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quinnylouhughesx43 · 9 hours

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𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐥𝐡𝟒𝟑

summary: requested by @toasttt11 : “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that makes me want to treat them like they’re royalty, like they do” in which luke yaps out about his girl to jack, luke hasn’t told his girl exactly how much he likes her, jack takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: use of y/n, couple uses of profanity, really it’s just luke being a massive s!mp for his girl so fluff fluff fluff, jack meddling (again)

word count: 2.25k

notes: thank you toast for this prompt request I had a lot of writing this!!! i didn’t think i would finish it so quickly but the tournament i was supposed to ref got cancelled so im stuck in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write… hopefully its good because i already wrote a 6 year in the future pt 2

As Luke slid the key into the lock, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled him up like a cup of his favorite grandma’s homemade hot chocolate after a long day of playing on the outdoor rink as a kid. He had just returned home from his date with a girl he had become absolutely smitten with. Her name was y/n, and she had this alluring way about her that made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. It was in the way she laughed, how she would talk about her family, it reminded Luke of the way he talked about his family, it was the way she smiled when she talked about her favorite things. To Luke everything about her was perfect.

And now, here he was, back at his shared apartment with his middle older brother, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Jack, had spotted him as he was about to enter the apartment through the windows and was gingerly waiting to ask him what had him so smiley.

Luke routinely wears this tight lip, apprehensive smile but after being around her or simply just the thought of her was enough to bring out his genuine smile. “Who or what has you so giddy? You look like a child who was just told they were given unlimited access to a toy store for the next year.” Jack questioned. Scampering around their small living room to stay right on his younger brother’s heels. Attempting to insure he didn’t miss Luke’s answer. Luke didn't even need to think about it before he replied, "I’ve been seeing someone...and let’s say, if someone would have asked me what I wanted them to put together in a female, she is it. Wholly everything." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for Jack. Luke’s heart was still beating rapidly even after being away from y/n for half an hour now. He was truly down bad.

Jack's eyebrows raised, his mouth agape. Not believing what he just heard quite yet, "Wait, you mean you're in a relationship with someone?" He asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Luke shook his head no, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. Jack narrowed his eyebrows as if to question him why no, but didn’t just yet. Sometimes dating exclusively just doesn’t happen. "And this girl, she's...she's really special?" He prodded. Luke nodded again only a yes this time, and more confidently. "Yeah, Jack. Y/n is really special. I don't think I've ever met another girl that makes me want to treat her like she's royalty all the time, like she does." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I think...I think I might be falling in love with her." The silence that followed was deafening. Jack beginning to think Luke just might be serious.

Jack looked at Luke, attempting to gauge if he was serious or if he was just being his typical sarcastic self. But when he studied Luke’s eyes and noticed the sincerity shining through and the emotions held in each word he spoke that this definitely was not a joke. There was no way this was just another one of Luke's short flops either. He was serious about this girl.

For a short lived moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy that the youngest was seemingly finding himself in a serious relationship. Only he quickly reminded himself that it wasn't like he was necessarily someone who had truly went out and tried to find himself someone special either. It also wasn't like Luke had ever been the kind to want anything that was deemed as just a good time or an easy lay. However, he also wasn’t one to talk about love, girlfriends, and all that over the top mushy stuff. Those topics were more of Quinn’s realm of interest. Jack had never thought he'd hear any of this from his younger brother. At least he didn’t expect it fresh out of his rookie year when women throw themselves at him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, moving to sit on the couch next to Jack, emptying out his pockets onto the table, all while being under Jack's intense studying stare. "What?" He asked, not entirely sure how to react to his brother's silence. “So, you want to treat her like royalty?” Jack reiterated Luke’s previous comment. Luke nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. Luke dropped his face into his hand for a few moments thinking how he’s going to approach his response before he spoke.

