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satorhime · 2 years

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˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ SECRET-GO-ROUND | ˚｡ nanami kento x female reader ᨀ minors do not interact˓˓WORD COUNT ᨀ 7.8k˓˓ furueru kuchibiru!retelling, college!au, professor!nanami, uni student!reader, bratty!reader, age gap (nanami is in mid/late 30s, reader is in 20s), teacher-student relationships, carnival dates, a sprinkle of fluff 'n' angst, public sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, quickie on a ferris wheel, creampies, money shots, sensei kink, anal play, fingering, degradation + reader is a lil manipulative. @SYNOPSIS ᨀ kento is in a secret relationship with his student, but when he loses a bet to her, he has to take her on their first date in public. @SATORHIME SAID ᨀ this is my first long fic since the spring and i'm so excited for u to read it !! (/ε＼*) i hope u babies enjoy this nasty lil piece i cooked up in my candy store MWAH !!

nanami kento is a hypocrite.

he demands professionalism and punctuality from his students and he does not believe in making mistakes that can be avoided in life. his entire day would be ruined if he walked down a sidewalk and stepped in chewing gum when he could have taken the train, yet he detests tardiness. he grimaces at late assignments, typos in emails, and clucks his tongue at mispronounced words during oral presentations, even though, out of every faculty member and student at the university, he may be the one making the biggest mistake of them all.

it's surprising because nanami conforms to the standard. he studied law because he respected the structure of rules and resonated with upholding order and justice. he takes the moral high ground above his immature colleagues who refuse to grow up even though they're well past the age of thirty. much to nanami's delight, they stopped inviting him out on weekends because he couldn't stop sneering in disgust at their conversation, threatening to report toji, satoru, and suguru after they attempted to coax him into their long running competition of letting their good looks and expensive doctorates seduce starry-eyed students into fucking them for sport; tallying up each other's scores from their game like athletes every monday morning.

but yes, nanami kento is still a hypocrite.

because he is the only one with a student walking around his apartment half-naked right now.

of course, nanami knows better than that. he barely dated through his long years of school, too focused on hanging up degree after degree in his parents’ living room to have time for anything more than a couple of flings and failed dates. and now four years into his tenure, a brilliant professor with a heap of accolades under his designer belt, he fell in love with you, his pretty little student.

he doesn’t know how it happened when the two of you are complete opposites— nanami is a jaded homebody that rejects human interaction and you are a firecracker full of energy in constant need of his attention. it wasn't even supposed to happen, but it's been a downward spiral of forbidden feelings since that one fucking evening you stayed behind after class to discuss your law research paper with him. you'd ended up hitting it off— you found nanami handsome, confident, and easy to talk to. confiding in him about your worries over getting good grades and making your family proud, and somehow that conversation ended with you being fucked over his desk for the first time. in truth, he had expected you to have your fill of a fantasy you wanted to play out and skip onto the next after that, but you didn’t seem to care about any of the other boys who looked at you around campus.

instead, you were satisfied with wriggling your way into his heart, one swish of your plush hips at a time.

you’ve wriggled your way into his home as well, peeking your head curiously into his bedroom now. you find nanami still asleep on his back— his legs tangled in the bamboo sheets and one muscled arm thrown across his handsome features, shielding his eyes from the light beams. your eyes rove over his shirtless form, the morning sun illuminating the chiseled grooves of his toned abs— catching onto the fine dusting of golden hairs over his adonis belt. though he ignores the silly effect he has on you and the other students, your professor is easily the most beautiful man on campus and you could stare at him all day.

but not right now. a pout shapes your lips in disappointment because you rarely see nanami anymore. he’s busier than ever now between classes starting back up at the university, the cases he handles at the firm, and writing his faculty book. today is the first day he’s been free in almost a month, and he plans on sleeping the entire day away? that won’t do.

you tiptoe into the room, crawling onto the pillowy mattress to straddle nanami’s narrow hips. the warm weight rouses him, but his eyes remained shut, a soft groan rumbling behind his ribcage.

“it’s too early for you to be in my lap, little love,” his voice is rough and syrupy with sleep, making you suck your bottom lip into your mouth at the sound of it— but you’re determined not to let his attractiveness ruin your plan for the day. “come on, get off.”

“well, it’s too late for you to still be in bed, damn it,” you huff, peeling his arm away from his face to cup his cheeks. you watch as horizontal lines appear in his forehead, and you hurry to continue, “today is your day off, kento-sensei. i was thinking.. maybe- let’s go out on a date!”

nanami’s café au lait eyes flicker open with a speed that startles you, fixed on your pretty face. you’re wearing his shirt and there’s a pillow mark on your cheek, hair messy from sleep. he feels his chest cave in because there’s nothing he wants more than to take you out to see the world and share your beauty with it. instead, a weary sigh exhales from his nostrils and it sounds like a declination.

“you’re going to say no, aren’t you?”

“yes, you know that we cannot be seen together. what will you do if someone recognizes one of us?”

“we’re a couple, aren’t we? why are you always so worried about someone seeing us. c’mon, kento-sensei- i want to go to the carnival that's in town. we can even wear disguises!” you try reasoning with him melodramatically, but kento simply shakes his head at your antics.

“i’m sorry, love, but there is too much at stake, for the both of us,” nanami says, squeezing your hip in apology. you frown— you hate being coddled by him.

“too much at stake? like your tenure? is that really the most important thing to you?”

“i won’t have this conversation again,” he clips sternly, propping his torso up on one elbow to narrow his sharp eyes at you. “when your classmates start rumors about you fucking me for extra credit, will going out on a date really be worth that? i’m thinking about your reputation, not mine.”

“i don’t want you to think of my reputation, i want you to treat me like your woman,” you roll your eyes. it’s always the same argument. while nanami is content to hide your relationship in shaded alcoves and apartments with the curtains drawn, you want to love him openly. to run errands with him and sit in sunny windows at cute little cafés with him— to not have to lie at sleepovers with your friends when they ask who is the one who is making you so happy.

nanami’s silence is degrading, frustration simmering up in your chest. a deeper frown twists your features as you reach for a fluffy feather pillow, gripping both ends and swinging it down— aiming right for nanami’s head.

he knocks the pillow away easily, unamused. “what are you, an infant?”

“argh, you’re so annoying. fine then, have it your way!” you grumble, but then your big doe eyes glint mischievousness in them. nanami can only watch with a lifted brow as you reach for the buttons of your (his) shirt, unbuttoning them quickly with trembling hands. your heart picks up to thump excitedly as you slip one side of the shirt apart, letting the fabric pool in the crook of your elbow— revealing pebbled nipples to your professor’s confused eyes. you gently cup one of your breasts teasingly, a minx. “let’s do it this way instead.”

“and what way is that? are you trying to bribe me, young lady?” he snorts, but his eyes flicker down to the soft swell of your breasts, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallows.

you nibble your lip as you sit on your knees between his legs to paw the sheets covering his hips out of the way.

“obviously my bribery’s working since you’re already hard,” you tease in a saccharinely sweet voice. kento prefers sleeping in expensive silks with nothing underneath so your eyes are immediately drawn to the very visible print of his erection. you cup the bulge of his cock gently, palming it against your hand— little cunt pulsing greedily as you feel it twitch under your touch, nanami hissing under his breath.

the pit of his stomach lurches traitorously because he knows what your mushy little brain is up to— whenever he refuses to let you get your way, you’ll be reaching to hold his cock in your hand as if it is a genie that can grant all of your wishes.

one of these days, you will drive him insane.

especially when you’re humming sweetly as if you're folding laundry, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his ankles. the heavy strain of his cock plops against his abdomen. you grab for it, marveling at how tiny your hand looks compared to it. honestly, nanami’s cock is just so fucking pretty to you that you long to tell all of your girlfriends about it— thick and weighty, a little darker than his body with a dusky tip that leaks so much. maybe you would leave out the detail that without proper preparation, his cock stretches you out painfully. tears and snot and limps in your walk whenever he fucks you.

“oh, it’s leaking,” you simper breathlessly, throat running dry.

“don’t be crass,” he scolds, but you ignore him to stare in wonderment at the way the bulbous head is drooling precum in a steady trickle, smearing over your hand as your thumb rubs against a thick vein. you go slippery, wet between the thighs at the thought of sucking it into your mouth, basking in the way his hips give a little jolt as you touch him. but other than that, he regards you with a flat look. “so what are you planning, hmm? tell me.”

“i want to make a bet with you,” you lower your face until you’re level with his crotch, opening up and lolling your cherry tongue out invitingly. nanami inhales a serrated breath as your soft lips sucks the tip of his cock into your little mouth, sampling his taste.

“how about this?” you continue, fluttering your lashes as you breathe in the masculine scent of his cock. he tastes good, sweet precum bursting over your tastebuds as you pause to swipe your tongue into the slit. you can't even wait, suckling down on the tip greedily, pausing between licks to speak. “if you can keep yourself from cumming until.. eleven ‘o clock then i’ll drop the idea of going on a date, but if you can’t… you have to take me to the street carnival. pretty please?”

he pauses to think about it for the longest, and you roll your eyes, scraping your teeth ever so lightly against the underside of his length to bring his attention back to you, earning a dirty look in reward.

“i’m offended you think i’ll lose,” he snorts, but the way his hips kick as you kitten lick over the slit of his tip makes you smile. you're already winning. “i’m an adult, little darling. i know how to control myself.”

“oh yeah?” you coo, challenging him by tilting your head down with an open mouth, warm and wet on the wide girth of nanami’s cock— drawing him in against hollowed cheeks, lathering him down in saliva that smells like mint and morning coffee. you reel back, hard on the pull up before slurping him back down in a slow mouth fuck.

he tosses his head back with a deep huff from his nostrils, hand twitching on the bed. sometimes you hate how quiet nanami is. on some nights, after he is forced to watch boys flirt with you around campus while you’re dressed in tiny little shorts and slutty little skirts, he’ll toss you on his mattress and fuck filthy lies into you about sitting you on his cock in front of all 40 students in his course and claiming you as his girl, growling in your ear until you’re splashing his sheets with cum and crying into his shoulder because you want it so bad. but during times when you’re being bratty, he never rewards your bad behavior with the praise you work on your knees for.

you briefly glance at the clock on the nightstand.

10:32 AM

“gonna cum yet, nanami-sensei?” you tease on the release, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in your spit. you smile up at him with precum on your teeth, blinking coquettishly as you let his cock plop against his abdomen, flattening your tongue to lick long stripes up and down the length of his cock. “it’s okay if you want to let go of it, i’ll catch every last drop of your cum.”

