not." you could hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone.

after the call ended, you let the silence settle. you received your mail usually by the end of the week in your small issued mailbox that was located in the front of the school. most of the time it was just flyers for clubs you had no intention of joining. but soon, a hospital bill that you desperately wanted to leave behind home, where it belongs, will appear right inside the small box.

after dreading to see the ridiculous amount you had to pay for oral chemotherapy medication, your mind circled back to satoru, a finger brushed against your lips, reliving the moment he placed his against yours in a kiss you wanted to return, but didn't.

you felt like it wasn't real.

why would he hesitate in the first place? your hand dropped back down against the mattress, gripping the bed sheets to brace yourself from any tears that might come out.

miwa dragged you to watch kokichi practice in the ice rink. the memories from last night hit you like a wave every other minute you sat on the bleachers. the same spot you were rejected.

you were annoyed.

no. pissed. pissed at how he dodged your kiss like it meant nothing and honestly you have every right to be. because why is he hesitant to kiss you when he’s the one that was so desperate. is this some sort of sick joke?

you didn't want to mention it to miwa or anyone. you were too embarrassed and the poor girl was happy she even had the opportunity to help out satoru with last nights date. you couldn't take that away from her. when she asked how it went you spared the details and just gave a brief summary.

"it was fun, he took me to the concert, we sang. then the ice rink, thanks by the way, and he taught me how to skate."

"thats so cute!" her face lit up.

you both continued to see the hockey players glide across the arena. but someone was missing. number 10. your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a microphone starting.

“can't take my eyes of off you..” a voice murmured into the microphone, a voice you instantly recognized. satoru. you blinked once. and then again-unsure if you were hearing correctly or if the loud ass volume you listen to your music in was finally catching up to you.

you squinted your eyes to see the white haired boy stand right in the middle of the rink, the whole team joining him as well. his body stepped forward, then another, until he broke into a dance. you let out a few chuckles of disbelief as you watched him make a fool of himself.

“i love you baby!” you wanted to crawl into a corner and die from embarrassment. “and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby..” his finger pointed right at you. a few people around you chuckled as well, one yelling, "go verona!"

you brought your hands up to you face covering it in embarrassment as a flush appeared. he was so off key now, yelling out the lyrics as he did little tricks around the ice, nearly slipping but catching himself with a dramatic spin. he made a bee line towards the top of the bleachers. you wanted to escape but he was quick, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“oh pretty baby..” he panted as the chorus died down. he placed the microphone down, grabbing your cheeks without a warning with both hands planting a long and sweet kiss on your plump lips. this time, you kissed back without hesitation from either of you.

"satoru.." you managed to say before he continued his desperate kisses, sliding his tongue into your mouth leaving no room for the words that were swirling in your head. miwa was ecstatic, clapping with others, who were surprised that the ex-playboy was acting straight out of a 2000's movie.

"shut up.. let me just kiss you." his fingers threaded through your hair.

and kisses continued all the way to his dorm, no sign of stopping any time soon as he pushed you down his bed.

"im sorry about yesterday.. let me make it up to you."

"I think you did already with your little performance."

he chuckled, shaking his head. "nah, you need more than a song."

satoru wears everything on his face. like everything. you could tell what he was feeling with just a glimpse at his blushed face that turned from his usual pale color to a deep red. his mouth was open when he sank into you.

he smirked when he watched you struggle to take him. the small moans you let out made him twitch. "you look so fucking good. taking my cock like this." he wrapped your legs around his bare waist before his large hand found your neck, wrapping lightly around it.

"sa..satoru.." you whimpered.

"mmf- yeah that feels good. so.. tight and wet f'me. should've done this yesterday." he rolled his hips against yours gently. satoru has never been this gentle during sex towards anyone. he slid in and out of you slowly, making sure you felt every single one of his veins.

"oh fuck.. not going to last long inside this warm fucking pussy."

he licked your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat. satoru pulled away, forcing your jaw to open to spit right into your mouth.

"swallow."

you obeyed, swallowing his shared spit, opening your mouth to show him.

"good girl."

you screamed, gripping his shoulders when he slipped almost all the way out before slamming all the way in. he was loving this, almost forgetting the amount of money he would receive for getting into your panties.

it wasn't until you both finished, and his arms were wrapped around you in a comfortable position to cuddle, placing loving kisses on your forehead, that he finally remembered that this was all a bet. was.

he was scared that maybe he didn't want this to be just a game. his breath stilled, his fingers still tracing random shapes on your back as he pulled back slightly, taking a close look at your peaceful expression.

he didn't want it to end.

he took a look at his calendar that was placed on his nightstand. he counted the days knowing he didn't have that much left with you.

"love?"

you hummed, opening your eyes, your expression soft, when he called out to you.

"i'm playing tomorrow.. then we're having a sort of 'hoco' type of thing at the frat.. come with me?"

you nodded, placing your head on his chest listening to the way his heart beat at a steady pace. "course.." you murmured, he did tire you out after all. his body relaxed at your answer. there were still so many things left unsaid, so much you both needed to figure out. but he was okay with just having you this close to him right now.

you didn't call your family that night. your phone was put on do not disturb, laying on top of the nightstand. satoru's arms were still wrapped tightly around you.

but across the country, yuji grew worried, because not only were hospital bills going to reach you, but terrible news as well.

he paced back and forth outside the hospital room, the one where your father was currently staying, checking his phone every second to see if you have seen his messages or calls.

nothing from you.

he tried to come up with a reason. you were probably studying, or just busy in general. he wanted to cry because the feeling of being the one now responsible for everything was finally sinking in. he didn't know why your father collapsed. he didn't know if your aunt was on her way to pick up matt from school. and he didn't know when the hell you would answer your phone.

"answer.. please." he prayed.

the next day when you woke up to the sound of shuffling, you were met with several forehead kisses.

"sorry baby, have to go straight to the rink." your eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes adjusting to the morning light. you remembered the game today, and the party as well.

"practice hard.." your morning voice came out groggy, in which he let out a soft laugh.

"ill see you later baby." with that he left.

you looked around, still groggy, seeing the clock on his wall. eleven o clock.

your eyes widened. shit. you were late for class. you threw the blanket off of you, quickly putting on the same clothes from yesterday. when you reached for your panties, you noticed they were ripped. the sudden pain you felt on your stomach was a reminder of your poor decisions from last night.

you slipped on your skirt, praying you wouldn't flash anyone by the time you got to your dorm. after grabbing your bag, you reached for your phone before bolting out of his room.

when you made your way to class, you felt a deep feeling in your gut telling you, no, yelling, that something wasn't okay.

the cold air of the rink hit you the moment you stepped through the doors, crisp and biting against your skin. the faint sound of blades carving across ice echoed through the space, mixed with low shouts and the occasional laughter of teammates mid practice.

miwa was buzzing beside you, excited to see her boyfriend play, and for the party he asked her out to. you caught sight of satoru not that far away talking with a boy with gauges.

"I'll be back: you said to her.

"okay! I'll go grab us some seats then!"

you watched as the blue haired girl quickly made her way up the bleachers, snatching a good spot for the both of you. you approached satoru, ready to scare him as you snuck behind him.

"dude, I'm telling you I fucked her already, pay up." he grumbled.

your entire world stopped for a second. were you hearing correctly? the other boy laughed. "thought you didn't want to take this bet?" his hand reached for his pocket, pulling out his wallet to slip out a few hundred dollar bills.

it all suddenly clicked.

"it's whatever. honestly, she's everything i've wanted in a girl." the boy you thought you could trust accepted the bills into his hand. how could you have thought that this actually meant something. that you actually meant something to satoru.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you stared at him, feeling so many emotions all at once. anger, betrayal, and even denial. your mind was processing what you just heard. you wanted to hear it wasn't real, that he wasn't only after you because of a bet and that he actually likes you. but you knew you were better than that, you couldn't help but connect all the dots. the way he just randomly went up to you? the way he spent so much money on you?

it wasn't fate. it was orchestrated. and you felt stupid for now realizing.

there was horror written all over gojos face. "no baby.. baby listen to me." but you refused, shaking your head. you refused because the following words were going to be the confirmation that you dreaded to hear. without another word, you turned away pushing though the crowd. "y/n!" he shouted, but you didn't turn back. as you made your way down the hall, his hand wrapped around your wrist, "please, PLEASE listen to me!" in which you yanked back.

"it was all a bet huh? and for what? I knew I shouldn't have trusted yo-" you were interrupted by his lips molding against yours. no matter how much you wanted to melt into it, you didn't. your hands landed on his chest, pushing him off you before wiping your lips. the boy stood there, stunned, as his sad blue eyes watched you walk out.

how could he do this to you? after you accepted his dates. after you let him use your body for pleasure. after everything?you felt horrible for leaving miwa alone, but you didn't want to ruin her day. her boyfriend was playing hockey, with satoru.

it was when you pulled out your phone, ready to block him, when you saw the several missed calls from yuji and from your fathers doctor. your heart sank even more. you quickly found a secluded spot.

satoru wanted to follow after you, desperate to fix things. but he couldn't, not with a game he needed to play. but in all honesty he was done playing.

yuji was screaming at you through the phone. his voice was raw. one you haven't heard in years.

"I called you twenty fucking times y/n! all of last night, where the hell were you?!"

you were hyperventilating. the situation sinking in, the one with gojo and the one where your dad was on the brink of death. "with.. with this guy.."

silence.

"with a guy?" he spat. “you were with some guy while dad was- y/n, he’s in critical condition. they had to resuscitate him last night. and im over here wondering that something important was going on with you only to find out you were busy sucking some guy off. was it the guy you told me about?"

"..yeah..but it didn't end well."

"I dont fucking care about that right now. honestly im glad, let this be a lesson. we thought we were gonna lose him. and you were out playing house with some asshole?”

you didn't answer, too busy trying to even breathe. "im sorry... im sorry." yuji didn’t respond right away.