Jack took his chance and grabbed Luke’s phone. He knew his brother all toowell. He knew he would likely never be brave enough to spill out whatever confession he is about word vomit to him out again, let alone to y/n. He quickly shot off a text to her about it being from Jack, and that he was calling her but needed her to listen to the conversation, not talk to him unless he talks to her. Does Jack feel bad for tricking his baby brother and this girl? Oh definitely. But he thinks it will help him, he hopes it will at least. He’s grateful that Luke even mentioned her name.

“Yes I do want to treat her right. I don’t know her past relationships, and I’m not sure that they even matter? If it is her and I, I hope she never thinks of him or them again. I want to give her every reason to forget they ever even existed. I want to make her world be an entirely different place than it is now. Make it different. Better. Because she deserves it. So. Yeah Jack, yes, I want to be the guy who opens the door for her, who treats her like she's the most important person in the room, shit the most important person in this world. I want to make her feel special, you know?" He shrugged, looking up for the first time before meeting his brother's gaze. Thank goodness, Jack had the phone discreetly placed. Luke could continue his rambling which Jack knew by the way his eyes were glassed and his pupils dilated so large, “Go ahead, continue talking about her. You’ve stayed quiet about her for a while apparently, let’s hear it.” Jack wasn’t that interested or invested in Luke’s overtly smitten relationship but he was happy seeing his baby brother so happy.

Luke let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips. "Y/n is amazing, Jack. She's funny, and so damn smart, I am talking mom smart. I have never met anyone else as smart as mom until her, and...and the best part, get this she had no idea who I was before I introduced myself. I was just Luke to her, I wasn’t Luke Hughes, New Jersey Devil. I was just Luke again. I didn’t have to overcome some preconceived idea she already had of me. I only had to worry about the one she would form of me when we first met. She knows now that I play for the Devils, I wanted to be open about it but it was so nice to meet with out having to fight for showing someone that I am more than hockey. So for her, although it has only been a few true dates and a couple times seeing each other I want to show her that to me, she's as important as a princess." Luke paused, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was imagining the moments of treating her, loving her. "She hates being paid for, but I want to give her everything she desires, needs, I don’t want to do it because I’m fortunate enough to be able to. I want to because she never puts herself first. If she’ll be with me, one day she’ll be the first in my universe.” Luke turned his to look at his older brother, hoping that he was getting through to him. He sure was. Jack was nothing short of wonderstruck.

"She's a lucky girl, you know that? To have someone like you who genuinely cares for her, who sees beyond the superficial layers and goes deep, who wants to make her feel so special." Luke nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No. You’re wrong. I am the lucky one. I just hope she knows how I feel. I don't want to mess this up." Jack reached over and pulled Luke into him by the shoulder, a normal gesture of affection from the older brother. "Just be you, little bro. That's all you can do, seems it already worked for you. Right? Mr. Just Luke. Question is though, have you even began to tell her any of this?” Jack asked him possibly the most important question of the entire conversation.

Luke paused for a moment, his expression turning down from the previous glowing high. "Not yet. Us Hughes boys do have a track record of doing or saying dumb shit too early. I don't want to put any pressure on her to reciprocate the same feelings. I just want her to know that she makes me happy, that she's special to me. But I want her to feel it, see it in my actions, without having to say it." He sighed, resting his head back against the couch. "But I know I should tell her, right?”

Jack flashed him a smile, retracting his his arm from over his shoulders and dropping it over to pat Luke's knee. "Yeah, you should. But you've got this, little bro. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're being genuine. She'll see it. And if you're still worried about it, well, I'll always be here to help you. Like now.” Jack revealed that he had stolen Luke’s phone off the coffee table when he had dropped his head earlier in the conversation. Y/n listened silently hearing his verbose words he shared over their time together. Her heart palpitated a few times over things he had said specifically about her. No one had ever talked about her the way Luke did. It made her feel ways she was unsure how to put into words just yet.

A few moments of shared unutterable silence spread across the three of them when Jack had announced that y/n was on the phone and she inevitably had heard Luke’s emotional admiration for her, y/n’s voice finally broke through the speaker of the phone.