“i’m not going to fucking cum,” nanami snaps, gritting his jaw. his eyes are narrowed and though he looks unimpressed and obstinate, he frays at the seams. “are you so hungry that you’ll eat my cum? stop this childishness and i’ll make you breakfast then.”

“mm-! that won’t work,” you giggle at his weak attempt, before sinking your mouth back down on his cock, nose buried in the sandy hairs around the base. digging your fingernails into the olive skin at his thighs when the tip of his cock bumps against your fleshy throat, gagging around him as you struggle to swallow around the thickness lodged in your throat. mouth too small to accommodate the size of his fat girth. your cheeks are so cute, too— chubby with the strain, but you’re determined, even as thick precum drools down the back of your tongue and you choke, gurgling and flexing your tongue to greedily swallow it down.

he’s always sensitive in the morning, waking up with his stiff erection pressed shamefully between your ass cheeks so you know exactly how to work him, a sweltering suction around his leaking cock. burning hot pleasure right into the pit of his gut. his fingers fist in the sheets and he looks so fucking ruined in the morning sun with his jaw slacked, neck blotchy and bursting with veins from the strain of holding off his grunts of pleasure— holding off his cum too. “j-jesus fuck, love. that’s it-”

this time, nanami is the one desperately searching for the red glare of the alarm clock, eyes wildly reading the numbers.

10:47 AM

thirteen minutes left. if he can just—

“don’t pretend you don’t feel good, kento-sensei,” you giggle as you reel back to breathe, swirling your tongue over the tip of his sticky cock. he grunts, his hips jolting desperately. “i know all of your weak spots, after all.”

the law professor bristles, panting as he glares down at you.

“don’t look at me like that… i just wanna make you feel good,” your aggressiveness isn't new to him. though usually you’re gooey in the head, on your back with legs splayed, letting him do whatever he wants to you— there are times like right now when you’re dipping further down to suck on his balls, weighty and full with cum, sending nanami’s hips into a frenzy. his hard cock slaps against your forehead as his hips jerk up, but you wrap your hand around it— pumping him quickly.

“fuck, i…”

“duh-oh, i’m running oush of time,” you mumble as you suck greedily on one of his balls, watching the clock.

10:57 AM

“what are you-”

“you liked it when i did this, right sensei?” you hum, melodic voice like a siren on a shipwrecked shore, luring him in. devilish mouth smiling sweet as you’re committing sin, lowering further to play your dirty tricks on him— spreading one of nanami’s ass cheeks apart to swirl your tongue around the rim of his hole at the same time you squeeze his cock painfully.

“d-don’t, darling. fuck… you’re going to make me-”

his reaction is immediate, a big fist twisting in your hair to shove your head away from him but it’s too late. above you, nanami punches out a grunt that sounds ruined, the spongy wetness of your tongue teasing at his puckered hole combined with your firm hand pumping his cock in a steady rhythm is too much. he loses the bet with the back of his head shoved into the pillow, thighs twitching from the shocks of pleasure as long ropes of cum splashes onto your face in white strings, dripping wet down your cheeks.

when he shoves your head away, you sit back on your heels— beaming up at him with the prettiest smile of triumph, covered in his cum.

“that’s that,” you tease, “should i wear my white or pink dress?”

“we’re only staying for a short while,” nanami announces with an exasperated sigh, even as he fastens the neon pink unlimited rides! armband around your wrist. when he finishes, you beam and hook your hand into the crook of his arm— scoping out the attractions. “where do you want to go first?”

the last day of the traveling carnival is crowded. an annual late summer tradition in your city, it never fails to draw out the numbers on weekends. lovesick couples share kisses, dining on overpriced treats. exhausted families push around strollers with wailing babies inside of them while teenagers shove each other in the queues for thrill rides, pop music blasting through the speakers. it’s a risk, the kind of location nanami would have avoided for a first official date with his student, for fuck’s sake, but he hates seeing your looks of disappointment.

he much prefers the way you look right now— drunk on the scent of buttery popcorn and sugary cotton candy— a devastating figment of his dreams, dressed in a little white chiffon sundress that whirls around your thighs with each movement. your eyes twinkling in glee behind the shades perched on your nose at the colorful tents, fast rides, and rows of sideshows.

“let’s try out one of the sideshows first?” you suggest, pointing excitedly to the striped canopy stalls lined up on one row of the carnival, adorable prizes sitting on shelves behind carnies enticing passersby to try their luck at strength tests, shooting games, hook-a-duck and skeeball for cheap prices. “you could use a win after this morning.”

“does that mouth of yours ever know how to be quiet?” nanami wonders wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose out of habit as rosy flush creeps above the collar of his shirt. “lead the way if you’re finished making fun of me.”

rolling your eyes, you tug him by the arm over to a shooting range. colorful balloons line up in many neat rows. the carnie behind the stall brightens up at new victims, his smile missing several teeth as he gestures to the game— holding up a handful of sharp darts in invitation.

“good evenin’, good evenin’ to the lovely couple! interested in trying your luck in pop-a-balloon? all ya hafta do is aim and throw. hitting five red ones in a row wins the largest prizes,” he markets, “yer fella looks like he’s got a good arm on ‘em too. whaddya say?”

“it’s an obvious scam they’re running. the red ones are the smallest,” kento points out under his breath, but you shoot a glare at him, nudging him forward. he sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts to retrieve his wallet, slapping a crisp ten on the wooden counter. “fine.”

“good choice! take these darts ‘n’ give it yer best shot, buddy,” the carnie pockets the bill, handing the darts to nanami and stepping safely out of the way.

“alright, which one do you want, darling?”

“the big one,” you grin.

“of course you do,” the male purses his lips, folding up the sleeves of his shirt before he takes the darts. it’s attractive the way his forehead creases, concentration narrowing his eyes behind his green tinted sunglasses. he knows games like this are rigged, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully analyzing the balloons because you want the prize and he’ll do anything for you. it’s easy math, calculating the distance between his stance and the target wall— stretching a visual line across the tiny red balloons.

the first dart strikes out, bursting the balloon with a startling pop. you clap your hands happily in support, a greedy pang of want twinging in your lower belly as you watch his biceps ripple with the movement as the rest of the balloons bursts easily until he's out of darts— game over.

“congrats, man, y’ didn’t embarrass yer girl,” the carnie jokes, but you can tell he isn’t happy about the quick and easy win. “which one d’ you want, miss? top’s yours to choose from.”

“that one,” your eyes sparkle, pointing to the large pompompurin prize in that adorable little suit. you’re handed the fat plush that dwarfs your frame, squeezing it to your body in delight. “it looks like you, nanamin!”

“oh? should i be worried about the competition?”

“please, no one can ever replace you.”

you say it with a teasing smile, but nanami hates the way his heart stutters, even as his mind screams that he isn’t supposed to be here with you, entertaining your girlish affections, in love with you beyond repair.

but as the sun relaxes the sky into a dreamsicle orange, so does the weight on nanami’s shoulders. he still keeps his eyes sharp for familiar bodies, but he finds it harder to resist your energy— letting you take his hand to drag him around the rest of the carnival grounds to various attractions. spending his money on sticky cotton candy, powdery funnel cake and customized couple items. forcing him to accompany you on your favorite rides, too— rollercoasters and carousels and tilt-a-whirls until the two of you are dizzy and windswept.

“you looked relaxed,” you hum over the noise of thrill ride chains clanking together and carefree laughter in the background, tucked comfortably under kento’s arm as the two of you wait behind three other couples in the queue for the ferris wheel— your favorite and final stop before the date finally ends.

“i don’t have to work today,” he replies dryly, but his thin lips quirk up as if he wants to smile.

“that’s the only reason? ken, you’re so boring.”��

you really have a terrible habit of not letting him finish his sentences, he thinks.

“wah, i wish we could do this everyday!” you cheer, cuddled up against nanami’s warm side as the ferris wheel begins to move, ascending higher into the sky as the large capsules sway in the breeze calmly.

nanami simply nods in reply as he stares out of the window of the enclosed gondola, the giant pompompurin he won for you balanced comically on one of his knees. the view is breathtaking from up here. people strolling around the carnival grow smaller, the winking lights on top of the tents nothing more than tiny fireflies in the late summer night from this height. so high above the world who would judge you, it’s easy to forget decorum and feel like a normal couple.

it even has kento completely at ease, sighing peacefully and believing that nothing could ruin the peaceful moment of bliss between the two of you up here—

until the ride jeers and jolts to a hard stop, swinging the capsules violently.

you hear a crackling noise from the speaker attached to one of the beams.

“attention all ride passengers!” the teenager operating the ride speaks into the staticky intercom with mildly contained panic. “we’re experiencing a malfunction and will have the ride working after a short while. please remain seated and do not open your capsule door. thank you!”

“just grand,” nanami purses his lips in disapproval before his eyes slide over to you, reaching over to draw you closer. “are you alright?”

but where he expects to be met with your apprehension, your answering smile is a twinkling constellation of giddiness and opportunity. after all, how could you be afraid when you’re stuck at the top of the world with the most attractive man born into it? looking at him right now means thinking of nothing else anyway. he looks good out of a suit with the outdoors on him— hair mussed up and sweat staining his pristine white linen shirt. you think about earlier today when you whined at him about lacking romance until he agreed to eat cotton candy from your fingertips, melted sugar crusted against your digits as nanami licked and suckled obscenely on purpose until your panties were embarrassingly damp.

knowing this date out in the open with him will likely be your last, you plan on making the best of it until the very end.

“h-hey, sensei?” you call for him, warmth blooming over your cheeks at the sudden idea pushing to the forefront of your mind.

“mhm?”

“didn’t seeing me in this pretty dress today make you want to fuck me?”

“don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he replies flippantly, but you don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that rattles through the quiet gondola that betrays his answer. you looked like an angel of sin the entire day in your little white dress. how many times did that fucking hem flutter above your thighs in the wind as you carelessly bounced around, giving him a flash of your cotton panties? how many times did he have to yank it down before another man got a look at his girl— “i hardly noticed it.”