"i already paid half of the shit," his sharp voice continued. "if you could send some money over that would be great. and those bills, have you paid them yet?"

you swallowed hard, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. “o, I… I haven’t had time, yuji,”

“you haven’t had time?” he repeated like the words physically hurt him. there was a long pause. when Yuji spoke again, his voice had softened.

".. just please pay his medication.. my job isn't paying that well."

"I will.." you said quietly. "where is matt?"

"he's with aunt teresa. i'll call you if anything happens again, please answer next time."

you sniffled, wiping your runny nose. "okay. I love you."

click.

the call ended with him not saying those words back. you still had your phone up to your ear, wishing that magically yuji would say it back.

you felt so unwanted

unloved.

you could feel your eyes stinging even more and your throat closing up on you. you felt like you were losing everyone, your father slipping away in a hospital bed miles from here, your brother who had always been your anchor, your voice of reason, now too exhausted to carry you, and satoru.

satoru.

that night your phone was blowing up. call after call, text after text- all from him.

satoru : y/n please.

satoru : call me, return my calls lets talk pretty.

satoru : it was a bet, but believe me when I tell you that I truly love you.

satoru : I love you. say it back baby. please I need you. can't lose you, im sorry love please don't leave..

you remembered when you planned to block him before the call with yuji, your finger hovered over the red block button. but you simply put your phone on dnd and headed to sleep recalling the horrible events of tonight. tear stains were placed on your cheeks, mascara ruined, just like how your life felt.

miwa had tried, she really did. she tried her best to comfort you, but she understood you needed space. the sweet girl provided you with extra blankets as well as water, she even rubbed off the remaining makeup on you.

satoru hasn't felt this horrible since he accidentally flushed down his sisters goldfish back in first grade. but it wasn't the same.

the goldfish didn't hate him. you did.

and he hated himself for how he made you feel. he hated himself for doing this to you. but god was he grateful to have taken on that bet. not for the money, but for you. because of the bet, he met such a wonderful girl who he was completely smitten for. too bad that the girl now hates his guts.

the weather matched how gojo felt. he looked like hell.

his usual outfits was replaced by a simple white t-shirt with sweatpants. the confident boy was now just a regular burnt out college student who looks like he missed out on eight hours of sleep to study for his physics final. he hasn't eaten since yesterday, deciding his body didn't deserve to be rewarded with food.

he made his way to the small mailroom provided for students. his face lit up when he saw you there, not looking so good like him.

"baby."

his voice startled you, making you drop your mail, watching as they scattered all throughout the tile floor.

you crouched down to gather your mail, avoiding his eyes, heart pounding in your chest from too many things at once, his voice, your brother’s call, the reminder of your father, the unbearable guilt, and now him standing here, looking like someone you didn’t know how to love right now.

satoru knelt beside you, brushing your fingers by accident as he helped you collect the envelopes. the moment your skin touched, a sharp breath escaped his lips.

thats when saw it. a bunch of letters from kaiser permamente.

"what's this..?"

you froze, hand curling tighter around the envelope like you could hide it, like you could make it disappear if you just willed it hard enough. but he had already seen.

you stood quickly, clutching the papers to your chest. “it’s nothing.”

“sweetheart…” His tone shifted, serious now. “that’s a hospital.”

"i know, i can read." you shot back.

satoru rose to his feet slowly, eyes still locked on you, his earlier exhaustion now sharpened with concern. “y/n?” His voice cracked. “is everything okay?”

you didn't know how it came to this. but you were hugging him tightly, crying into his chest like he wasn't part of the reason why you were going through it.

308 notes · View notes

peachyggirl · 1 day ago

Text

♡ got wood? - nic love island s7

based on ep 12, black y/n, cussing, kitty kat eating, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, ass slapping lol… repeated words? i’m not a good writer so pls spare me, this turned out a lot longer than intended, NOT PROOFREAD!

you stand next to olandria and huda in a cropped blue flannel with extremely short jean shorts, a furry top and furry boots. you cheer and clap as your couple, nic, goes up. he blows a kiss towards you while he grabs the fake axe.

“which boy is actually pining for someone else?” he reads off. ace hums loudly. nic looks at ace, “target acquired.” he says and shoots ace with the machine. he walks over to the axe to grind station and lays down.

you raise your brows softly meanwhile ace looks at you with an evil grin, “my boy nic, he’s been seeming to be a little excited with… you know, iris coming into the villa. so i think iris would be great, wouldn’t it?”

you laugh softly and nic looks at you, “sorry, baby!” he shouts. you wave him off as iris walks over. you shake your head, watching they do the challenge.

“it wasn’t a pleasant sight but it’s a challenge! i did have to grind on jeremiah so…” you say with a laugh at the confessional.

“okay! would you like to pick a beaver from my basket?” paige asks nic. he looks towards the guys, “i need yalls help.”

“number three, my lord!” taylor says.

“two! two, my lord!” ace says.

nic picks up number two and turns the name tag around, “y/n! come here, beautiful!” he says with a big smile. he walks over and picks you up. you scream and go into the cabin with him.

he shuts the door and puts you down, “hey,” he smirks. you smile softly as he grabs your ass and pulls you closer. his lips connect to yours, slapping your ass softly. he grunts into the kiss while you wrap your arms around his neck.

his tongue enters yours, “all mine,” he growls. you bite his bottom lip when you pull away. nic shakes his head, “come ‘ere,” he mutters. he pulls you back into a very steamy kiss. you hear mainly ace and chelley shouting in the back.

“it sounds nasty in there!” ace shouts. nic pulls away and fixes your hair, “i got you, baby… ready?” he asks. you nod, squealing as he throws you over his shoulder.

you two walk out and everybody shouts, “oh my God!” “oh shit!” “nic gettin some tonight!”

nic flexes and slaps your ass hard after, your feet kick. you roll your eyes and giggle shyly, covering your face. nic daps all the guys up, like a couple of teenagers.

later that night, the tension of the challenge died down and the islanders were all calmed down. you sit with olandria and huda when nic walks over. he smiles at you all, “i’m just gonna…” he grabs your hand softly and lifts you onto your feet.

“steal this girl for a quick chat. don’t miss her too much,” he says to huda and olandria. you wave bye as his arm slithers around your shoulders.

“you look good,” he kisses your temple. you smile, “stop..” you wore a two piece blue and white stripped outfit with white heels and your hair fell onto your shoulders.

you two walk into speakeasy. low red lighting. velvet seats. fake bottles. music plays softly in the speakers. you nod your head, “wow… you know, this place feels a lot warmer when i’m here with you.”

nic furrows his brows and sits next to you, “who else have you’ve been in here with?” he asks gently and twirls your hair. you smile, “chelley.”

he groans, “noo! chelley’s stealing my girl,” he says. you smile sweeter, “be quiet… hey nurse, check my temp. i’m getting a little warmer,” you tease.

nic rests his hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “yeah?” you nod and stare up at him, “lock the door…” you whisper. nic hops up and locks the door, dimming the lights a bit. he sits back down, “i need you.”

“work for it.”

nic holds onto your thighs as your legs are thrown over his shoulders. he stares up at you, your skirt rode up to your waist. he sucks on your bud. hungry.

your head is thrown up, low shallow breaths coming out. nic licks from your hole up to your clit, “you taste so fuckin sweet…” he growls. you tremble as your legs close on his head. he continues to stare at you and spreads your legs apart, “cmon.”

he moans into you, tongue moving in lazy circles around your clit before flattening out and flicking it softly. he lets go of your thighs and drags his hands up to your top. he rubs your nipples through your shirt.

you twitch, “nic!” you say, a little too loud. you cover your mouth quickly. it was overwhelming— wet, hot, messy. his tongue slides down to fuck your hole, then back up, teasing and devouring you.

“been thinkin’ about this since you walked into this villa.”

you finally look back down at him, your fingers claw into the couch, “mm.. nic— oh my gosh… baby!” you squeal softly.

he nods, “that’s right,” he mutters while coming up and rubbing your clit with his thumb. “say my name when you cum on my tongue,” he says before going back down and eating you.

you cum hard, you blacked out for a second. thighs trembling, hips lifting off of the couch as he held you down and kept licking you through it. slow and steady until you were whimpering and twitching.

he finally comes back up, lips wet and face smug. “we have to do this again.”

you sit back up, “i hate you,” with a shy smile.

♡ girls reaction

the next morning, you were sitting at the vanity. fluffing your hair and putting on setting powder. at least, trying to keep your face neutral.

chelley turns to you, “bitch! don’t even try to act all innocent. after you came back from the little chat last night, you were glistening!”

you squeal and cover your face, “stop!”

olandria twists in her chair, her lipliner almost falling out of her hand, “you came back from speakeasy with your legs wobbly!”

you scream and slap the table, “shut up!” you laugh. huda hums, “i heard yall! me and jeremiah were just trying to pass by and we hear moans and whimpering!”

“oh my goodness!” amaya squeals.

“okay.. did he eat it or was he.. folding you?” chelley asks. you smile, “bitch… he was… devouring.”

hannah and iris shout loudly as nic walks in. olandria shushes all of the girls as he walks over, “morning, morning. how are we all?” he asks.

huda smirks, “we good.”

you smile at him while he puts your plate of food down, “here you go, baby,” he says. he kisses you, “hurry up! i wanna see you in that bikini!”

he walks out as amaya screams, “he’s hooked!”