"Luke, I'm so glad you told him that. Or well both of us that.. It's just... well, you know... I am just me, a normal person. There’s no need to overplay it silly boy." Her voice was soft, almost shy like it was the night Luke and her me. Probably because Jack was listening, but there was still the hint of that playfulness that Luke had started to love. "I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you see past all of my quirky interests and...” She paused for just a split second “Can I come off speaker phone? Uhm.. I really just want Luke to hear this.” Jack handed Luke his phone with a smug I told you so look plastered on his face. “Hey, it’s just you and I now.” Luke told her, even getting up off couch to allow space between him and his nosey brother. Luke had a smile so big spread across his face. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. His baby brother was growing up on him. Y/n continued, “and most of all I like that you're just Luke for me, and that you felt comfortable enough to still tell me so quickly about your life when you could’ve kept me in the dark for however long you wanted to. You may be this hockey star, but for me you’re just Luke. I mean, I know you're amazing at hockey and all, but that doesn’t define who you are in life. You are so much more. You're funny and sweet and thoughtful, and I just... I just can't help but feel lucky that I get to spend time with you. And I hope you know that." She paused, her voice catching a little, and Luke could swear he could hear her sniffling. "So, um, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want you to know that I feel the same way.” Luke’s face kept flushing deeper shades of red it was nearly burgundy by the time y/n was finished talking. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence without stammering entirely over his words. He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened their text thread.

“Can I come to your place? I think we should finish talking in person?”

Luke pressed send and heard her cute giggle through the phone speaker. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.” The two shared their goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “Jack. You’re dead when I get back, but thank you.” Luke said to his brother scurrying around the living room for his shirt he discarded earlier and his sneakers.

Luke grabs his keys and wallet from the bowl in the table by the door. Murmuring a goodbye to Jack and essentially leaps out the door. He has a very little talking he wants to complete and a lot of affection to start giving. Y/N is anticipating his arrival because first thing she plans on doing is nabbing a kiss from the sweetest boy on this planet. Both of them riddled with anticipation to see each other. If they turn out not to be meant for each other, then there is no way soulmates exist. Luke and y/n are two halves apart that become one when close to one another.

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luvvixu · 22 hours

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mind over matter pt. 4

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE

previous / masterlist / next

the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.

panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.

“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.

you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.

“no…” was only his answer.

“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!

“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.

what do you mean you supposed?!

“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.

“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.

“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.

you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”

the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.

how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;

“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.

and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”

“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.

“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.

satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.

meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.

“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.

“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.

like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.

“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.

maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.

“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.

you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.

“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.

you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.

“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.

“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.

opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”

that alone made him shut up.

satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.

clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.

it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!

“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.

you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.

“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.

meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.

he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.

the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.

and after that, he finally lets you go inside.

the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.

satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.

“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.

you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.

“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.

the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.

“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.

“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.

this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.

the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.

his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.

and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.

shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.

“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.

“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.

“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.

satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.

on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.

but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.

you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.

“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.

once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.

satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.

it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.

because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.

your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.

“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.

ah yes, baby names.

that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.

that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.

you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.

and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…

“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.

“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?

“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.

you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”

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[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru #anime #gojo satoru x reader #fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #luvvixu #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst #angst #arrange marriage

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doobean · 24 hours

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SMOKE SIGNALS ─ BAROU SHOUEI

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Barou seems to have enough of your godawful dating life. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve reached your breaking point, too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: explicit content ﾉ 18+ ﾉ fem!afab!reader ﾉ friends to lovers ﾉ idiots in love ﾉ roommates AU ﾉ barou centric ﾉ soft love making bc he's a CLB duh ﾉ narration heavy ﾉ kinda mean to reader but it all means well ﾉ first time/virginity loss ﾉ dry humping ﾉ fingering ﾉ missionary ﾉ no beta we die like men wc: 8.5k (longest smut fic i've written thus far whew) a/n: hello friends i am back hehe trying out a new format :3 and also a standalone barou fic because wow i've always paired this guy w nagi sjakhdkajdfh pls give me more hair down barou im begging on my fuckin knees

“Promise me that you won’t get mad,” you peek around the door frame, head poking into Barou’s room.