“i could show you now,” you hum softly, never satiated. you rest your chin on his shoulder, fingers playing along the top of his thigh. “you could fuck me right here and no one would know. we’ll be here for a while…”

“you force me to come on this date with you during my day off, now you want sex too? you’ve been hanging around frat boys too much,” he deadpans, but his cock twitches in traitorous interest against his inner thigh at your nasty little proposition. it’s hardly appropriate and he shouldn’t allow you to crawl onto your knees and plop right into his lap, but nanami can never find the willpower to deny you whenever you desire something that he can provide. “need i remind you that we’re in public? what are you-”

“don’t be mean to me, sensei. i didn’t get to cum this morning, you know,” you whine childishly with a blubbery pout to goad him. you’ve always been insatiable and greedy, the simple thought of being stuck at the top of a ferris wheel with nothing else to do but wait to be rescued swirling a lusted ache into your cunt for him, needy and pulsing.

“if we would’ve stayed home per my suggestion, i would’ve taken care of this here,” he tuts, his voice clipped and hard as he gestures to the way you’re already squirming against his thigh. “you just can’t wait for me, can you? even after class, you always have to sit on my cock before we get home. what am i going to do with you?”

“i-i can’t help it,” you bundle the hem of your dress against your hips as you lean back, the center of your panties soaked and sticky wet between your puffy lips. he can’t see the damp patch waiting there for him, but he can feel it. wetting the cloth of his shorts down where you squirm and wriggle. the lights on the beams of the ferris wheel rotate into the gondola, flashing neon rainbows across your and nanami’s features in the quiet dark, allowing you to see the way his honey brown eyes darken to black.

“stop thinking so much for once and pass the time with me,” you continue, purring the words against his neck. you move closer, your breasts pressed up against the damp linen of his shirt as you run your tongue over the sharp cut of his jawline, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and tom ford aftershave. your next move is the last bit of convincing he needs, fingers slipping between the gap of your bodies to palm the fat line of his growing erection. “y-you’ll fuck me, right nanami?”

nanami grits his teeth as he feels his cock thicken in arousal, staving off a groan. his fingertips itch with the desire to touch you. he doesn’t know what has the biggest affect on him right now— the high altitude, the memory of your cute little throat struggling to swallow around him first thing in the morning, or just you in general. wearing a sundress shorter than some of his work shirts and begging him to fuck you on a ferris wheel.

“come here, pretty little thing,” nanami murmurs huskily, squishing his big fingers into your soft cheeks to draw your lips to his for a kiss. he never fails to make stars bust behind your eyelids when he touches you— bold and bratty until you’ve gotten your way and he’s in the lead, letting you squirm on his lap. your cunt gushes at the kiss alone, warm and wet and forbidden as nanami tongues over your bottom lip— sucking it into his mouth, kissing you to a swell until you open for him obediently and he’s fully in control. searing licks of his tongue as he explores you.

the kiss is sloppy, just how you like it. challenging a clean-cut man like nanami who lives by the book into swallowing your soft whines and moans, into swapping strings of bubbly spit that tastes like cotton candy and caramel apples.

“you’re so messy, even in public,” he chides, breaking the kiss to give you room to breathe but you chase it, nipping his upper lip with your teeth hard, nanami grunting low in his chest before you soothe the sting with your tongue. he pinches your chin between his fingers, twisting your head to the side to redirect his mouth to your neck. he knows better, but you cloud his judgment— murk up the waters of his mind as he fastens his lips onto a spot against your neck, suckling at the skin until the capillaries burst and his mark blooms slow.

“o-oh-”

“you’re even messier down here, aren’t you? filthy girl, how long have you been this wet?” he groans lecherously, fitting a hand between your spread legs and his thigh so he can twist the front of your ruined cotton panties against his fist, drawing them upwards so the damp fabric wedges painfully against the seam of your unused cunt.

“that h-hurts, ken,” you whine, but it whispers off into a blissful sigh as nanami shifts the fabric, rubbing raw against your slit. with his free hand, he tugs the sweetheart neckline of your dress to press wet kisses over your chest with a hum.

“i’ve got you, darling. i’ll take care of it- make it all better,” he promises, and just as he’s about to jerk your panties to the side and put his fingers on your pussy, the intercom crackles in a tinny screech—

the two of you startle, chests heaving breathlessly and hearts thumping tandemly in erratic rhythms.

“attention all ride passengers,” the voice is unfamiliar, clearing their throats before continuing, “the ride will be back in working condition in an estimate of thirty minutes. thank you for your patience and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

thirty minutes.

“n-nanami-sensei, h-hurry up! please, before-” you whisper out in a frantic breath, fumbling for the loops of his belt to unbuckle it.

“hush, i promised i would take care of it,” he grunts, as unhurried as ever as he swoops his head down and fastens his lips around your nipple over the material of your sundress, suckling the bud until he feels it peak against his tongue, until the fabric is soaked in his spit and your pussy clenches hungrily in need. he nibbles at the bud, torturing you— pinching it between his teeth, bringing irritated tears to your eyes at the little twinges of pain. “alright now. i want you to take my cock out and rub it through your messy little slit, can you do that for me?”

“can i sit on it?” you flutter your glistening eyelashes at him as he reels back, leaning against the bench of the capsule, letting you twiddle the buttons of his shirt apart first— revealing golden skin and the ripples of his washboard abs before you continue, sliding the zipper down on his shorts. kento’s cock is fully hard when you draw it against your palm, warm and twitching when you squeeze it experimentally.

“what did i teach you? haste is the enemy of quality.”

“god, y… you’re so annoying,” the gondola is too dark to see, but you know what it looks like from memory alone. his cock bounces between the two of you, slapping against your belly button, the mushroom tip leaking foggy droplets down the thick shaft. your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around it firmly, spreading tacky precum as you pump him slowly.

he tugs your panties to one side as you lift up just a little, letting nanami’s cock bend along the line of his thigh— long and hard under your ass when you sit down against it. he knows that the two of you are running out of time; he can’t tease you like he does at home or in his office after hours, boring you with philosophical quotes or quizzing you with topics you don’t pay attention to in his class and forcing you to sit on his cock for hours when you answer incorrectly. drool floods your mouth at the delicious friction as you hump your pussy over his cock desperately, wetting him down in strings of slick; your puffy clit rubbing against the flared head, but it's not enough.

“n-nanami-sensei, c-c’mon, this isn’t fair-” you pant into the crook of his neck, oversensitive and strung out, swiveling your hips in a slow circle, grinding your clit down hard until it feels sore.

“what isn’t fair, little darling?” nanami chuckles in amusement, but he sounds like ruination, voice gravel on stone. he slips the straps of your sundress from your shoulders to press kisses to your heated skin. he forces the fabric down further, just until one of your nipples are exposed and he can wrap his lips around the bare skin, suckling it against his tongue. he drags his cock away from your folds, slapping it hard against the coarse curls at your mound. “you think i'm unfair because you want my cock inside you around all of these people and i won't give it to you? when will you ever learn propriety, hmm?”

“n-not ‘til you fuck it into me, kento-sensei,” is your petulant response, gripping the skirt of your sundress dress until the skin of your knuckles feel taut. it’s unfair that he makes fun of how much you want him, it's unfair that he has all of that cock but he won't let you fuck yourself on it, it's unfair but you let it happen— wriggling in anticipation, letting him slap the tip of his cock against your clit and tease you out as you moan for it dumbly. “wanna sit on it your cock so i can learn something!”

“why do you think you deserve it?”

the effect he has on you is dangerous. maybe you’re naïve and reckless with your heart, the dewy-eyed college girl helplessly in love with her professor— but no one has ever made you feel the way that he does, not the shitty frat boys or snobby trust fund babies that chase your cute smile and pretty skirts at parties and in hallways. while he thinks you’re using him to fulfill a fantasy, you’re simply unable to convey your feelings into actual words. it’s more than just wanting to fuck him because you’re good at it and it feels good. instead, it’s because when his cock is stretching you out, the two of you joined in the most intimate way possible, it’s forbidden words left unsaid. you deserve him because you lo—

“buh-..’cause you always gimme what i want?” is how you choose to respond instead.

“incorrect answer as always, brat,” he scolds, reaching around to deliver a punishing slap to your ass, making you cough out a yelp. “sit on me, even though you don’t deserve it.”

oh.

you glance out of the window behind kento’s head. it’s too dark to see inside of the other stranded gondolas below you, but you wonder if they can see you. if the other couples are watching as you lean up on sore knees, smearing his precum along your folds as his cock swipes through your slit until the fat head catches on your entrance and you hear him hiss.

your heart thuds painfully against your ribs, the familiar feeling of delicious fear at the sheer size of your professor’s cock setting an ache in your belly. you widen your thighs, your knees scratching against the rough material of the bench as you reach down to spread one of side of your folds apart, opening yourself for him. but as you plan to sink down slowly, carefully, the ferris wheel suddenly rocks, spearing you down too fucking quick on the blunt head of his cock—

“w-wait, k-kento-sensei-!” your abrupt shriek rings out in the silence as you scramble desperately to wrap your arms around his neck for support. glassy tears spring hot to the corner of your eyes, the stretch making your sore cunt flutter around him tight and desperate as your knees try to snap shut against his hips uselessly. you try to hold yourself from sliding down on him any further until you're ready for it, but you’re so fucking wet that your pussy greedily sucks in the rest of his inches and your thighs give up against the strain, weight forcing you down to sit flush against his lap— jutting his cock up against your womb with a deep twinge.

“take it easy, darling girl,” he bites out behind clenched teeth as his head tosses back against the window, his groan vibrating against your bodies. fingers digging deep into the soft skin of your hips at the intrusion, the sensation of your pussy sinking down on his cock is too much— breaking him out into a cold sweat, feverish. you're so small, tightening around him until he feels like choking. his calloused hand tries to rub soothingly over the soft dimples of your lower back, but he’s just as fucked out as you.

“i-i can’t-!” you cry out, trembling in his arms and clinging to him hopelessly, snot bubbling in your nose and mascara staining your cheeks. you shift experimentally and you feel your stomach lurch with a wet gasp punching from your lips, but there’s no real time to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you and you know it— not when the mechanics are close to fixing up the broken ride. “n-nanami-”

“you can do it, love,” he coos, kissing the temple of your sweaty forehead with the tender care you deserve for trying to accommodate his fat girth. he rewards you by fanning his hand over your belly, thumb dropping upside down to rub through your folds, fucking it over your swollen clit in squishy circles. “show me how well this pussy can take me.”

you nod dumbly, the pleasure singeing your nerves raw as you shakily lift out of his lap before sinking again, his cock disappearing against your gummy walls with a thick push that squelches lewdly on the draw in. it’s overwhelming and so fucking good, your hand slapping against the window behind his head for leverage— leaving a print in the condensation. “eugh- f-fuck, kento-”

there’s a different kind of stroke to a cock when you’re not allowed to have it. sweet punishment for your sins because you aren’t supposed to be here with your professor, fucking him at all, let alone in public. forced to settle for short, deep drops of your hips instead of bouncing high and spreading it out— keeping him snug against your cervix in order not to rock the capsule too much. it’s messy and your cunt loves it, slick spreading along your thighs, gushing down the length of nanami’s cock.