#love island usa #love island season 7 #love island x reader #nic love island #nic x reader #black reader #nic love island x reader #love island fic #woc reader

267 notes · View notes

jinhyun · 2 days ago

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—heart fluttering.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. lee chaeryeong x kim seungmin

genre: fluff, humor, college au, established relationship, slice of life

word count: 4.5k

summary: who would’ve thought that an unattended romance book on your coffee table would lead to a whole argument with your friends about the technicalities of pinning someone up against the wall. good thing your boyfriend was eager to help you reenact such a controversial scene and—not really—prove your point.

a/n: well hello there, it’s been a while hehe. i’m just here to post this story for my mother hen @taikapavunvarsi’s birthday, as i’ve been doing every single year now. couldn’t lose the tradition. i fucked up the time zones for this post and you’re probably sleeping rn, but i still hope you had the greatest of days and got lots of love from your loved ones, you deserve nothing but the best things in life ♡ i also hope that you enjoy this little one shot i wrote for you. i haven’t written at all in like two months so forgive my rustiness. anyway, you said you wanted ‘booktok boyfriend challenge’ and maybe reversed, and also after some digging on my end (aka going all the way up on our chat 💀) i realised that you said ‘the watercolors’ when you sent that video to me, so the watercolors you get. and also it’s not really a tiktok challenge they’re doing in this piece bc i kinda twisted it as always lol but i hope you still like it<3

and well, since i wrote this for the watercolor couple, i thought fuck it i’m posting it here. if anyone else reads it, i hope you all enjoy~

“That’s impossible” Seungmin’s final statement earned a side eye from you, which was nothing compared to the way Chae whipped her head in his direction—just like that, letting him know she was taking full offense in his confident words.

“No, it’s not?!” Chaeryeong beat you to it, just as you were opening your mouth to let out the exact same words.

“Babe, I’m telling you, it’s not possible”.

“Yes, it is!” You backed your friend up this time.

Given the intensity each of your statements carried, any outsider would think you were discussing a life or death situation. Especially after the over dramatic roll of eyes Seungmin gave you after contradicting him.

In reality, what got the three of you so heated up was whether a specific paragraph from the book Cherry was currently reading—and which you had already read and lent it to her in the first place—was actually possible or not.

“Give me the book,” Seungmin asked his girlfriend, holding his palm open for her to comply. Once she did, he traced his index finger under the words as he read them out loud: “He shoved her up against the wall, his height towering over her, and then with one hand pinning both of her wrists above her head”.

“What’s so unrealistic about it?” You wondered when he finished with a rather amused scoff.

“So, he pushes her against the wall, then he towers over her, meaning he’s like, extremely close to her, and then with one hand he grabs both her wrists and pulls them up over her head?”

“I don’t get you…” Chaeryeong frowned, visibly trying to understand her boyfriend’s point.

“Wouldn’t her arms be stiff when he pulls them both up at the same time?” He pointed out. “There wouldn’t be space for him to pull them up, since he needs to hold them together, probably in the middle, and then pull them up. He either should’ve done that before coming closer to her or should’ve used both hands so they could go up from her sides and not from the middle”.

You and Chaeryeong stayed silent, exchanging troubled looks as you simultaneously tried to picture the point he was making and to come up with different ways for the narration to work out.

Truth be told, you didn’t really care that much about the physical technicalities when it came to romance books. As long as you could picture what the writer was trying to portray, even if it wasn’t exactly what they had in mind, you were okay with it.

As long as the words in it made you feel something, you could look past a couple of mistakes.

Seungmin, on the other hand, who had only read that one page when Cherry left the book unattended to go to the restroom a few minutes ago, could not look past the ‘poor’—as he had so dismissively called it—wording of that particular paragraph.

“It doesn’t say that they’re extremely close, though?” You argued. “Maybe there is enough space for him to do that”.

“There isn’t” he was fast to reply.

“How would you know that?” Chaeryeong frowned.

“When us guys shove someone against the wall we instinctively corner them right away, that’s the whole point. You don’t just push them and stand there like an idiot before doing anything else”.

“Oof, speaking from experience now?” You taunted him, laughing proudly when you got flipped off right away. “Maybe this one guy did just stand there for a bit and therefore there was enough space between them”.

Chaeryeong nodded rapidly, strongly agreeing with you before Seungmin shook his head in disagreement.

“It literally says he was towering over her”.

“And the meaning of that is up for interpretation,” his girlfriend argued back once again.

“What’s up for interpretation?” Hyunjin asked, entering the living room holding a big bowl of popcorn, after having excused himself to go make himself a quick snack earlier.

“The paragraph from a book” you answered him.

“The one you lent Cherry?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, for a moment there forgetting you were in the middle of an argument. “Yes. There’s this one line that Seungmin swears is not possible”.

“It’s not, though” Seungmin argued once more, and you knew right then he was now only trying to provoke you and his girlfriend.

The glare you threw his way must’ve been one of a kind, for it had Hyunjin chuckling in a heartbeat.

“I thought you guys were fighting for real from the bits and pieces I heard from the kitchen”.

“Oh, we’re close to” Cherry folded her arms over her chest.

It was funny to think this was what your Friday nights had come to after a year of you dating Hyunjin, and of Cherry dating Seungmin.

With you and Chaeryeong being best friends and also roommates, and the same being Hyunjin and Seungmin’s situation, it was inevitable for the four of you to stick together among your larger group of friends. It was unspoken, even.

Since you and Seungmin were done earlier with your last class on Fridays, you would head over to the dance practice room together, where Chaeryeong and Hyunjin would be, as always, mastering their respective routines. You would wait for them to finish, catch up a bit in the meantime, and then all four of you would head over to either your or their dorm, and just hang out there if you didn’t have any particular couple activities planned out with your respective partners. Usually, it was yours, so you wouldn’t bother Changbin if he happened to be at their place—you had already been called out one too many times for making him fifth wheel.

Today, it was no different.

It was supposed to be a peaceful evening, just chatting in the living room all four of you until it was time for Chae and Seungmin to leave, since they were going to the movies later that night. Although, to be fair, no evening could ever be completely peaceful when both your dramatic boyfriend and her tsundere one were together.

Maybe if Chaeryeong hadn’t left your book on the coffee table the night before, you could’ve accomplished an almost peaceful one, because then Seungmin wouldn’t have caught a glance of it after she left his side and he found himself looking for another eye-catching sight around your place, and maybe then he wouldn’t have read that infamous line that got the three of you arguing like your lives depended on it.

Hyunjin would probably have agreed with Seungmin, had he been in the room with you when all hell broke loose. Their experience pinning people against a wall was probably over half of yours—which was nonexistent—after all. But, he wasn’t there for it. So, your eyes lit up when you looked at him and an idea came to your mind.

Watching him place the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table as he munched on another handful of them, you stood up before he could take a seat next to you like he intended.

“Jinnie, come here” you called him, having him follow you to the wall next to the sofa where you had been sitting. When he was in front of you and his rather confused eyes were silently asking you what you wanted, you said: “Pin me up against the wall”.

And maybe you should’ve known better than to make such a request to him all of a sudden, because next thing you knew, confusion was replaced by lust in the way he looked at you, and his hands on both sides of your hips were pulling you closer to him.

“Here in front of our friends?” He mumbled, smiling against your lips and sending shivers down your spine.

Sadly, he didn’t get to steal a kiss from your mouth like he was dying to. Not because of the giggle that had just escaped it—as you couldn’t help but get shy even after all the times you had kissed in front of your friends and vice versa—but because of the pillow Seungmin didn’t hesitate to throw at his head as soon as he realised what was about to go down in front of them.

“Boo, you hoe!” he called your boyfriend out.

Hyunjin threw his head lightly back, biting his lip as he tried to conceal the amused—yet frustrated—smile already parting his lips. Still, he didn’t hesitate to grab the pillow from off the floor and throw it right back to Minnie.

“So,” Hyunjin began after successfully hitting his friend, pulling you closer to him again. “Do I pin you up against the wall or not?”

“Yes, but not like that” Chaeryeong answered for you, causing a laugh to escape your lips.

“Wait, but don’t tell him how, we’re trying to prove a point here” you reminded them, looking for confirmation from both of them before your eyes went back to your boyfriend. “Just, pin me up against the wall”.

“Like, forcefully or…”

“Um…” you hesitated.

“It does say ‘shove’ against the wall here, so yeah, forcefully” Seungmin said.

“And then pull her hands above her head” Cherry added.

“What the hell are you guys on about?” He frowned, not really knowing whether he should be worried or not.

“Just do it” you laughed.

“Okay, so…” his uncertain eyes fixed on yours, looking for consent to push you against the wall.

With a silent nod, you let him know to go for it. And so, his hands went up to your ribcage, missing your breasts by an inch, and he pushed you to the wall. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you, but just enough for a thud to be heard at the impact.

Before you could process whether you had liked it or not, he was already grabbing your hands and pulling them up above your head.

You found out right then that you did indeed like it. Maybe a little too much. Enough to only focus on his plump lips nearly touching yours, and, therefore, to miss the way he had used both hands to pin yours up.

“Told you!” Seungmin managed to break the sexual tension already taking over the two of you. “You need both hands for that”.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t use only one, though?” You argued, unconsciously resting your hands on Hyunjin’s chest.

“Oh, you wanted me to use only one?” He asked you, then looking at your friends. “I can do that”.

“Let’s see it,” Seungmin said, grabbing the bowl of popcorn and leaning back on the sofa.

“What are you, a judge?” Hyunjin scoffed.

“Oh, hush. Just do it”.

Rolling his eyes, he took a step away from you, so he could reenact the scene right from the start.

This time, however, instead of shoving you up against the wall right away, he grabbed your right wrist and then brought it up to your left one before he pulled them up above your head. It was only when your hands were about to reach the top of your head, that his free hand went up to your waist and he pushed you against the wall—almost as if he’d heard Seungmin’s previous argument—cornering you right away.

It was fair to say, whether he had just proved Seungmin’s point or not, you were enjoying this whole argument way too much.

“See?” Seungmin looked at Chaeryeong with a proud smirk.

“We haven’t seen the way the book describes it yet, though” she refused to give it up, reaching for the book on the coffee table and looking for the controversial paragraph.

“Is this really what our Friday nights have come to?” You asked in utter disbelief.

“I’m not really complaining” Hyunjin confessed—a breathy laugh escaping his mouth as he lovingly bumped your nose with his own.

“I mean, it could be possible,” Seungmin stood up, deliberately ignoring the PDA going on in front of him and walking over to you—watching the reenactment from the couch not being enough anymore. “But it’d be too inconvenient, like, if you’re that close and you hold both wr—”

“You are not shoving my girlfriend up against the wall” Hyunjin warned him when he tried to shove him aside in order to take his place, unconsciously grabbing your hand and pulling you to him.