“The hell did you do this time,” Barou tries to keep his voice casual, red eyes flickering from his computer monitor to your face, then back again. Frankly, he has no idea what you’re possibly referring to, but whenever you’re vague like this, it’s usually not a good thing.

Your brows knit together and you clench the sides of the door. “You gotta promise me, Shouei.”

It has to be something bad, at least in his mind, because you’re trying really hard to look convincing. He can make out the small fidgeting motions by just how hard your knuckles are gripping against the door frame. Barou exhales and pauses, and it’s for a long, rare moment. He’s always the type of guy to say whatever comes to mind, and it’s usually a whole bunch of unfiltered harsh truths and things that others don't want to hear. It’s rare that Barou is actually picking his words carefully and, of course, that catches your attention even more.

“Shouei…”

After a few seconds, Barou manages to narrow the possibilities down to three.

The first answer being the obvious choice: you’re planning to invite a bunch of your friends over for a last minute party. Your friends are loud, messy, and a bit too friendly towards him despite the numerous times he’s yelled at them. Whatever, he’s used to this by now. Afterall, he’s been living with you at this apartment for well over a year now—four years if he counts the amount of times you’ve crashed at his dorm during his time in high school and university.

The second outcome might be directly related to the second half: you’re moving out. Could it be a new job opportunity with better pay? Hell, he’s seen you hunched over and obsessively scrolling through multiple job posting sites these past few months that he’s had a feeling that the day will come sooner or later. But it wouldn’t be something that Barou could see himself getting frustrated over.

Which only leads to the third option: you’ve somehow brought home a stray animal and expect him to be okay with it—

“Okay, dude, you’re seriously starting to freak me out.”

Barou snorts and rolls his eyes. “Can’t promise if I don’t know what it is,” and motions at the empty space by the edge of his bed. “Whatever you brought back home, though, it’s a no. You know I have a cat allergy.”

“I wouldn’t bring an animal home without telling you! Plus, that’s such a lie because you had a cat growing up,” you flush brightly and glower. Needless to say, you end up shuffling past the door frame, into full view, and Barou quickly realizes what you’re referring to, and why you’re acting so agitated.

Breath quickly catches in Barou’s lungs. He averts his gaze, looks back, and clenches his jaw—all in a matter of seconds.

“You’re… dressed up,” he’s pretty sure his face is all contorted, because you’re suddenly acting meek again.

“Don’t give me that look,” your hands fly up and do a poor job covering your chest and exposed thighs.

A form fitting dress is the last thing he’d ever imagined you in, then again, you were never the type to actively show off your feminine outfits in front of him—lounging around in nothing but sweats and an oversized tee is a sight he’s more used to—until now.

“I don’t normally see you wearing stuff like this,” he tries to make the words casual and dismissive, though he’s very aware that he’s just admitted that he pays close attention to you. And, for whatever reason, he has the burning urge to tear himself away, before the tiny voice in his head starts taunting him to go even lower. “Why are you even showing me?”

“Y’know, I had an explanation to give you, but now you sound borderline pissed,” you begin to tip toe back behind the door frame, slowly.

“I always sound borderline pissed,” Barou adds. He’s paused his task at the desk, computer monitor on mute, and the room is exceptionally quiet, except for the low, hesitant creaks from the floor panels. After another moment of studying your face, he exhales and shakes his head. “Let me guess… a date?”

“Oh,” you look momentarily surprised, or maybe that’s just his imagination. You revert back almost immediately though. “How’d you figure it out so quickly?”

If it weren’t for those damn career boosting sites, the second most used apps would be those stupid dating ones.

Both of your parents work all the time, business partners even, so it’s been mainly the two of you left to your own devices at a young age. Barou didn’t have many friends growing up, outside of you and his sisters, if he can even count them.