“ah, look at you. you love this, don’t you? you wish someone would see. it’s like you want to get caught so everyone will know who this cunt makes the sweetest sounds for,” nanami rasps out, thumbing your clit faster now, leaving his fingerprints under the hood of the sore nub. he widens his stance, spreading his feet apart to force you to sink deeper into his lap— hard jostles, your ass cheeks slapping down lewdly against his balls. your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but grasp one of your tits into his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste the salty skin on his tongue.

“i-i love it-! i love it s’much, kento-sensei. love you s‘much-!” you sob loudly, burning with the affection his cock fucks against your nerves. you’re drunk on the pleasure, too much dopamine twinkling in your brain to realize the weight of your confession, but kento does. heart sputtering and swells inside his chest cavity because you sound like you mean it— cock thickening inside of you.

“fuck- fucking love you too, my darling girl.”

the desperate rhythm of your fucking upsets the gondola, rocking it slightly, and kento loses ground— his teeth catching your nipple in a pinch that makes you fuck down on him harder. the pain combined with the pleasure of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt dizzyingly sweet. he soothes over the sting with a gentle suck of his mouth and you squirm with a whine, gushing around him even more, your sticky cream foaming around the base of his cock in a squishy ring that aids your slide.

“we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, folks. the ride appears to be fully operational now and we will begin unloading passengers now!”

the intercom announces loudly as the engine of the ride cranks up on the ground, the flashing lights shining into the gondola once again. you don’t even pay attention to the bright beams, eyes rolled back and and head too full of cum to notice so kento quickly clamps his hand over the back of your head and forces it down against his shoulder to hide your silhouette in the window.

“no- don’t wan’ get off yet. i-i’m so close… wanna cum on your cock so bad!”

“what are you going to do if we reach the bottom of the ferris wheel doing this?” he pants, his hands pressing searing bruises into the curve of your hips as he lifts you effortlessly up and down his cock, breaching your soaked cunt with powerful, deep fucks that leaves you ruined.

“a-are you scared of getting caught, nanami-sensei?” you whine, shifting against his strong hold, drooling against his shoulder as you moan loudly. nanami answers by bucking his hips off the bench hard, letting the devastating drops of your hips be met with hard snaps of his own.

“hush, filthy girl. you’re so fucking loud,” he hisses, his hand leaving your hip to stuff three fingers into your mouth, clacking against your teeth with the movement. “suck them or do you want someone to hear us and stop you from cumming?”

by the time the ferris wheel begins to descend, your mind is lost to the pleasure nanami fucks into your pussy. your exhausted fingers rub furiously at your puffy clit as you bounce frantically on your professor’s drenched cock, letting the fat cockhead bully that spongy sweet spot nestled along your walls repeatedly until you’re wailing even louder, the sound barely muffled by nanami’s thick fingers.

it’s so fucking good that neither one of you care about getting caught any longer, consequences be damned. the musky scent of sex permeates the tight air, the capsule rocks violently with your sloppy movements. and how could you care about anything else when nanami grips your hair and hisses into your ear, once and for all, “cum for me, you little slut,”

“uhuh, k-kento-sensei ‘m gonna cum for y-you-! jus’ for you-!” you promise with a cry, swallowing his cock down with greedy bounces of your cunt to his lap— thighs trembling violently, eyes crossing up, blurring your vision with tears as you fuck lewdly. your nails scratch down the window desperately as kento takes over and rubs his fingers through your slit, hooking his middle finger into your cunt alongside his cock, stretching you out even further while his thumb is back to rubbing into your clit again. sharp shocks of pleasure in that final movement that burns through your veins, throwing you over the edge.

“give me one, little love- give me one right here, let me feel you-”

you’re wailing too fucking loud, but he doesn’t dare stop you, not when you’re this breathtaking. trembling in his lap as the knot in your lower belly bursts wide open, knees clacking against his hips as your orgasm curls your toes, washing you down with white hot pleasure. you cling to nanami’s neck desperately, cunt expanding as overstimulation sets in and you splash juices against his shorts and the hem of your sundress with so much force that his cock slips out with a wet squelch, until you quickly push it back in with a gasp.

“h-hah, oh god-!” you squeal, writhing all over his lap, cunt still pulsing and clamping around him. kento swears and you know that he’s close too, doing your best to give him a few more weak drops of your cunt on his cock. his muscles tighten and he cums with a long guttural groan that he buries against the sweaty skin of your neck, spurting thick globs of warm seed right up against your womb just as your gondola reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel—

“f-fuck, darling. get off- get the fuck up right now-”

you quickly climb off of kento’s lap on gummy legs, his cum pooling against your cotton panties and trickling messily down your inner thigh. you wipe your thighs on the hem of your ruined dress as kento calmly tucks his dripping cock back into his shorts before buttoning his wrinkled shirt up with an air of easy sophistication, as if he just didn’t fuck his student dirty on a ferris wheel, as if your squirt isn't soaked into his shorts and dripping onto his shoes.

“come here, you,” he beckons, reaching for you to tenderly wipe your tear stained cheeks with his shirt, clearing up the smudges of mascara. “there.”

you smile at him blearily just as the door to the gondola opens. the ride operators take in your disheveled appearances, but round it up to an hour of being stranded at the top of a thrill ride. what were they going to say, anyway? miss, why is that man's cum leaking down your leg?

nanami is casual, holding his head high and exiting first with your pompompurin plush while you follow behind him shyly, his arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you down from the gondola. he knows that the limp in your walk will be too obvious— you’re always so sore after he fucks you— so he kneels down on the platform, letting you climb onto his back to be carried.

the carnival is deserted now. rides that once blasted the summer’s top hits have been shut down, sideshows boarded up for the night, and fairgoers who filled the streets have gone home by the time you and nanami make your way towards the exit, avoiding the makeshift emergency triage to the left checking on passengers of the ferris wheel even though no one was injured. but maybe you needed to let them check your heart and diagnose why you selfishly forced nanami into hanging out with you on his only day off, why you confessed to loving your professor while you were bouncing on his cock—

why you meant every word you said to him.

“say, kento,” you call sleepily, one cheek smushed against his shoulder as your head lolls cutely against it. you hear him hum for you to continue, shifting your weight evenly as he walks out of the carnival grounds and towards the parking lot. a lump forms at the base of your throat, and you hate how vulnerable and weak you sound. “i’m sorry for dragging you out here today on your day off. you must be annoyed with me, right?”

“don’t be foolish,” his voice is back to that endearing monotone, but he gives your thighs a soft squeeze as he strolls, pressing the key finder to his mercedes once you reach the parking lot to locate it. he's been an idiot the entire time, hiding you away like he has. “i’m off next saturday too so let’s go out on a date again.”

˚‧ ✰ hottest students in nanami's class: @tobiodose, @lawscorazon, @fushisslut, @danibby, @hanmas, @atsumeii, @venusflytrapstar, @sheerxfiction, @sintiva, @getosbunny, @tonaken, @sailewhoremoon !!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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signanothername · 1 year

Text

Ok since I talked about Raph’s and Mikey’s relationship it’s time to talk about the disaster twins

From an outsider perspective, the twins seem as tho they’re simply a leader and a follower, as Leo usually talks on behalf of both of them, tells Donnie what to do 24/7 and just doesn’t let anyone direct any conversation towards Donnie, and DonDon just stays silent during all of it, following Leo’s orders and requests to the letter

However that’s not at all the case, it’s just something the twins agreed upon to protect each other, especially whenever they’re within Big Mama’s territory, Donnie is a really bad liar and he dislikes conversing with people and the outside world in general, so he always lets Leo do the talking, while he acts as an observer (whenever Raph isn’t around) to everything around them just in case Leo didn’t pick up anything that’s even remotely suspicious or outta the ordinary

Leo on the other hand, is a really good actor and is able to lie his way through anything, yet he always has the anxiety in the back of his mind that DonDon is gonna slip through his fingers cause of a stupid mistake on his part, so in a way, seeing his usually stubborn and individualistic twin actually listen to him puts him at ease a bit

That of course, is whenever they’re dealing with the outside world, whenever they’re at home or simply hanging out somewhere safe they’re both gremlins who needs someone to keep an eye on them (poor Raph)

In a way, each the twins keeps their half of a pair in check, not to mention, each is the emotional crutch of the other, their peace of existence depends on whether they know where their twin is and if they’re ok

Ironically, they usually treat each other very roughly, but that’s exactly how they show their affection to each other, however Leo is more openly affectionate towards Don and is always willing to show Don how much he loves him, Don on the other hand, isn’t at all openly affectionate, doesn’t mean he loves Leo any less tho, he just struggles with his emotions and in turn is unable to express them, but you always see it in the way Don clings to Leo, or the little things like a “this is only allowed for Leo” or Donnie’s list of things categorized under “twin privileges”

In a way, Leo is the light to Don’s dark world, while Don is the shadow to Leo’s bright world, as you can’t live in a dark world without a light to guide you, and you can’t live in blindly bright world without shadows to define its beauty

Leo’s the Spring, and Don’s the storm

Donnie’s ref sheet

Leo’s ref sheet

Villainous brothers AU masterpost

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mysteryideasgroup · 9 months

Text

MSA X Pop AU Crossover: Survival

Chapter/Episode 5: Escape!

Sarah (Me) with two Pets Dogs/Kitsunes, Sapphire (Dog/Kitsune), and Samantha (Polter Dog/Kitsune). She is with her best friend and her pet, Sardonyx (Polter Cat), Five Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs; MS (Mystery Skulls), TSM (The Sector Mystery), MI (Mystery Ideas), MH (Mystery Hunters), and MS (Mystery Slayers) has escaped from Myron and Jacob from the same last Ch/Ep pt 4, Two Hunters to hunting them! They are fleeing goals: Survive!

----

After they are escaping from Myron and Jacob from the same last Ch/Ep pt 4. They are fleeing from Myron and Jacob.

They are fleeing to run the forest woods.