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I’m not, I’m just trying to make a point here”.

“Go make your point with Chaeryeong over there”.

“Hold on, I’m looking for the line” she absentmindedly replied as she scanned the page.

You snorted, leaning your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder. You didn’t know whether she was unaware or simply unfazed—either of them being just as funny to you.

“Okay, I got it,” Cherry announced, going up to you as well. “So, what you have to do is, shove her up against the wall,” she looked up to Hyunjin, waiting for him to do so—which he did, only gently this time, as the four of you seemed to be more into the technicality of it all rather than into the reenactment. “Tower over her,” she read, and that he did as well, making your heart race when he took it one step further by tilting your chin up with his fingers, so he could lean in to faintly touch your mouth with his lips.

“Keep it professional, dude” Seungmin called him out—justice being made for you when he was the one to get flipped off now by your boyfriend.

“And now,” Chaeryeong resumed. “With one hand, hold both of hers up”.

You knew Seungmin was right—as if the two previous tries hadn’t already been proof enough—when you saw your boyfriend hesitate, only then realising how close he had come to you by simply being told to tower over you.

Hyunjin knew something was off right away, having to take a few seconds to figure out how to pull your hands up in between the little to nonexistent space between your bodies.

In the end, the safest choice was to take a step back in order to do so, coming right back to tower over you as soon as he got your hands pinned to the wall. Just like that, proving that, although possible, it would turn out clumsy enough—not to say ‘inconvenient’, like Seungmin had claimed—to mess with the heat of the moment.

“Told you,” Seungmin smiled proudly once again. “Inconvenient”.

“Whatever” Chaeryeong shrugged, closing the book and carefully throwing it on the couch as she finally admitted defeat. “All I got from this is that you two share the same braincell. Luke clearly left enough space between them”.

“Luke,” he mockingly repeated the character’s name he had just learned. “Was clearly written by a woman who’s never pinned anyone against a wall”.

“And that’s why he’s way better than you two”.

You couldn’t help the throaty laugh that escaped your mouth at her bitter remark. While Seungmin’s jaw fell open, desperately looking for a clap back for that yet coming up with nothing, a quite offended Hyunjin nudged you, for your friend’s insult had involved him too and you were laughing.

Chaeryeong, on the other hand, was unable to hold back a laugh of her own at the sight of her baffled boyfriend—pulling the now pouty guy into a hug. “Okay, I’m sorry” she apologised with a peck to his lips, knowing she was forgiven when his hands rested on her waist and his thumbs drew small circles on it. “But, honestly, just read the damn book and you’ll get why we don’t really care about technicalities”.

“If it’s so good they’ll probably make a movie of it, so I’ll just wait for that” he smiled cynically.

Chaeryeong rolled her eyes with a smile, only for it to be erased the next second when realisation hit her. “Wait, the movie!”

Seungmin’s face was quick to match her panicked one.

Being too immersed in the rather entertaining argument, neither of them had remembered the movie they had got tickets for earlier that week, and which they should’ve left for a while ago now.

“Shit, what time is it?” Seungmin asked, rushing to get his things.

“Eight thirty” Hyunjin let him know as he checked his phone.

“Fuck, we only have fifteen minutes”.

“Let’s go” Cherry hurried him up, putting on her shoes and grabbing her coat by the entrance.

“Coming” Seungmin announced from the couch, shoving his phone into his pocket and running to put on his shoes as well, as Chaeryeong held the door open while waiting for him. “Okay, see you guys later, bye!”

Chuckling over the entire situation after hearing them slam the door shut, and feeling the silence take over the room now that your friends were gone, you looked up to Hyunjin. Although the both of you were resting your backs against the wall now, as he had leaned on it in order to watch your friends rushing out of your place, he didn’t waste another second to corner you again—getting the perfect opportunity to tilt your chin up and to finally press his mouth to yours, like he had been dying to ever since you asked him to pin you up against the wall earlier that night.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his own snaked around your waist, pulling you so close to his body that you found yourself laughing breathily at the lack of oxygen you were getting after a few seconds.

“So those are the kind of books you’re always reading?” He smirked over your lips, slightly loosening his hold on you—just enough for you to catch your breath.

“God forbid a girl wants to read some heart fluttering stories” you couldn’t help but sound defensive, gently letting your palms slide down to his chest.

He chuckled, gently nuzzling your neck. “I’m not shaming you or anything, it’s just interesting”.

“What is?”

“That those kinds of things make your heart flutter”.

“Those kinds of things?” You asked.

“Pinning you up against the wall?” He cocked a teasing eyebrow.

“As if you didn’t know that already” you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t” he chuckled, teasingly pinching your sides before he pulled you closer and kissed you once more.

Sure, he had pinned you up against the wall a couple of times—maybe more than a couple in the time you had been together—but never forcefully, or at least not enough to make the impact of your body against it to actually make a sound, like it had today.

He had only now discovered that you enjoyed it. And he was surely loving this newfound liking of yours.

“If you ever got pinned up against a wall like that, you’d get the hype” you defended yourself.

“Well, you could always show me” he shrugged, unable to hide the smirk that was already curving up his lips.

“Me?”

“Aren’t you my girlfriend? Who else would pin me up against a wall if not you?”

“The height difference won’t help, though”.

“I’ll cooperate” he promised, earning a light laugh from you. “You need to do the whole thing, though. I want my arms pinned above my head and all”.

“You’re delusional,” you laughed.

“For knowing what I want?” He said over dramatically.

“Ah, what did I get myself into” you amusedly lamented, but gave in regardless.

Letting go of each other and switching sides, being now him the one turning his back to the wall while you faced him, you couldn’t help but hesitate, just like he had done before pushing you for the first time.

Turned out, it was actually mind wrecking not knowing how much force to put into shoving the person you loved in order not to hurt them. Not like you could actually push him that hard if you wanted, but still.

“I’m waiting~” he teased you.

At that, knowing well enough he would tease you even harder if you took any longer, you just pushed him without a second thought—only to panic as soon as you heard his back hit the wall.

“Was that okay?” You asked him right away.

He dramatically clutched his chest. “My heart’s nearly beating out of my chest”.

“Oh, shut up” you rolled your eyes, deciding to just get it over with and grab both his wrists in order to pull them above his head.

Since you had already pushed him and there was enough space between the two of you, given that you forgot to corner him against the wall right after—you could almost hear Seungmin calling you an idiot—your stubbornness told you to only use one hand to do so.

Now, the problem was, that you forgot how big Hyunjin’s hands actually were, and therefore why it was so easy for him to grab both your wrists with only one of them—as opposed to you, who were already struggling with the task.

Hyunjin was enjoying it one hell of a lot, though. He couldn’t hold back a giggle as he watched you struggle for a few seconds to secure his wrists in your hand, and then he completely lost it when you finally managed to pull them up over his head, only for you not to be able to reach all the way up and just leave them hanging there midway.

“Yah, you said you’d cooperate!” You whined.

“I’m slouching, I’m slouching” he defended himself in between laughs as he did so.

However, hearing your laugh only made him laugh harder, to the point he gave up on slouching at all and ended up kneeling down instead, letting his face rest on your abdomen and holding onto the curve of your back as he looked for some kind of support.

“You’re so annoying” you half laughed, half whined again; trying to help him stand back up.

“You’re so cute,” he cooed.

Letting out one last throaty laugh and finally managing to catch his breath, he let you help him up, smiling lovingly when you cupped his face and wiped the tears of joy that had rolled down his cheeks.

“So, pinning you up against the wall is a no-go to make your heart flutter” you nodded your head.

“It did flutter though, but just because you’re too adorable and I love you” he admitted, and it was your heart the one to flutter at that.

“What can I do to truly make your heart go all mushy then?”

“Honestly?” He asked.

You nodded.

“I love it when you play with my hair”.

You smiled, as it was no news. He had been very vocal about it after the first time you played with his hair while you cuddled on his couch, even way before being a couple.

It was always nice to hear how much he actually loved it, though.

“I was thinking more of a book-ish thing to do…” you confessed.

“Book-ish?” He poked fun at you.

“Yeah, you know, cliché things characters in romance books do” you looked around as you tried to think of something. “Like when they grab your face and make you look at them when you’re not paying attention, like—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he was already grabbing your chin and making you look up at him.

“Like this?” He mumbled against your lips.

You felt your cheeks burn embarrassingly fast, having to look to the side in a poor attempt to play it cool—only to have him playfully make you look at him again.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you warned him, unknowingly making his heart race at the sound of the lower register you had just used.

“Yes, baby?”

“You’re not supposed to make me flustered, I was about to make a move there”.

He laughed under his breath. “Let’s be honest now, if you were to do that right now, with us standing up, I’d probably just end up looking to the wall”.

Your jaw fell open in full offense. “If I grab your face and turn it in my direction, you’re supposed to look at me even if I’m shorter than you. It’s common courtesy”.

“You’re the one manhandling me, you’re supposed to make me look at you”.

“And that’s what—I give up” you held your hands up in defeat. “I could never be the man of this relationship”.

“Good,” he said, grabbing your waist and turning both of you around, so that he was once again the one cornering you against the wall and leaning down so close to you that you could feel your breathings mix. “Just leave the manhandling to me, hm?”

You bit your lip, in a hopeless attempt to conceal the smile already curving up your lips. He chuckled against your mouth, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to it.

You would be a fool to turn down his offer.

“I want to make your heart flutter too, though” you pouted nevertheless.

“And you always do that without even trying”.

“I do?”

“Mhm…” he lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said, when you play with my hair, or when you lean your head on my shoulder, also when you call me baby… when you use that lower tone of yours to talk to me, and when you doodle literally anything while we talk and then gift it to me…” his eyes softened at the memories. “Do I keep going?”