Myron: Excellent! Run fast, my good lad! A hunt is only as good as the chase it gives!

Jacob: Good! We are running to chase them!

They are jumping over the puddles and shrubs, and rolling under the trees.

Myron: Winston, my dear man. If they would be so kind as to release the hounds, I do believe we can get started.

Myron: Tally-Ho!

Jacob: Terrence, my servant. Need to Hunter Dogs out to them!

They keep running used jumping over the puddles and shrubs, and rolling under the trees. After they have end to fall in leaves covered in the ground. Myron and Jacob with their butlers and dogs have lost them.

Myron: Looks like we’ve lost the trail.

Jacob: Have lost them...

Myron: No matter, we’ll set up camp here and resume the hunt presently!

Jacob: Will look for them and hunt, back to camp.

Myron and Jacob with their butlers and dogs are walking away from lost them.

Later in the underground Survivors

They are unconscious in the underground

???: Got you now, you swine!

???: Gotten you!

They are waking up and they see two mysterious survivors who have survived. Two mysterious survivors quickly realized they are not hunters.

???: Wait - you’re not Van Buren.

???: Wait, not Carmen. They have escaped from Van Buren and Carmen?

Sarah (Me): Who are they?

Max: Max McGullicatty, at your service.

Milo: Milo Sherwood, I’m a survivor.

Ellie: Wait... Milo and Max are meeting them?

Milo: Elli, you meet them. She has helped us escape from Myron and Jacob.

Ellie: Right, my name is Ellie. I'm the former Chef Cook of Jacob.

Laura (You): They’re the ones who left all those clues for us!

Max: That’s right. We’ve been on the run from Van Buren and Carmen for over a year now, waiting for someone like us to show up.

Milo: They were hunters, we had escaped.

Max: We’ve been able to survive underground even with their gammy leg and gammy arm - but with your help, we can turn the tables on Van Buren and Carmen!

Matilda: We'd like nothing more, what do we do?

Max: The old sawmill is the perfect place for us to spring a trap. We'll need a rope, gear, and a whistle. Get those, and then we’ll capture Van Buren and Carmen!

Milo: Right, going. Watch out for Van Buren and Carmen have to search for them. Need to hide and sneak.

Ellie: True, goals are to stop Myron and Jacob for all.

Sarah (Me): Right, we got it.

Molly got a fishing pole and got them. They go underground over the surface and sneak away from Van Buren and Carmen can be noticed by us with their hunter Dogs. They are noticing that sticks on the ground will be soundly and Woodpeckers will be alarmed. Maxy uses the fishing pole to get the whistle from Camp Bases.

Maxy: I got it.

They are back to the underground and way to the underground. Vera pushed the large rock to reach before hunter dogs noticed that they had alerted them to their owners. Vera hides behind tall large bushes hunting dogs and keeps pushing rocks. Success rock on rock. She reached the top of the tall ground. She noticed that the plane was destroyed.

Vera: Oh my God... our plane is destroyed... need another thing.

Vera reached the tree trunk and pushed the tree down. She climbed to the wall to go to the tree to see the bear had a trap with rope. She untied the rope from the free bear. She is down and has got a rope. She goes to the underground tunnel going to Dam. She carefully traps. She goes to free the beaver in a trap. She got a gear. They are back to Max and Milo.

Max: Perfect! Take that equipment to the sawmill and set up a trap for Van Buren and Carmen!

Milo: Soon ready to trap going to capture them!

They are back to the underground and way left to the sawmill. They are waiting for Myron and Jacob is searching for them and away. They got the sawmill. Vera put the gear with gears. Vicki goes to the top of the trap and ropes. She pushed the trap to get perfect. She puts ropes to knots to up a trap. Vicki going to teams. Maxy use the whistle to call. They are noticing Myron and Jacob are not here. Myron and Jacob are behind them and are surprised they are getting traps.

Myron: Got them know!

Jacob: They are know!

Sarah and her Friends: Yikes!

Myron: Very clever! They nearly had me. But no one outfoxes Myron Van Buren and Carmen.

Jacob: They are fleeing from us! We are great Hunters!

Sarah (Me): Why are they doing this?

Myron: The thrill of the hunt, my dear! All for the thrill of the hunt.

Jacob: Yes, am I.

Myron: Now... Time for us to add another trophy to our collection.

Jacob: Right got us!

Max and Milo ride on the Bear to save them from Myron and Jacob. Ellie going to save them from Hunters.

Max: Tally-Ho!

Bear used to free them from traps. Myron and Jacob are scared and shocked that the Survivors are alive.

Myron and Jacob: AHH!

Myron: No matter - my aim's just as good from here!

Jacob: True, got them!

Laura (You): Not if I can help it!

They jump to Hunters to step backward to trap the sawmill. Two Beavers used their tails to slap them in the faces. They walked and watched to trap Myron and Jacob.

Maxy: Have a taste of your own medicines!

Max: They’ve made your last hunt. Van Buren and Carmen.

Milo: No more hunt for us again.

Ellie: I’m no longer chef cook for us. I’m free, I'll have help with them. Bye.

Later, Max and Milo take Myron's Helicopter and Jacob's Helicopter to get Ellie going to get them and the Teams are going back to the home of civilization. They have survived the woods.

----

For @laurasanchez36

AUs Alternate Universes Crossovers belongs to me

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to my msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to her msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs

Mystery Skulls Animated belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27 of YT Series

Poptropica Survival belongs to Games of Poptropica

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terrainofheartfelt · 7 months

Note

Serenate + 50

Serenate + 50 …out of love.

A vaguely 5b au

Having Nate as a roommate just…works.

They have similar rhythms, similar tastes, and since they moved into their midtown two bedroom, it’s been easy.

Sure, there are some hiccups—neither of them has lived without some sort of housekeeping service before, but Serena kind of loves doing everything for herself. Except washing dishes. She hates that. It’s lucky she and Nate could spring for a unit with a dishwasher.

Blair had raised her eyebrows at the whole situation, from Serena’s housekeeping to her choice in roommate, but she didn’t fight it. Serena knows her best friend was just as relieved that they would be getting space from each other. With Dan coming around all the time, it was the right thing.

Living with Nate is easier than it ever was with Blair. Definitely easier living with her mother.

Sure, they spend a lot of their free time looking up how-to videos on YouTube to keep everything clean and functional, but their system works, and Serena likes the accomplishment she feels from a freshly scrubbed bathroom or an edible home-cooked meal.

So, she and Nate fall into a routine. They have their own mish-mashed schedules of classes, a weekly grocery list, a dry-erase wall calendar in the entryway. They fall asleep on each other on the couch every other night, and it’s easy.

Of course Serena thinks about having more, in the way that she’s always thought about Nate. At the back of her mind, just out of her reach, if she stretched her hand out too far, he would disappear.

But it isn’t anything. It can’t be. She already fumbled her shot with Nate more times than she cares to tally up, and she’s only just getting over — whatever happened between her and Dan at the start of the year.

So what if it’s easy. So what if Nate makes her laugh more in two months than she remembers in the previous six. So what if their cramped and over-pillowed two bedroom is the first crash pad she’s had in her entire life that feels like home.

It’s home. Even when she does something so incomprehensibly wrong.

“What the…” she trails off as she rummages through the basket of newly dried laundry she just set on the coffee table to fold. She lifts a hand towel, formerly white, now bright pink—“fuck?”

She digs through the rest of the load. Every single towel, sheet, pillowcase. Egyptian cotton, the highest thread count her mother could find on short notice for a last minute housewarming, all white when she put them in the wash, and now they were all pink.

“Shit, shit, shit.” She wonders if there’s a way to fix it. She could call Dan. Or Dorota. Or maybe Rufus?

Except now she can’t find her phone.

She digs through the basket again, dumping the ruined linens on the couch next to her, hoping to find her phone buried in the wreckage.

It’s at that point that Nate gets back from class. Serena’s heart jumps into her throat at the sound of his key turning in the lock.

She looks up, frozen by a little bit of fear and a whole lot of embarrassment, and sees Nate gaping at the scene of her sartorial disaster.

“I have no idea what happened,” she blurts out, launching to her feet.

Nate bites down on his lower lip, inscrutable.

“I swear, it was an accident.”

He nods listlessly as he slowly walks towards her, eyes on their newly pinked linens.

“But –” she swallows, “good news: I’m really good at shopping. So we can just…You’re mad. Please don’t be mad. I’ll –”

Serena doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because Nate is kissing her. Nate is kissing her. Nate is kissing her.

She pulls back, but only slightly, keeping her face cupped between his hands. “What’s that for?”

His shoulders lift in a shrug in her blurred out periphery—she can’t look away from his eyes. “I love you.”

Serena hauls him back in, pressing her smile to his, the two of them meeting in an approximation of a kiss.

She kisses his lips again, and again, then moves to his cheek, to the side of his neck. The most at home she’s ever felt.

“I love you too.”

#omigod they were roommatessssss #serenate #S and I have talked about it enough I had to do it 🧡#serena x nate #nate x serena #*prompts #Strideofpride

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film-in-my-soul · 7 months

Note

I know, I already asked one, but icemav AU: dealers choice?

As agreed upon, Stargate Atlantis AU! Though I'm not gonna lie, this ended up being longer than intended .-.

.⋆｡°✩ Chasing after what might be a ZPM, Maverick and Ice are ambushed by a group of Wraith. ✩°｡⋆.

WARNING: Violence and Hurt/Minor Comfort

Maverick would love to say that the second they stepped through the Stargate it all went to hell, but it didn't, and in hindsight, that makes it worse because it leaves them relaxed when their initial sweep turns up nothing. Combined with the fact they're not even sure they're chasing a ZPM, it's a recipe for a disaster, and they don't even realize it.

Ice gives assurance that his scanner isn't wrong, but Maverick's heard that before, though, and he lets the lead science officer know, accepting the stern glare with a gleeful roll of his eyes. He dutifully follows behind the blond man into the thick forest that's emanating the signal they're chasing, assuring in a whisper that if they wrap up before nightfall, he'll make up for being a brat when they get back to Atlantis. Ice likes it when Maverick works up a bit of a tally anyway, and Maverick enjoys the game of it.

It all feels too calm, but with their last two ground missions leaving the entire team run ragged, Maverick can't help ignoring the small siren wailing in his mind. They're due for an easy in-and-out assignment. Still, he's not team leader for nothing (though Ice would argue it's because someone has to do the real work, and they'd needed Maverick to pick up the slack), so he breaks them off into teams of two, flanking the clustered woods in a wide semi-circle. He and Ice will arrive at the signal first, and with any luck, if they do run into trouble, Wolf, Holly, Slider, and Goose will get there just behind them to help, only stretched out in half-mile sectors.

Of course, that's all easy enough to say and well enough to plan. It doesn't mean that it's guaranteed to work out as well. It doesn't mean that when Maverick and Ice start bickering ("Bet you it's not a zero-point module," "What do I get when you lose?" "Guess you can come to my quarters after dinner and find out if you don't."), heading straight to the little glowing dot on the scanner, Maverick will be able to react when three figures drop, heavy as hell, from above him, taking the both of them to the ground.

In the struggle, before the butt of a rifle is brought down sharply against his temple, and unconsciousness is unavoidable, Maverick catches sight of familiar leather and waxy sallow skin. He has just enough energy to reach, fingernails digging into the soft forest floor toward where Ice is being restrained, the other man's name on his lips before a sweeping blackness swallows up all his thoughts and drags him kicking and screaming into temporary oblivion.

When Maverick comes to, it's with a trickle of blood sluggishly dripping from the point of his chin and nausea rolling up his throat. He's sitting upright, his hands looped behind the tree he's secured to, and across from him, equally as bound, is Ice. The only notable differences are that his lip and left eyebrow are split, his shirt is open, and his uniform jacket is pulled to the sides.

The urge to throw up doubles because Maverick's not an idiot; he knows why the Wraith would do that. He's not made to wonder long if his assumption is correct either because one without a mask, the leader of their three-party trap, steps into Maverick's line of sight and beside Ice, far too close for comfort.

"I will make this simple," the Wraith says, voice low and hissing, its English garbled and rough.

Maveric knashes his teeth, animal instinct kicking wildly in his chest. "Well, it'd be a first for you guys."

The Wraith signals with his head, and from the corner of his eye, Maverick has just enough time to tense his stomach before it's struck hard by a boot, taking his air with it. Tears of pain spring to his eyes, but he refuses to bow and lower his gaze from Ice, who makes a valiant attempt to struggle against the rope holding him.

"Simple," the Wraith repeats, smugness crawling through its tone, making Maverick's skin crawl with disgust. It raises one hand and slowly, tauntingly, brings it toward the patch of exposed skin of Ice's chest. "You will provide the coordinates to Earth."

"Like hell we will," Ice says, thrashing uselessly again, and Maverick feels a pang lance him. The Wraith pays Ice no attention, eyes steady on Maverick.

"You will provide the coordinates. Or I will strip this human of his life force, one year at a time. I will do this slowly. I will make you watch. It will be your fault."

Maverick grinds his back teeth and makes a show of trying to arch forward into his bindings, using the new angle to check where the lead Wraith's two guards are positioned. He notes that they're not watching behind his tree. With that knowledge, Maverick carefully slips the small razor he keeps tucked into the edge of his jacket free, breathing hard as it lightly thumps to the earth before he's able to snatch it up between his fingers a moment later.

"What makes you think reinforcements won't be here before you can do anything?"

The Wraith doesn't answer, simply tilts his head to the side as if sizing up Maverick's bluff, and then lets his hand fall unceremoniously onto Ice's chest. The scream is immediate, and Maverick, forgetting himself, forgetting the idea of freedom, flails his legs and strains in reaction. It's over in less than five seconds, but it doesn't matter. Ice is panting; there's a stamp of red in the shape of the Wraiths palm slits blistering his skin.

"You bastard," Maverick growls, unconsciously holding the razor in his hidden hand tighter, cutting his palm and recentering him at the same time.

"The coordinates. Your remaining team members are being handled as we speak. Attempting to stall me will not aid you, only prolonging your scientist's suffering. Perhaps he can suffer the loss of five years, but more? Would you have him discover this?"

Fuck. Hell. Maverick is going to vomit, and then he's going to carve himself free, and then he's going to kill all of these lifeforce-sucking, vampire assholes.

"Don't- don't you give them anything," Ice wheezes, panting around the pain that's no doubt lingering. "I can take it."

And Maverick, as much as it makes him sick, nods in agreement.

They reach five years gone (assuming the Wraith isn't lying, skimming more off the top), and Maverick can feel that he's only one more careful draw of his hidden weapon from being loose enough to break from the ropes. Ice has screamed himself raw, and he's sweating up a storm, hair flat and damp against his head, limbs shaking so hard that Maverick can see it even at their current distance from one another.

He's reading himself, coiling his muscles in preparation to spring, when from the edge of the small clearing they've been brought to, Maverick catches the faintest hint of movement. For a split second, he's sure it's the other Wraiths trolling around, only, a moment later, just as slowly, he sees the tips of two fingers rise above the topmost leaves of the bush that had shivered. It's an indicator Maverick knows well, and for the first time in the thirty minutes he and Ice have been trapped, he's relieved.

The maskless Wraith draws close to Ice again, and Maverick watches with anguish as the blond tries to press himself back against the tree as far as he can to escape. The look of terror on Ice's face (still mixed with the steadfast determination and rage that attracted Maverick to him in the first place) makes Maverick's decision for him.

"When I get this fucking rope off me, I'm killing you first," Maverick says, and the edge in his voice must be sufficiently sharp because the Wraith pauses for just long enough, turning to gloat or posture. It's the few seconds Maverick needs.

Uncaring of hurting himself, Maverick wrenches his razor back, and with a satisfying snap, the bindings keeping him locked to the tree break, and he's off the ground just as a shot from the treeline takes down the guard on his left. Instinct guides Maverick's movements, and in less than a second, he's scooped up the downed Wraith's stunner pistol and has it aimed at the leader's chest. He squeezes the trigger before he makes the conscious choice to do so, and just in time- the bastard had whirled back on Ice, ready to suck him dry.

Instead, the blast from the stunner hits, and Maverick follows it up with two more, stepping closer with each discharge until he's practically on top of the alien. Only the arrival of the rest of the team and Ice's labored breathing eases some of the red haze from Maverick's vision and reminds him that his priority isn't the now unconscious Wraith but Ice.

Getting him freed with one hand is challenging, the meat of his palm notably stinging from two deep gashes that hadn't been important moments before. Still, Maverick manages it, catching Ice around the waist and easing him to his knees once the restraints fall away.

He's still shaking, his mouth pale and bloodless, his chest red and bleeding from where the Wraith had touched him. Maverick notes, with a stab of guilt so strong it threatens to double him over, that the very edges of Ice's temple are peppered with streaks of silver-gray hairs.

"Mav..." Ice's voice is weak, but it forces Maverick's attention again to where it needs to be.

"Hey, don't talk," he gentles, getting one arm beneath Ice's to bring them slowly back to standing, "I've got you."

From around them, Maverick hears Slider calling in for a Puddle Jumper and extraction and watches with a dangerous kind of satisfaction as Goose and Hollywood level their rifles point blank against the Wraiths, just waiting for the excuse.

"T-told you I could take it." Ice's smirk is wobbly at best and not in the least bit reassuring, but Maverick forces himself to grin even as he bites the inside of his cheek bloody.

"Yeah, you did."

And Maverick is damn sure that it'll be over his dead body if Ice is ever in the position to have to do it again.

Ficlet Bingo! (Still Squares Left!)

#icemav #icemav ficlet #top gun #top gun ficlet #ficlet bingo

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starofnyra · 5 months

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🌙 • 🦋

thinking considering perceiving fae court AU...

saw this post about tally and cary dancing and the ouftits and setting and it just looked so faerie court au coded aaaand

something disgraced summer knight tally imprisoned in an abandoned garden and spring prince cary runs into him... something

#skyrim taliesin #caryalind thallery #skyrim custom followers #star screenarchery #i have so many photoshoots in skyrim now LMAO

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dakudasalad · 25 days

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Again, first time making au, pls be nice

#tally hall #andrew horowitz #ross federman #tallyhall #tally hall andrew #tally hall ross #tally hall au #Tally Spring #Tally Spring Au

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star-named-riddle · 1 year

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Women of the House of Black Fest

Seeing how @womenofthehouseofblack has put together a very cool festival that happens to have fed my plot bunnies to the point of frenzy, and since shameless self-promoting of fics has been advocated for... here's a list of fics I wrote, in no particular order, about women of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

As always, please heed the tags and the warnings.

The Black Sisters

In your sleep you shed your armour - under 2K, T+

"Narcissa pushed the door to her sister's bedroom open to a bloodcurdling scream that made her cover her ears. She kept them covered as she assessed the scene before her. The screaming turned into loud sobbing, and Narcissa jumped to action." One shot, written for several prompts

The Flower Sister to His Star - 1.5K, T+

During the Spring of 1980, the Malfoys and the Lestranges assemble. Rodolphus recognizes someone's worth

To Not See and Dare, To Look Away and Lose - 3.5K, T+

During a birthday party at the Blacks, Andromeda decides to dare, and Bellatrix loses a sister anyway. Blind!AU

Narcissa

Preparing - 3K, T+

Lucius and Narcissa cuddle by the fire, making preparations for the arrival of their child.

Eden has fallen, but still I have you - 1.5K, T+

"This manor had once been their haven, but no more. They had invited the shadows in, and the monster had followed."

The Nurturing of a Flower - 3.5K, T+

"She will come home, my love," he whispers in her ear in the morning, "I will bring our sweet star of darkness back." The Malfoys kept a secret from Delphini, Lucius must deal with the consequences. Independent side piece to Birds become Dragons, reads as a one-shot. Also, written for several prompts.

Andromeda

I'd Rather Be Me - under 3K, T+

"The varnish cracked and the oil melted as she walked to the front door, and the figure of Andromeda disappeared at the end of the street as the portrait burned away." Andromeda sheds the name of Black

The World Crumbled Around Her - 2K, T+

At night, in Hogwarts, a wizard and a witch come together, only to show their true colours and shatter all they had.

As We Revolve Around the Sun - 1.5K, T+

The first year after the Battle, seen through Andromeda's eyes One shot, written for several prompts, set just after the war

Bellatrix

Icarus, perhaps Prometheus (no matter, the gods always come for you) - under 3K, T+

A day at the beach, and impending doom on the horizon

Better Half, Darker Half - 2.5K, M

Bellatrix and Rodolphus are a match meant to be, the perfect pair of servants to the Darkness, more so on a night to remember One-shot, set during the First Wizarding War, written for several prompts

So Be It - 3.5K, M

In an AU where the Augurey is born seventeen years earlier, a prophecy remains. Though some things shall never happen, the tally of death remains the same.