You softly shook your head no—your heart already feeling warm enough because of his words. “I believe that’s good en—”

“Oh, I love it when you wear my clothes!” He cut you off, eyes lighting up over the sudden train of thought. “Fuck, especially when you only wear one of my t-shirts to sleep and I get to admire your pretty thighs while you walk around my room”.

You chuckled at his last addition, feeling your cheeks burn all over again. “You’re getting a bit carried away now, aren’t you, baby?”

He bit his lip, remaining silent yet not finding it in him to feel the least bit embarrassed. You were all his after all, he was allowed to admire your beauty in all its splendor and gush about it all he wanted.

“I’ll make sure to do all that more often then” you quietly added with a smile, reaching up to sweetly catch his bottom lip in between yours.

“There are a few of my t-shirts in your closet, so how about doing that one now?” He proposed, temptingly brushing his lips against yours.

“If that’s what it takes to make your heart flutter…” you quietly taunted him.

He agreed with a small nod, pressing his lips to yours and teasingly grabbing a hold of your wrists. “I’ll make sure yours does too by pinning you up against your bedroom wall while we’re at it”.

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thissying · 3 days ago

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Jimmy Broadbent in the Road to Succes Podcast, about Max participating in The Race for Mental Health

"We know Max is literally all about the racing and he puts racing in front of everything but he actually participated in an event that meant a lot to you. How did that happen?"

"We run an event called The Race for Mental Health and I think we had our sixth year of it last year and the whole idea is to raise money for MIND, the mental health charity. Because, as I've spoken about today, I had my own challenges for a while and a lot of people do. And I think a lot of people don't talk about them. So it's a good thing, maybe a little instigator for people to realise that: yeah, it's okay to talk about these things. And, not the race that just went but the year before, Max basically stealth entered with his team. We had no idea he was coming until I was on the circuit and saw: Max Verstappen. Oh! And he was in the car that I knew he would drive. It was with his team, basically. And he came in, donated a ton of money and raced, had fun and then left.

*whisper* "How much money did he donate, Jimmy?"

"Well, I mean, like… I think it's been in the five figures he's donated each time, something like that. And then this year, I sent a message. I said: do you mind if I-- I know you're doing it. Do you mind if I say you're doing it? Because it's gonna help bring people in and like, I wouldn't usually-- I think it must be so tough having such a profile that you can't just turn up and do something you wanna do. So I thought: I'll give you the option, I'm not gonna do it without your permission. He said yes. Which is good for us so we could advertise the event more and it turned out to be our biggest event in terms of money we'd ever raised. I think it was just shy of a 100k we raised. And again, Max donated over 10k, I think, for the penalty system. He took part in it, was a good sport. I mean… He's just a guy who loves racing."

#f1 #max verstappen #jimmy broadbent #my post #max lore

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rafeslvbug · 2 days ago

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introducing…conservationist!rafe && scared!reader

back to basics!! (looks!!)

height: 6”2, friendly type of height, tall enough to deal with all sorts of animals who get into high spots; and always willing to grab equipment for his employees

build: lean. not overly muscular, though they’re definitely there. biceps big enough to trap your head under…or a little lion’s. always climbing up trees to pry the stubborn monkeys out of them.

age: mid to late twenties, but the maturity of a man much older. doesn’t look a day over twenty, though, clean shaven and neatly combed hair, though you love when it gets all soft and gives him that boyish look.

glasses: wore contacts the first time you met him. wore them when handling animals, rarely wore his glasses because he disliked the look of them. first time you saw them and melted? had them on. always. had to claw it back from a monkey after it snatched it off his nose.

clothes: t-shirts that stretch over his biceps, unaware of the amount of ladies he gets drooling over him. basic, unbuttoned shirts, sleeves rolled up to his forearms over a white tank. cargo pants/shorts, same mountain boots. and watch where a non venomous snake tried to sink it’s fangs into the leather.

personality

caring: the most gentle soul to exist. cares for the environment and animals, devoting his life to them..and you. soft words and touches, playful and considerate. no argument ends in tears on his watch, will forever help you overcome your fears and make sure you’re okay.

optimistic: no challenge is too hard for him, or impossible. if you’re scared of animals, he’ll help you through it. if a species is going extinct, he’ll do all his research and see what he can do. he’ll care for every sick animal in his conservation, even when times get rough. rare to see him without a lingering smile on his mouth.

adventurous: loves travelling to countries like kenya, or india, places where he can discover more. enjoys learning to befriend ‘deadly’ animals, loves the thrill, even when it borders dangerous, and you have to reel him back. who would he be without this?

confident: people on kildare don’t quite get why the projected business shark, somehow turned into a shark tamer. it’s still a business, an amazing one at that– though rafe claims it’s not the for the money he makes a ton of it– but it’s not in economics like they all thought. nonetheless, rafe doesn’t care for their judgement. he’s confident and assured in what he does because it makes him happy.

dislikes/likes

suits, and uncomfortable clothing. loves freedom, hates stiff fabric that restricts his movement.

conspiracy theorists who think climate change is fake. take one look at the animals he cares for day to day, he’ll disprove them.

mixed breeders or petting zoos that care about aesthetics rather than safety. hates advertisement off suffering. he invites people to his conservation, but charges nothing, only a voluntary donation.

loves his sloth. calm and lazy, carefree in a way he aspires to be. always happy to see him. had him for years.

when you go out of your comfort zone for him and discover something new that actually makes you happy. loves seeing you embrace a new side of life.

trips, like safaris for documentation and exploration. adores getting to see new animals, or save new animals. loves bringing you along too, taking pictures on his camera of both the animals, and what he loves most- you, of course.

family && people-specific hcs

pet names for you: carebear, dovie, pup, baby, dolly

– willing to piggy back you off whatever tree you climbed to escape an animal that wouldn’t even harm you, especially after the prospect of a million little bugs on the bark makes you want to jump off the tree

– sits you on his lap, and tightly holds you while he tries and gets you used to spiders. hand under yours, 8-legged creature crawling over your palm while you fight the urge to squirm away.

sarah: forever close to his sister who shares his passion for saving animals too

– would definitely have a conservation area for the turtles she saved at the beach, preparing them for release back into the ocean

– sarah would probably be a climate activist, who’d partner up with rafe, organise peaceful protests and promote conservations..like her brother’s.

(yap: posting this gorgeous baby. my favourite au, he’s such a sweetie)

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @supasolaa @octoberbxbyy @rafeobx @jamesbeaufortismylife @vanessa-rafesgirl @bambigirl10 @f4sh10n-m4v3n @amelialovesrafe @letstryagaintomorrow @athenabarnes @dumbbandpoetic

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kurizz · 3 days ago

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Pink Poly Club (miromabby) Part 2

click for part 1

Summary: Mira had a solo interview—at least, that’s what she thought. But right when it started, two pink-haired boys showed up and joined in. What was meant to be calm quickly turned into a chaotic interview with all three of them. No one knew what was going to happen next.

Word Count: 1250

a/n: im bad w titles and posting. lets just say this is part two even though there's no significant connection between the first fic i posted.

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

“What do you think of the ship MiRomAbby?” the host asked Mira.

With a forced smile, she looked at the camera. “I think our fans are creative, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

The audience let out a chorus of disappointed “Aww”s and suspicious “Hmm”s, some clearly thinking she was lying. She wasn’t though.

“Is that so?” the host asked. He stood up and turned to face the crowd. The studio lights were blinding, but his smile was even brighter—like he had something up his sleeve. “Actually, we have surprise guests today. Would you like to meet them now, folks?”

Mira’s brows furrowed. She sat up straight. She hadn’t been informed of this.

“LET US ALL CHEER for Romance and Abby of Saja Boys!”

The crowd went wild—but Mira’s heart went wilder.

What? They’re here?!

No one told her. No one warned her.

Fans squealed and chanted as the boys made their entrance, the guys had their eyes immediately locked in on her. Their smiles teased with a sweet charm that made the air a little warmer.

She averted her gaze, ignoring the weird tingling feeling in her chest. Stop it, Mira.

They waved at the crowd like boy band royalty, soaking in the cheers of the people. Mira didn’t move. She was trying to compose herself.

They took their respective seats on either side of her. She noticed how they were always like this, keeping her in the middle. It was like this during their fansign event, and it's the same now.

Mira tried to play it cool, but the host had other ideas.

“So, who confessed first? Was it Mira?”

She was visibly taken aback, “As if! Nobody confessed anything—”

“Yet.” Abby cut her off playfully.

The crowd was loving this. Mira, not so much.

“I’ve asked Mira. About time we hear your answers too.” The smug look on the host’s face was irritating. “What do you think of MiRomAbby?”

“Oh, we heard there were rumors,” Romance stated, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. “And we thought, why not confirm everything?”

“What?” Mira whipped her head in his direction. He met her gaze with a sweetly masked innocence.

Abby nodded, “Yeah. Like, confirm that we’re all just friends…with really good chemistry.”

The host cackled, clearly thriving. “So no truth to the MiRomAbby ship?”

Romance lazily leaned in. “I mean, unless Mira wants to change her answer.”

“I don’t.” Mira blinked, her response quick.

“You sound so sure.” Abby chuckled in amusement. It was close to her ear, making her shift in her seat.

“Because I am sure.” her gaze sharp and challenging.

The host clapped his hands together, bringing the attention back to him. “Alright, time for a little fun. We’ve got some stuff prepared that were highly requested—”

Mira huffed. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“—from your fans.” The host grinned. “Let’s start off with a classic: the heart monitor game!”

Some staff emerged from the sidelines to stick the sensor patches onto them. Their heart rates appeared on the big screen for everyone to see. Mira’s was already elevated, while the boys’ were on the lower side.

“Seems like someone’s a little nervous…” Romance teased, his voice smooth and low.

Mira took a deep breath. “It’s because I’m annoyed. That’s all.”

His brow quirked upwards, a small grin playing on his lips. Ugh, why is she even looking at him?

“And now it’s time for some Truth or Dare.” The host barely let the tension settle. “This one comes from sajaxhuntrix4ever. They said: ‘I dare you to hold hands for 10 minutes. If you let go, you’ll have to redo. P.S. We love you and support pink poly!’”