Pé na Tábua - 3.5K, T+

Bellatrix wants more from life and she has but one chance to get what she desires. She is not wasting it, so she must make an impression tonight.

And last but not least, for the Bellamort shippers

Harvest Moon - 3.5K, M

A very special birthday is celebrated during the First Wizarding War. Warning for explicit murder and torture of both adults and children, as well as a hint of lemon zest (It's Bellamort, people, what else)

in the smallest pieces (there was still us) - 5K total, T+/M

30 Bellamort little bits Prompts as chapter titles

There's no stopping your plans and those slow hands - 20K, M

AU! Arranged Marriage Bellatrix expected to be married to Rodolphus soon after graduation. However, a certain wizard has returned to Britain, and all that was planned is now uncertain.

#women of the house of black #fic fest #fic rec #hp fanfic #bellatrix black #narcissa black #andromeda black #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa malfoy #andromeda tonks #self promo #there are so many links in this thing i'm afraid i'll crash the post #fuck it we ball

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weirderscience · 1 year

Note

spring and a storm? 👀👀👀

yea its a placeholder name for the story im developing out of my dhmis roleswap au. name taken from the tally hall song bc it was also the name for the playlist i made for the au a while back hdgofhfgfhfghfh

#story: spring and a storm #dhmis roleswap au #<- for blog tagging reasons not general tag reasons sorry anyone searching #labz.txt

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gmanwhore · 1 year

Note

Three songs for each of the Beatrice in the Cult Of Dyonisus AU

Detective(THH)! Beatrice:

Lotta True Crime by Penelope Scott

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy

Ain't It Fun? By Paramore

Lucky Student! Beatrice:

I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy

Bust Your Kneecaps by Pompamoose

The Main Character by Will Wood

Detective(V3)! Beatrice:

Everything Stays from Adventure Time

Despair by Leo

Me and My Husband by Mitski

YO REAL

Uhhmmm

Lucky Student Orchid:

Be Nice to Me-The Front Bottoms Oh Klahoma-Jack Stauber I/Me/Myself-Will Wood

Gamer Orchid:

It's Alright- Mother Mother Spring and a Storm-Tally Hall I don't want to set the World on Fire-The Ink Spots

Supreme Leader Orchid:

Burn Him Down!- Kishch Club All Dolled Up-The Orion Experince 6up 5oh Cop-out (Pro/Con)-Will Wood

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jesterjamz · 3 years

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we have so much left to sing, there's a storm for every spring, all you see & you & me became from a star!

look! thats a comic! :0

[reblogs encouraged!]

#jesters art lmao #tally hall #tally hall magical girl au #mr moon #spring #storm #i am proud of this. man.

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emeraldenha · 2 years

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LOVE - LOVE.

pairing: tennis player!sunghoon x fem!tennis player!reader | genre: sports au, high school au, enemies to lovers, fluff | w/c: +3.9k words | warnings: cursing, it's been a long time since I've played so I apologize for any technical inaccuracies lol

click here to check out the Game On! series masterlist!

*additional note: this is the written format of sunghoon's imagine, click HERE to return to the original version.

you wouldn't say you're the most competitive person on earth, but it sure seems like it when it comes to park sunghoon.

the two of you were constantly at each other's throats and there was no denying the fact. you couldn’t even call it a normal interaction with sunghoon if you weren't competing over something, no matter how trivial.

betting to see who could score higher on a test, projecting personal vendettas during class debates, and even racing to see which one of you could be first in line at lunch, though most importantly, it was about who could win the most tennis matches.

as the both of you were respectively on the girl’s and boy’s tennis team, that was your biggest opportunity to earn bragging rights. you and sunghoon even kept sticky notes with tally marks on how many achievements each of you have acquired. they were posted on the inside of your locker doors — which made it easier to compare them considering that your lockers miraculously happened to be placed right next to each other.

to put it simply, your relationship with him is anything but matured and civilized.

and it's not like you and sunghoon are star players either. the both of you are more so equally average at the sport, meaning that you’ve formed some deep rooted beef for the hell of it.

well, you did it for shits and giggles. for sunghoon, not so much.

it all started when you were first years.

the weather was extremely humid one day during a joint practice with the boy’s team and you were starting to feel exhausted under the scorching hot sun. when it was your turn to play in a singles match, you were going really strong at first, but then the fatigue took over you halfway in.

your opponent hit the ball to the opposite side of your court, making you run to the other side with every last bit of strength you could muster. so with determined efforts, you swing as hard as you possibly can. your grasp on the handle of your tennis racket accidentally slips mid-swing, and like a scene in slow-mo, it coincidentally hits sunghoon right in his back while he's playing on the court adjacent to yours.

and from that moment on, a rivalry was born.

to no one's surprise, sunghoon was the initiator.

it was now your second year of high school, and if anything, the rivalry has only intensified. that stayed true until the season of spring, when sunghoon is faced with a dilemma.

due to trying to keep up with his studies, sunghoon was majorly slacking during tennis practice. he needed decent grades to stay on the team anyways.

sunghoon was never fond of studying, leading him to work his ass off to compensate for all his assessments and procrastinated projects. it was safe to say that he was struggling, badly.

and he needed all the help he could get if he wanted to be ready for the spring tennis tournament next month. he needed to beat you, obviously, since the two of you were always so neck and neck according to those damn sticky notes in your lockers.

though it's also maybe because his parents will make him quit if he doesn't start pulling in results that'll be worthy of at least a partial scholarship.

“jay, please I am begging you! I'll do anything!”

“I already told you I can't, sunghoon. I have a lot on my plate not even including school and the tournament. I'm sorry.”

sunghoon sighs at another failed attempt to convince jay, his only friend and fellow teammate, to get on board with some one-on-one extra practice.

“can't you ask someone else from the team? I'm sure there has to be someone that'd be willing to helping you.”

“I can't ask them! most of the guys are getting extra tutoring right now and I don't want to be a bother. plus, I'm not really close with any of them so it'd be pretty awkward, right?”

jay laughs, “you're such a lone wolf.”

speaking of lone wolves, it was actually quite comedic how you and sunghoon portrayed completely opposite demeanors outside of your rivalry.

sunghoon was, in truth, extremely antisocial and hated speaking to others unless it was absolutely necessary. you, on the other hand, was someone known for being very quiet and introverted due to your terrible case of social awkwardness.

it was like you were two separate people when it came to your childish animosity against one another.

jay thinks for a moment before suggesting, “why don’t you ask someone from the girl’s team?”

see, that was an even bigger issue.

all the girls on the team like to gatekeep you because of your rather sweet and shy personality, causing you to become the baby bird that they took under their wing.

not to mention, to add even more fuel to the fire, he'd always make fun of how nobody cared about the girl’s tennis team just to spite you (which you like to think is not true but the school's negligence towards your team really shows).

but sunghoon can shove his words up his ass because the boy’s tennis team isn't treated much better!

moving on, conclusion is: the entire girl’s team hates him.

which is why sunghoon says the girl's team isn't much of a better option either.

“...what about y/n? you talk about her all the time. aren't you guys like — I don't know — frenemies or some shit like that?”

and sunghoon's all like take the friends out of frenemies and that's what we are and continues babbling about his hatred for you once jay says that he thought it was all lighthearted teasing.

“but didn't you say she was your type before she hit you in the back with a tennis racket?”

“okay but—”

sunghoon begins another one of his lengthy monologues though it's all essentially irrelevant because it's just him giving bullshit excuses about how he was delusional to think you were cute before he knew how much of a devil you could be.

and jay's just telling him to calm down and that it's either go to y/n or practice with the wall.

sunghoon, in the midst of his passionate rant, stands on his feet and goes “just watch! I'll prove it to you. I'm going to ask her for help, and she's going to laugh in my face and say no. why? because we hate each other! h-a-t-e.”

jay simply raises an eyebrow, “so you won't even try asking your own teammates but you'll ask y/n?”

“shut up!”

sunghoon's blood easily boils as he stomps away with the tips of his ears bright red, making jay smirk before moving on with his day.

sunghoon doesn't have the courage to even approach you until he's hit peak desperation, which is almost three days later after his conversation with jay when he gets chewed out that same afternoon for lacking proper form on his backhand swings and he can feel every last ounce of sanity leaving his body.

so, while suppressing the urge to curl up into a ball and cry, he slips a note into your locker saying to meet him outside the courts after school.

when you unfold the torn piece of notebook paper lying on top of one of your textbooks, you're thoroughly surprised.

was this another one of sunghoon's pranks? if that's a possibility, should I ditch him just to be safe?

well, curiosity killed a cat, and it would surely kill you too because you were dying to know the reason behind that note.

however, it definitely isn't anything like what you were expecting.

“you—”

there's no words that can quite describe the overwhelming confusion you feel in this moment as you continue to stutter out.

“you want me to help you practice for the upcoming tennis tournament?”

sunghoon purses his lips, swallowing his pride before hiding a quick 'yes' in his cough.

you can't help but ask him the obvious question: why?

not only did he like to remind you on a daily basis that he despised your entire being, but it's not like you're that great at the sport either.

“because everyone else is busy and you're my last resort.”

you roll your eyes, “geez, way to flatter your so-called 'last resort,' park. very persuasive if you ask me.”

sunghoon clicks his tongue at your sarcasm, “glad you think so. are you going to do it or not?”

“sure, I'll help you.” you shrug so nonchalantly and sunghoon's in pure shock because it can't be that easy. “but what's in it for me?”

there it is.

sunghoon sighs, having seen it coming, “name your price.”

at first, you were only joking, but sunghoon caving in without even starting an argument beforehand was a sign that he was in deep, deep shit.

insinuating that he means business.

“I want free lunch for each day we practice until the tournament, and keep in mind, I'm on a very specific eating regimen.”

he scoffs, “free lunch? I’m not made of money.”

“you don't have to agree. I can just leave and—”

“never mind, I'll do it.”

and with that being settled, you tell him to get his money ready because the deal is on and there is no backing out now.

not wasting any time, you immediately tell sunghoon to meet back at the courts the next day. there's an uncomfortable tension in the air (as expected) so the two of you don't stall for long.

you start off with a couple stretches and simple drills, progressing into some warm ups of casually hitting the ball back and forth.

it's painfully silent so you think of something to say that will lighten the mood.

a chuckle escapes your throat, “you know, I can’t even remember the last time we’ve actually played against each other like this before.”

“I can. it was last year two months into the first semester and I won.”

you can only scratch your head. after that dry comment, you throw the thought of even attempting to be nice out the window.

especially when he continues to get on your last nerve, shouting backhanded remarks including but not limited to ‘since when were you not complete shit at serving?’ and 'congratulations for winning the first set, y/n! you usually always lose in the beginning. what was the probability on that again? ah yes, one in three!'

you make sunghoon's life a living hell for the following two weeks.

practice is so grueling that he wants to bury his body in vat of ice, you critiquing his every move on the court or during the next day over in the passing period where you inevitably meet at your lockers. sunghoon also learned the hard way that you wouldn't settle for anything other than your very specific eating regimen.

“you’re the worst” is what you recall him saying while handing you what felt like your millionth insanely detailed lunch order.

you smirked, “yet look who came to me begging.”

“last resort,” he reminded you.

“if you really loathed the idea of practicing with me so much, you would've dusted off the good ol' tennis ball machine, big boy.”

you got him there.

it takes an explanation from jay one day in class about how his best friend is on the verge of an ugly mental breakdown that you realize maybe you're being a little too harsh on the guy, which officially marks the day you decide to shed some mercy on park sunghoon.

“what's this?”

“it's gatorade, dumbass.”

“yeah, I know that,” he retorts, holding back what would be his fifth eye roll of the evening. “but why are you giving it to me?”

“you've been working hard,” you mutter begrudgingly, finding the tennis court bench particularly more interesting than sunghoon's curious gaze. “I just thought I'd do you a solid and save you the dollar-fifty since my lunch meals have been draining your savings account. don't think too much into it.”

you quickly spin on your heel and walk away to do some solo warms up, not noticing sunghoon popping open the cap of the gatorade bottle, unable to suppress a soft smile.

the remaining two weeks are surprisingly civil, internally confusing both you and sunghoon alike. it was like crossing unknown territory.

you had never gotten to know sunghoon outside of the microseconds he spent tormenting you. then before you can even process, you got to uncover the nicer side of him that you didn't know existed.

doing small deeds when you were in a bad mood, cracking an unsarcastic joke during practice, not complaining at every given opportunity, it was definitely out of the ordinary.

you invite him out to dinner a couple nights before the tournament, excusing the kind gesture by saying there was a new restaurant opening nearby and you just didn't want to check it out by yourself.

that statement was true to an extent.

you could've asked your teammate. in fact, it was one of your teammates that informed you about the restaurant in the first place.

but your deal with sunghoon was slowly coming to an end now that the tournament was right around the corner, and never in a million years would you think to utter these words, but you actually enjoyed spending time with him.

you're eating what you ordered along with some side dishes sunghoon wanted to split, striking up conversation with a question that has been sitting in the back of your mind.

“no, but really. why do you want to work yourself to death so badly? it’s not even our last year where we have to worry about entrance exams and the last of high school tennis tournaments. it’s just another spring.”

he breathily chuckles, “it’s not that deep. I just want to get ahead of you.”

“and you think you’re achieving this by training with me…?”

and that’s when he finally gets off his chest that his parents are making him quit if he doesn’t show improvement.

“I don't want to quit tennis. I may not be that good at it, but it's the only thing I have going on for me until I figure out what I actually want to do with my life.”

“don't think like that,” you frown. “I can tell that you're really passionate when you play; you always put in 110 percent. it may not be something you do forever, but there's nothing wrong with putting time into something that makes you happy. plus, the extra training has actually been working to your benefit. you've been improving like crazy! your hard work won't go to waste, I promise you.”

he gently lays his hand over yours from across the table, “thanks for cheering me up. I know it must be weird to comfort your annoying arch nemesis that you hate.”

“it's not weird. sure, you can be annoying sometimes, but it's kind of endearing,” you laugh. “and for the record, I never actually hated you.”

sunghoon awkwardly joins in on your laughter, “oh... haha, me neither.”

“you don't have to lie.”

and when sunghoon questions why you’ve been playing along all this time, the only thing you say is “have you seen how much my win rate has gone up since we’ve started competing to see who could get the most wins?”

he laughs but he doesn't know why he's feeling a little disappointed. like it's not because you're actually in love with him and have been secretly wanting to get closer?

and that's when he realizes two things: one, that his ego has been bruised, and two, that he may have somehow developed a very tiny not so tiny crush on you.

which is what leads sunghoon to go to team captain heeseung for advice.

he and heeseung weren't that close — since sunghoon only clings onto jay twenty-four seven — but heeseung was an amiable third year in a long term relationship with his girlfriend therefore making him the best option in sunghoon's eyes.

“so what you're telling me is that you're finally putting an end to this petty feud you've created because you’ve decided to catch feelings?”

“well, don't put it like that!” sunghoon whines, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.

heeseung eyes the boy suspiciously, “but did you seriously not have a crush on her this entire time? I thought the whole 'I hate your fucking guts' thing was just your form of flirting.”

sunghoon’s face wrinkles in repulsion, “what even made you come to that ridiculous conclusion?”

“dude, it's obvious! come on, at least admit that you were a little in denial — okay, okay, stop glaring at me. here, I'll even give you an example umm... got it! remember that one time? you once made fun of her all day for losing a practice match against another school that she cried, and when you felt bad, you snuck a teddy bear in her locker the next day.”

“...do people know about that?”

heeseung comes clean right then and there about how jay tends to air his drama to the entire team when he gets fed up with his best friend's antics (which was all the time) and sunghoon has never felt more mortified.

“don't be embarrassed,” heeseung smiles. “it was cute!”

at the comment, sunghoon still can't help but bury his head in his hands, taking a second to compose himself.

“okay, whatever. I'm confessing to her after the spring tournament. yeah, I'll do that.”

“good luck, bro,” heeseung gives him an encouraging pat on the back. “I hope everything works out.”

and all sunghoon can think about is that he hopes so too.

it's d-day, the spring tennis tournament.

you sign in at the outdoor table set up near the front of the venue when you feel a buzz from the pocket of your sports jacket. it was a message from sunghoon, a simple text that read 'good luck loser :)'

you giggle and type back a similar reply before slipping your phone into your tennis bag. the both of you were scheduled to play at the exact same time so you most likely wouldn't see him until you finish.

you stick with your parents who came to support and talk to some of your teammates in the meantime.

right when you're done playing later on in the day, you rush to the court where sunghoon's playing and see that it's almost over, the scoring in sunghoon's favor.

he spots you watching him and smirks as he serves one last time before winning the entire match.

he shakes hands with his opponent and collects his things, running over to you immediately when he's done.

you clap once he's standing in front of you, “you won!”

“what about you? how did your match go?”

“I won too! we did it!”

you hug sunghoon out of excitement and it takes an painstakingly long moment of realization to pull away once you see that you're hugging the life out of him.

“sorry,” you apologize, shoving you hands into your skirt pockets.

“n-no, it's fine.”

he's about to ask if he can tell you something important, but before he can, someone taps you on your shoulder.

you turn around and it's jungwon, the cute first year that played for a neighboring school. you always saw him on the small set of bleachers watching your matches.

he briefly congratulates you on your win to which you thank him for his sincere compliments, while sunghoon is quietly standing behind you with his arms crossed.

“can I talk to you?”

you nod, a bit confused, “sure, what about?”

jungwon coyly rubs the sides of his arms before clarifying, “ah, in private I mean.”

most people had deserted the area after the matches ended, leaving sunghoon the only other person within proximity.

sunghoon lets out a dramatic sigh, “I'll leave.”

that's what he says, but really, he only swings behind a nearby corner and stiffens his body like a tree.

you turn back to jungwon once you think sunghoon has left and detect movement from the corner of your eye.

he has a small bouquet of daisies in his hands — where they came from? you have no clue — and peppermint breath spray tucked into his back pocket. a sweat towel is casually draped over his right shoulder, the boy's baby blue tennis uniform complimenting his newly dyed dark blue hair, and he confesses to you.

he gushes about how much he admires your strong determination and work ethic, that he's always found you pretty and loves cheering you on during your games.

sunghoon wants to throw up in his mouth listening to that whole speech.

your reaction isn’t very stellar either, but that’s rather because you’re at a loss of words. never in your life have you ever been confessed to before, and it was even more nerve racking to be thinking of ways to let the poor boy down gently.

you’re so nervous that your hands are shaking, which in sunghoon's mind, makes him only makes want to walk right up and grab them.

sunghoon had almost forgotten that this is how you normally act around people.

you shakily return the flowers jungwon had given you, “I'm sorry...”

jungwon, despite feeling dejected, takes the rejection well. though sunghoon isn't really paying attention because he spaces out due to the relief entering his system at the fact he still had a chance with you.

eventually, he comes back to reality once jungwon's footsteps can be heard leaving the area, realizing that he has approximately five seconds to get the fuck out of there because you're about to walk in the opposite direction of jungwon, which happens to be right where sunghoon has been eavesdropping.

though while trying to back away undetected, sunghoon clumsily trips over his own feet, revealing himself from his hiding spot. you snap you heads towards the sound, eyes widening in surprise.

for a moment, the two of you can only stare at each other in shock.

“how long have you uhhh... been standing there?”

“what do you mean?” sunghoon pretends to look around as if he had bumped into you by coincidence. “I just got here. why, did something happen?”

an unconvinced expression sits on your face, “you heard all that, didn't you?”

“heard what?”

“that I'm going out with yang jungwon next weekend.”

“what?” sunghoon's eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets. “but I thought you just turned him down!”

he had easily taken the bait, falling right into your trap.

you click your tongue, “sunghoon, you really are so bad at lying to the point that it's sad.”

sunghoon's cheeks are burnt a fiery red as he sulks, “so just to be sure, you're not going out with yang jungwon next weekend, right?”

you snort, “don't tell me you're jealous?”

“and if I am?”

there's a long pause, and for the first time since the tennis racket incident, you look flustered in front of him.

your hair curtains the sides of your face and you’re frozen like a statue, nervously nibbling at your lower lip, and sunghoon thinks that you look so breathtakingly adorable.

I really do have a crush on this girl, huh?

sunghoon clears his throat, swirling a patch of dirt on the ground with the tip of his tennis shoe as he diverts his gaze there like it's the most fascinating thing on earth.

“I may not have flowers or anything fancy like that, but I like you.”

and a wide grins spreads across your face as you tell him those last three words back.

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