Mira’s blood ran cold. The cheers were deafening.

“Now that’s one way to start the game,” the host laughed. “Alright then, the timer starts once you hold hands.”

Abby offered his hand to her, head slightly tilted, eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “Whenever you’re ready, Mira.”

He said her name slowly, like he was enjoying the sound of it on his mouth. Her heart was already thudding in her chest. She glanced up at the screen and saw the BPM number climbing higher. No. Calm down.

With an abrupt motion, she grabbed both their hands without another thought. Let’s get this over with.

The timer began.

Romance shifted into a more comfortable position and casually readjusted his hold on her. He slid his warm fingers between hers, lacing them together with a satisfied hum. Mira chose to ignore it.

“Okay, next one is from the user supremecolorpink. They asked: ‘Why can’t you just date? Don’t worry, we support you!’”

Mira sighed. “I appreciate all the support, but it’s simply because I’m not… interested.”

That slight hesitation. What happened to being sure, Mira?

“That's not a very nice joke,” Abby teased, bringing their intertwined hands on his chest with a sly smile. “Not even a spark of interest?”

Yeah, no, I'm definitely not interested...right..?

She could feel the warmth of his chest seeping into the back of her hand. Her throat suddenly felt dry, “Enough. Next.”

“Between Romance and Abby, who do you like more?”

The two boys exchanged glances.

“None.” Mira was quick with it, her eyes shut tight with restraint.

More ridiculous questions followed, and somehow, she managed to get through them. When does this end?

The host chuckled before he read the next card. Upon reading, his eyes widened a fraction. “Ah, finally, another dare—and it’s a fan favorite: the Pepero Game!”

The room erupted in cheers of excitement, but it was nothing compared to the pounding in Mira’s chest. No, not like this.

The host took notice and didn't miss a beat.

“Well, would you look at that? Someone’s excited.”

Excited?

Mira looked to her left, as if trying to hide her face from the crowd. Things were starting to feel uncomfortable, and her shoulders grew tense. She didn't like this. She wanted to make the fans happy but not at the expense of her own. The room now feels suffocating.

Suddenly, she felt gentle, comforting rubs on both her hands, like it was trying to help her relax. She slowly glanced down at one hand, then the other—then up at their faces. They weren't even looking at her but their thumbs were rubbing soft soothing circles on her hands.

“Alright, Mira, you’ll need to choose a partner—” the host began, already scanning between Romance and Abby with a grin.

But before he could finish, Abby raised his free hand with a chuckle, “Actually, I think we’re overdue for a water break. I might pass out.”

A few people laughed from the crowd. Some were concerned.

Romance nodded, grinning. “Yeah, I’m thirsty too.”

“Oh look, the timer’s up. We can let go now.” he added.

Romance and Abby gently released Mira’s hands. She blinked, still trying to process the sudden shift. They removed the sensor patch from Mira's body, both their eyes fixed on her face.

“You’re thirsty too, right, Mira?” Abby asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“Come on, let’s go.”

That’s when they led her backstage.

Minutes later, a staff member whispered to the host that the three idols had slipped away, mentioning something about an emergency.

Whispers began to swirl instantly. Fans speculated wildly, their phones lighting up with theories and guesses. Had they ditched the show?

The buzz didn’t die down for the rest of the night.

________

click for part 3

it's so embarassing that i dont know how to use this thing </3 i feel like a grandma but im not that old i swear (or maybe i am) im just not a tumblr typa gal. dont laugh at me or maybe do, as long as it makes u happy. you can suggest stuff so it would help me have ideas. like, be it fluffy, angsty, or spicy. just a teeny bit spicy, like this tho 🤏🏻 nothing too crazy unless… i didnt say ill be writing them all so dont keep your hopes up. if you say please then maybe i would reconsider 😮‍💨

@suzieq1948374 @hillyj579

#kpop demon hunters #miromabby #romance x mira x abby #mira x abby #mira x romance #romance x abby #saja boys #huntrix #fanfic

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hexagon-club · 2 days ago

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I don't want to attack all bisexuals here, because I know they have their own shit to deal with, because people (well, mostly men, but unfortunately some women too) view bisexuality as an inherent lack of boundaries in the same way that they view homosexuality as a challenge to be conquered. But there is a particular type of liberal bisexual that is, I think, unironically the most homophobic sort of person alive. To be fair, I'm not sure I'm even arguing with a bisexual here, a lot of tumblr's userbase is made of heterosexual virgins whose concept of sex is purely theoretical. So they end up with extremely bizarre takes about how they think sex and sexual attraction works.

The thing that pisses me off the most about this sort of progressive homophobia is the dishonest doublespeak of it all. It's so much harder to deal with than the more traditional homophobia you get from conservatives. Because you have to gradually unpack what they are saying and gradually define your terms in this incredibly tedious game where you have to gradually peel off the progressive veneer so you can expose the homophobia underneath.

There's also this thing where they love antagonising homosexuals and feminists completely unprovoked. And then acting like the victims when the groups they provoked fight back. It's all a game to them, they know that they can take their stupid pronoun badges off and stop "identifying as" whenever they want. But those of us whose oppression isn't caused by being part of an opt in identity can't do that. And they like to mock people who actually take things seriously because they think we're being stupid for not doing this just for the fun of it.

The whole thing reminds me of this Sartre quote:

He was specifically talking about Nazis here, though people of gender do the same thing. Which is ironic since they like calling people Nazis over the slightest thing. It's a sign of people who adopt relativistic/subjectivist philosophies. They can't defend their beliefs through logic, the way you would a more traditional belief system. Because their beliefs aren't based on actual physical reality. But they don't really care. It's about power, if you can win through disconcerting your enemy and burying them under more nonsense than they have the capacity to rebut, that's as much of a victory in their eyes as beating them through sound reason.

The concept that trans men are trying to “turn gay men straight” is so funny to me because I’ve made about four “straight” guys realize they’re into men

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iydiamartinx · 8 hours ago

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A STUDY OF RIVALS

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune word count: 4.7k synopsis: Damian meets his rival but perhaps he doesn't hate her as much as he thought. a/n: This one took forever!

Damian Wayne was infuriatingly brilliant.

But even more infuriating? So were you.

From the moment you stepped through the wrought-iron gates of Gotham Academy, you were a headline. The only daughter of your mother—billionaire philanthropist and formidable tech magnate—you had been raised in private academies scattered across Europe and Asia, groomed for excellence in spotless marble halls and classrooms with vaulted ceilings. You returned to Gotham only when your mother decided it was time to come home, bringing her empire and her heir with her.

You arrived polished and composed. Impossibly articulate for someone your age. And intelligent—almost scarily so.

The paparazzi did anything to get a photo of you and your mother

Despite transferring half way through the school year at Gotham Academy the prestigious school was more than happy to take you in. By first period, your name was already on everyone’s lips. Teachers adored you and students all wanted to be your friend. They whispered about your legacy. Your net worth. Your wardrobe. Your private driver. You were the closest thing to royalty Gotham had since the Waynes.

At first Damian didn’t bother to pay attention, you were just another socialite in designer shoes. However, that changed by second period when you dared to challenge him in literature class.

The teacher had called on Damian, who, without looking up from his annotated copy of The Raven, delivered a perfectly adequate—if not slightly bored—analysis of Poe’s narrative technique. He’d spent enough time reading Jason’s battered paperbacks to be familiar with Poe’s rhythm.

That should've been the end of it but then you spoke up.

“I actually disagree,” you said, your voice calm and clear for someone your age. There was no malice or the intent to belittle—just the unwavering tone of someone who had never once been taught to doubt herself. “I think the narrator’s unreliability was intentional. Poe used it to emphasize the descent into madness, not obscure it.”

The room had gone quiet. Even the teacher blinked, caught off guard by your boldness. No one ever dared to disagree with Damian, usually because he was always right, or because they were terrified of the consequences that would come from doing such a thing.

Damian turned in his seat slowly, regarding you like a hawk sizing up competition.

Your eyes met his calmly.

He stared back, impassive. “It wasn’t meant to obscure, no. But emphasizing madness through unreliability can still hinder clarity of narrative. The reader is left unanchored—intentionally.”

You tilted your head slightly. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? Poe wanted us to feel disoriented. He wasn’t just telling us the character was unraveling. He was making us experience it.”

From the back of the classroom, someone muttered under their breath, “Uh oh.”

The teacher cleared his throat, clearly unsure whether to intervene or just let the exchange continue. “Excellent… insight,” he offered cautiously, glancing between the two of you like a man tiptoeing through a minefield. “Both of you. Let’s move on, shall we?”

But you and Damian didn’t move on.

From that moment on, it was war.

The rivalry began innocently enough—almost imperceptibly at first.

He completed a pop quiz in twelve minutes. You finished it in ten.

He aced the physics lab. You beat him in algebra.

He turned in an essay on ancient warfare quoting The Art of War. You cited Thucydides, pointed out a flaw in his argument, and corrected his citation aloud when it came to peer editing them.

By the end of the week, you’d tied his calculus score. By the next, your name appeared beneath his on the school’s academic leaderboard. Only one point behind. The following Monday, it was on top.

Damian hadn’t lost a ranking since he started at Gotham Academy.

“Tt,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the board.

“She’s impressive,” one of the teachers had said offhandedly. “Such a brilliant student. She reminds me of you, Mr. Wayne.”

Damian had scowled. You were not like him. There was no one like him, he had been raised to surpass excellence—to conquer it. Trained since birth by the League of Assassins, tutored by the world’s brightest minds, fluent in four languages by age six. He had Sun Tzu memorized before most children learned to read. And you? You were just some rich girl in a perfectly pressed uniforms.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t figure out what you’d done to earn his scorn—but his snide remarks and condescending tone had begun to gnaw at you. Irritating you to the point you made it a personal mission to beat him at everything.

One afternoon, after an especially gruelling debate in History, the two of you were called to stay behind. The teacher then turned to face you both with a look that fell somewhere between exasperation and reluctant pride.

“I’ve never had two students correct me in the same breath,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re both brilliant, but maybe next time let me finish the sentence before starting a turf war over Napoleon.”

You cast a sideways glance at Damian, only to find that he was already looking at you.

His sharp green eyes narrowed slightly. You looked away, lifting your chin and straightening your shoulders as you turned your gaze back to the teacher. You weren’t about to be caught admiring his infuriatingly handsome self.

Once you two were dismissed, he turned to you in the nearly empty hallway, brushing nonexistent dust off his blazer.

“You know,” he started, voice dry, “you talk too much for someone who’s wrong half the time.”

Your eyes narrow. “Funny. I was about to say the same about you.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and stalked away—head held high, heels clicking, and more than ready for a Damian-free weekend.

Only… that wasn’t the case.

Not even twenty-four hours after your latest victory in the history debate, you found yourself being pulled from the backseat of your town car in front of Gotham’s most exclusive ballroom. Cameras flashed. Paparazzi shouted your mother’s name and yours. Your jaw locked the moment you stepped out, heels clicking sharply against the marble as you followed her up the steps.

“This is a waste of time,” you muttered under your breath, gaze fixed ahead.

“Nonsense,” your mother replied without so much as a glance over her shoulder, her tone breezy and clipped, laced with that ever-present note of amusement. “A little public goodwill never hurt anyone. Besides, it’s good to make connections. One day, you’ll take over my legacy.”

Inside, the venue glittered. Filled with polished chandeliers, soft golden lighting, and murmured laughter. Gotham’s elite mingled beneath banners for children’s hospitals and tech-forward philanthropy. Champagne flutes sparkled between manicured fingers. A string quartet played something classic in the corner. And you stayed precisely half a step behind your mother as she navigated the room like a queen surveying her court.

At some point, you stopped paying attention.

Your mother flitted between conversations with years of practiced charm. Making the rounds as she talked to important investors and socialites. It wasn’t until she said your name that you blinked back to the present.

“Y/N.”

You looked up. Both your mother and a tall, dark-haired man were watching you expectantly.

“Bruce, this is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said smoothly. “Honey, this is Bruce Wayne.”

The name instantly grabbed your attention. You knew who he was, of course. Everyone did.

Bruce Wayne offered you a hand and an easy smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard impressive things.”

You returned the gesture with one of your own—polite but not quite warm. “Likewise, Mr. Wayne.”

His eyes, though friendly, were sharp—like he saw more than he let on. You recognized the look. You’d seen it in boardrooms, in interviews, in your mother’s own reflection when she touched up her lipstick before a negotiation. It was the look of someone sizing you up—measuring your potential.

“My youngest son is about your age,” Bruce commented casually. “Perhaps you know him—Damian?”

Before you could respond, the devil himself materialized like he’d been summoned by name. “Father—”

“Ah, Damian, we were just talking about you!” Bruce said, his entire expression shifting as he reached to pull his son closer with a fondness that Damian met with stiff resistance. “This is Ms. L/N,” he added, gesturing to your mother, “and this is her daughter, Y/N.”

Damian’s sharp green eyes landed on you, his mouth tightening ever so slightly. “Yes. We share classes.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” your mother said smoothly, her voice laced with that signature diplomatic charm—the kind designed to make people feel flattered, even when they weren’t. “She’s spoken so highly of her classmates. I’m glad to know she’s surrounded by such… driven young people.”

You caught the subtle pause. Driven, not kind. Not friendly. Your mother had no patience for meaningless social niceties. She reserved her praise for those she deemed worthy, and the way she was now sizing up Damian said it all. Just like Bruce had done with you, she was assessing Damian with the same calculating precision she used on CEOs across glossy conference tables—because like you, he was a legacy.

“Likewise,” Damian said smoothly, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed any sincerity. “Y/N is… competent.”

You turned to him slowly, one brow arched. “Just competent?” you echoed, voice as sweet as honey, but the edge beneath it was razor-sharp. “Funny. I seem to recall consistently scoring higher than you on every major assessment.”

He scoffed. “Then perhaps your memory is askew.”

Bruce let out an awkward chuckle, and your mother’s brow lifted in amusement as the tension between you and Damian practically crackled.

“It seems our children have a bit of healthy competition,” Bruce remarked lightly, though his eyes flicked to Damian warningly but also filled with new understanding. So that was the reason for the sudden uptick in academic ambition. Before you, Bruce had to practically hunt him down and threaten to ban him from patrol to get him to go to school. “You’ll have to forgive him. Manners are still a work in progress.”

“I don’t know,” your mother mused, taking a slow sip of her champagne. “He reminds me a bit of you when you were younger. All sharp eyes and sharper opinions.”

“Mother,” you warned under your breath.

“Oh, come now,” she said with a smirk, eyes glinting. “I’m simply saying it’s nice to see you have a rival to keep you on your toes. Bruce and I were much the same in our youth. It’s good for you.”

Something unspoken passed between them, buried under years of power and poise. They stood too close for it to be entirely innocent, their glances too measured, their silences filled with unspoken words. You weren’t sure if you wanted to roll your eyes, gag, or start backing away before things got weird or well…weirder.

“Well,” Bruce said at last, raising his glass in your mother’s direction, “I’m glad they’re getting along... sort of.”

Damian let out a scoff beside you.

“Mmm,” your mother hummed, clinking her glass to his with a knowing smile. “Let’s just hope they’re nothing like us in our youth.”

You finally chose option three—and it seemed so did Damian.

Without a word, the two of you turned on your heels and made a clean, silent escape. You didn’t need to say anything. The moment your mother started reminiscing about her and Bruce’s youth—with that knowing look in her eyes—you knew it was time to evacuate.

You didn’t so much as glance his way as you moved, but you could feel him beside you, the stiffness in his posture betraying his quiet irritation.

The ballroom opened into a quieter hallway off to the side, lined with towering windows and heavy velvet drapes that muffled the noise from the main event. It was cooler here, the lighting softer, almost reverent. You paused near one of the window alcoves and plucked a glass of water from a tray left on a pedestal, the crystal catching the dim light as you took a slow sip.

Damian stopped beside you, arms crossed, jaw tight. “Does your mother and my father know they’re insufferable?”

You took another sip before replying. “I don’t think they care.”

He gave a soundless huff of agreement, eyes scanning the crowd judgmentally. “How long do you think they’ll keep us here?”

“Long enough to secure five new investors and two photo ops,” you muttered, setting your glass down.

He absentmindedly nodded. “An accurate assessment.”

You tilted your head, giving him a slow look. “Careful. That almost sounded like agreement.”

He scoffed without looking at you. “Statistically speaking, even you were bound to say something useful eventually.”

Your eyes narrowed, a sharp retort already forming on your tongue—but you didn’t get the chance.

“Y/N!” a shrill voice called, honeyed and eager.

You turned just in time to see a well-dressed socialite approaching, eyes alight with recognition. “I just have to say, your mother is such an inspiration—I’ve followed her work for years! And you’re her daughter? My goodness, the resemblance is uncanny…”

As the woman launched into a full-blown gush fest, you fought the urge to sigh—and instinctively glanced to your side.

But Damian was gone.

Meanwhile, Damian had taken the opportunity to slip away, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease until he rejoined his siblings near the bar. Jason, leaning casually against the counter with a glass in hand, raised a brow and nodded subtly in your direction.

“Who was that you were talking to?”

Tim glanced up as well, curiosity piqued. “Yeah, I didn’t realize you had any friends, Demon Spawn.”

Damian rolled his eyes, arms folding across his chest in irritation. “She’s not my friend,” he muttered. “She’s an infuriating enemy I unfortunately cannot get rid of.”

He exhaled sharply, his gaze cutting across the ballroom to where you stood at the far end, still trapped in conversation. You nodded politely, offering a rehearsed smile while yet another socialite praised your mother’s latest tech innovation. Damian looked visibly annoyed just watching it.

“What’d she do?” Dick asked, genuine interest threading through his voice. It wasn’t like Damian to fixate on anyone who wasn’t a threat—or family.

“She exists,” Damian said flatly. “And insists on doing so at the top of every class ranking I hold.”

Tim let out a low whistle, dragging out the sound. “Ah. Academic rivalry. That explains the tension. Thought for a second you were flirting.”

Damian’s head whipped over to look at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jason grinned behind the rim of his glass. “You mean to tell me someone’s finally smart enough to challenge you and you don’t like it? You’ve been whining about your classmates’ IQs ever since Bruce made you go to school.”

“They are stupid,” Damian snapped. “And she’s not a challenge. She’s just—annoying. Always has an opinion. Always needs to correct everyone.”

"By everyone, I'm assuming that you're referring to yourself," Jason smirked.

“You know all of that sounds a lot like you, actually,” Tim pointed out, shrugging with a completely unapologetic smile.

Damian shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Does not.”

Jason elbowed Dick, who had been quietly sipping his drink with a growing smirk. “Ten bucks says they get partnered on some school project and fall in love by spring.”

"You're on," Dick grinned.

Damian’s entire expression darkened.

“I will set you three on fire,” he said, dead serious.

Unfortunately for Damian, the first part of Jason’s prediction came true.

It was Monday morning, second period, and the classroom still buzzed with low chatter and the scraping of chairs as students trickled in and settled down. You had just taken your seat, already flipping open your notebook, when the teacher stepped to the front of the room, her expression far too cheerful for a Monday morning. That alone should’ve been your first warning.

“As you all know we have an upcoming literary analysis project,” she began, scanning the room like she was delivering good news and not the academic equivalent of a grenade, “and I’ve decided to personally pair you all up to ensure balanced collaboration.”

Around the room, groans erupted. A few students exchanged panicked looks or hopeful glances toward their friends. You, however, didn’t care much, prepared to do all the work to ensure the best grade. That was until—

“Finally, Y/n and Damian.”

You blinked once. The words taking a moment to fully register.

From a few seats over, Damian let out a noise that sounded almost like a choking cough.

The teacher—either oblivious to the knife-sharp tension that immediately spiked between your desks or possibly very aware—beamed. “I trust the two top students in our class will produce something exceptional.”

Damian looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.

You offered your teacher a faux pleasant smile, tilting your head. “Looking forward to the challenge.” And then you turned to Damian. “Try not to fall behind.”

The look Damian shot you could’ve curdled milk. He scoffed but didn’t rise to the bait—not verbally, at least. His glare was sharp enough to count as a response on its own as he stood, gathered his things, and reluctantly moved his desk beside yours like he was being sentenced to death.

His books hit the surface of your shared desk with a muffled thud, and he sank into his seat like it physically pained him to be there, sitting stiffly beside you and crossing his arms almost as if he was pouting.

You didn’t so much as twitch. You merely turned toward him with a sickeningly sweet smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Shall we begin?” you asked. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to sulk and pout this entire project.”

“I don’t sulk,” he muttered darkly.

“Sure you don’t.” You agreed sarcastically, before scoffing. “You’re the epitome of brooding.”

He glared at you like he was contemplating homicide—but wisely chose not to respond. Instead, he pulled out his notebook and clicked his pen with more force than strictly necessary.

Unbothered, you flipped open your own notebook, already prepared. “The prompt says we’re to write a five-page analytical paper on a theme of our choice from any of the assigned novels this semester. Preferably one with—” you glanced down at the rubric, “—‘literary merit.’”

Damian raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Which rules out anything you picked, I assume.”

You rolled your eyes. “God forbid we write something that isn’t dripping in post-war existentialism and masculine angst.”

“I vote Frankenstein,” you continued, undeterred. “Morality, monstrosity, creation and consequence—it’s rich. And you can wax poetry about man’s hubris to your heart’s content.”

Damian ignored the jab and frowned thoughtfully. “Overdone. Everyone will be choosing to write about Frankenstein. It’s predictable.”

You turned toward him, brows lifting. “Predictable is safe. Safe is how we get full marks. Unless you want to take a creative risk and tank your precious GPA.”

Damian didn’t even flinch. “The greater the risk, the greater the reward.”

You snorted. “You once titled your essay ‘The Idiocy of Hamlet’s Entire Bloodline.’ I’m still amazed you didn’t fail on principle.”

He shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “And I stand by that.”

You sighed, resisting the overwhelming urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fine,” you muttered. “What do you suggest, then?”

He drummed his fingers against the desk thoughtfully, gaze sweeping over the list of literature they’d covered that year. Once. Twice. Then, without looking at you, he spoke.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

You blinked. “Wilde?”

“Morality. Duality. Self-destruction,” he said smoothly. “All the themes you wanted in Frankenstein, only with better prose and far more interesting characters.”

You hesitated—just for a second. Then you gave a small nod. “…Not a terrible idea.”

He turned toward you slowly, eyes narrowing as though unsure he’d heard you right. “Was that an agreement?”

You smirked. “Statistically, even you were bound to say something useful eventually.”

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How original.”

Despite the initial tension, working together became… surprisingly seamless.

Over the next few weeks, you found yourselves forced into truce—and then, somehow, into something almost akin to a friendship. The first week was hell, of course. You argued over structure, disagreed on thesis points, and debated which citations to use like the fate of Gotham depended on it. But somehow—between your scribbled annotations and his painfully neat footnotes—you found a rhythm. There were still jabs and snide comments, of course. You wouldn’t have expected anything less. But there were also late afternoons at the library, debates that turned into almost companionable, and quiet moments where you realized he wasn’t as insufferable as you first thought.

You were used to handling things alone. Your mother’s world was ruthless, and you’d learned early to hold your own. Trust was a currency, and most people were too quick to squander it. But Damian… he didn’t put you on a pedestal, didn’t flatter you or fawn over your name like the way other children of Gotham’s elite often did, eager to secure favour or avoid offence. He didn’t nod along just to stay in your good graces. If anything, he seemed allergic to the idea of appeasing you.

Instead of charming you—he challenged you. Constantly.

As much as it pained you to admit it… your mother had been right. Being challenged was good for you.

Damian didn’t make things easier. Instead, he made you better—made you grow.

Soon, you found yourselves almost reluctant to call it a night. You began to look forward to your time together—your new routine. You always ended up at the same back-corner table in the library, shoulder to shoulder, your shared workspace a pile of chaos filed with overlapping notebooks, highlighters, and the book itself.

Your notebooks a mess of underlined passages, marginalia, and colour-coded tabs. Damian’s handwriting was immaculate and neatly written cursive. While yours was sharper, more angular—more chaotic, if you were honest—but it didn’t matter. Your minds clicked in ways your hands didn’t need to.

“Here,” you murmured, nudging his notebook. “You keep saying Dorian’s downfall was vanity, but I think it’s more about his willful ignorance. He chooses not to see the damage he causes. It’s not just narcissism—it’s self-preservation.”

Damian’s gaze shifted to the passage you pointed at, brows furrowing. He didn’t answer immediately.

“You’re saying he wasn’t blinded by ego,” he said slowly. “He blinded himself. On purpose.”

You nodded. “He wanted to live without consequence. The portrait just made it possible.”

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he mulled it over. His jaw was tight with thought, but when his eyes lifted to meet yours, something was different. There was no smugness, no bite, no thinly veiled disdain. He had genuinely considered your point of view and there was even a bit of respect.

“I hadn’t considered that,” he said finally. “That’s not bad.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Was that a compliment?”

He scoffed and turned back to his notebook, the moment gone as quickly as it had come. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you were already smiling to yourself.

And strangely—unexpectedly—you almost found yourself disappointed when the project finally came to an end.

The perfect scores had been inevitable.

With minds like yours and Damian’s, there was never going to be another outcome. The thesis had been sharp, the analysis layered and airtight, the presentation polished to the point of you could probably recite it in your sleep. When your teacher returned the papers—each one marked with glowing remarks and a rare, handwritten “Flawless work”—you barely reacted. Neither did Damian. There was no need for celebration when you both expected nothing less.

And with the project behind you, you assumed things would go back to normal. Cold glances. Sharp remarks. Mutual irritation and academic rivalry. After all, that was what you were good at—competition. Not… whatever the past few weeks had been.

You were just zipping up your bag at the end of the day, earbuds half in as you walked out of the class when a group of boys from your class approached you. You’d never personally interacted with them, but they were always loud a disruptive.

“Well, if it isn’t Gotham’s golden girl,” one of them drawled. “Did mommy buy that perfect score for you too?”

You straightened slowly, expression unreadable, already preparing a verbal lashing when another boy added, “Bet she made Wayne do all the work,” he said with a snort. “There’s no way she’s that smart. I bet Wayne was ready to hit his head against the wall working with her.”

The words weren’t new—God, no. You’d heard them all before. The digs, the undercutting, the suggestion that your success wasn’t really yours. Different faces, different schools, always the same venom. It never used to sting. But today… for some reason it did.

Maybe it was because, for once, the accusation didn’t even come close to the truth. Maybe because—despite everything—you were genuinely proud of the work you and Damian had done. It wasn’t just about the perfect grade. Somewhere along the way, the project had stopped being a competition and started becoming something else entirely. Something collaborative.

You’d found yourself enjoying the process. The way your mind and his clashed and overlapped. The way your perspectives differed—and how those differences pushed you both further. And for once, the outcome wasn’t the reward. The understanding was. You felt like you understood Damian better and had enjoyed the time you two had spent together.

Everything you and Damian had built—every late night, every debate, every carefully chosen word in your paper—they reduced it to manipulation. To nepotism. To the idea that you weren’t enough.

Then much to your horror, the last person you expected to see had just approached. And your body tensed instinctively. The project was over. You and Damian had been companionable these last few weeks, maybe even—if you squinted—friendly. But now? You didn’t know. Would he say something? Join in?

Instead, his emerald green eyes narrowed—on them, not you.

“I suggest you walk away,” he said coldly, voice like cut glass.

You blinked, startled, watching as he came to stand beside you, arms crossing neatly over his chest.

One of the boys laughed, nervously. “Oh come on, Wayne. We all know you did all the work, the only reason she’s here is ‘cause Mommy made a generous donation to the school.”

Damian didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “As did my father. And one call to him, and the lot of you will be expelled before the end of the day.”

And then—before you could even register it—one of them said something utterly vile about you. The implications of it made your stomach twist. The air went still filling with tension.

Damian’s fist flew before you could even blink.

It connected with a sickening crack against the boy’s jaw, dropping him like a rock. The boy lay groaning on the tile, already being dragged away by his friends, who looked more terrified than smug now, stumbling over themselves as they disappeared down the corridor without another word. Cowards, all of them.

You stood frozen for a beat, blinking.

Damian’s shoulders were squared, his breathing steady. He didn’t even glance at you. He just flexed his hand once and muttered, “Tt. Idiots.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “You punched him.”

“He deserved it.”

You bit your lip, your gaze flicking back to where he was standing stoically and glaring at the space where the group had been standing. Then—impulsively, heart hammering in your chest—you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “…Thank you.”

Damian froze.

His entire body went stiff, posture locked like he’d just been turned into a statue. A deep flush bloomed across his cheeks, colouring them a violent crimson as his mouth parted slightly in shock. For once, he had nothing to say.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “…You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “Do you want to grab a milkshake?” you asked, trying to sound casual—like you hadn’t just kissed Gotham’s most emotionally constipated teenager. “We can study for finals too.”

He blinked once. Twice.

Then, in the stiffest, most painfully formal voice imaginable, he replied,

“Yes. That… would be acceptable.”

Grinning now, you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking, tossing him a glance over your shoulder. Damian trailed behind you silently begging whatever gods existed to will the red dusting his cheeks to fade.

Somewhere along the line he realized his brothers had been right. He didn’t dislike you. Not even a little.

In fact, it was probably the opposite.

And he was already halfway through making Jason’s second prediction come true.