You’re generally introverted by nature, but somehow you seem to attract people who seem to lack common boundaries and have a strange affinity to soccer. Of course, that includes him, your friends, and all the dates you try and bring back—Barou never lets them go past the shoe rack and, thankfully, your dates always seemed too afraid to object.

Your parents think that it’s a blessing of some sort. That he’s your personal guardian or a shitty guard dog to keep out unwanted men. Something about keeping you safe, another comment about being a good future son-in-law. Conversations with your relatives always tend to steer from topics of career goals, the amount of savings you have, to relationship status, and—ultimately—hey, Shouei’s available, right? Of course, you two don’t have that type of relationship.

Barou is observant, despite what others might think. Observant enough to know that you get uncomfortable when the idea of the two of you being together comes up. You tend to go quiet, then flustered, all before storming off to your own room. Maybe that’s why you spend all your energy into those dating apps—a weird rebellion phase of sorts.

He wants to chastise you, hoping it’ll lead towards you finding another pastime that consists of less unimpressive dicks. Perhaps picking up more books would be well suited for you. Though, upon recent apartment cleanings, he’s stumbled upon plenty of your obscured romance novels. The type of novels that the covers consist of half naked men in cowboy attire with the classic damsel in distress in his arms—Barou doesn’t understand why anyone reads that stuff—piled up all on the living room coffee table.

Scolding you is definitely on top of his to-do list right about now, second to decluttering the fridge. Advising that you can’t blindly trust men on these shitty platforms because god knows what they lie about to get a person’s attention. But he has a feeling that you’ll brush him off, spouting an all too familiar speech that you’ve given him plenty of times before about not being a kid. It’s probably a dumb idea, and he knows that.

So, instead, he shrugs and ignores the anxious buzzing tugging at the back of his mind. “An educated guess.”

“Oh, hm,” you go quiet at that and he isn’t entirely sure why that makes him nervous. “Do I look weird?”

“What?”

You tilt your head. “You’re staring. Like deep in thought.”

So much for keeping his expression neutral.

“Hmph,” Barou snaps his gaze back to his monitor, observing you from its reflection.

His awareness of your dress comes in levels of recognition. First is material: even from the distance he’s sitting, he can tell with a quick eye that it’s from some sort of designer brand. The silk fabric clings to your figure as if it was made for you, worshiping every curve and kissing your features perfectly. Second is how you chose to style it: the adjustments made to your chest is purposeful, making your cleavage the centerpiece while your neckline draws attention to it. Third is his own reaction to it: his mind races to the thought of how unfair everything suddenly feels.

“It’s nothing. It’s just—it’s different from the usual, that’s all.” An awkward beat and, “You don’t look weird.”

You lean back on your heels, body now coming back into view, and there’s a small grin. Looking closer, he sees that you’ve got your makeup and nails done, too.

“What? You’re coming at me for relationship advice now?” Barou asks, after a moment. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Your big mouth always has something to say,” you look at him with quirked brows.

He sighs airily. “Who cares, it’s not like you’ll listen,” then rolls his eyes. It’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but you’re quite literally one of the most stubborn people he’s ever come across.

Barou’s familiar with your on and off dating sprees before, and in the beginning he did loosely hand out some advice—even though most of the information came from all those dumb teen magazines he found in his sisters’ rooms. It’s almost like a damn script by how it plays out: obsess over a mediocre guy, go on a date or two, and be extremely disappointed when they don’t live up to your expectations.

It’s been about three months since your last date, and Barou doesn’t understand how this one might end up any different.

As if you’ve read his mind, you begin to explain, “We’ve been texting for a few days now. He seems super nice over video call, likes to cook, has a stable job—”

“Hate to break it to you, but that’s the bare minimum.”

“Shouei,” you grumble, “be nice.”

He feels his eyes narrow, lips pressing thin. “You planning to bring him back or something?” Barou can’t seem to mask the edge in his voice.

“If everything goes well, then yeah,” you look relatively proud of yourself. “Which is why I’m asking you to not scare him away—you’re capable of doing that, right?”

“It’s not gonna happen regardless,” the words roll out almost too naturally for both of your comfort, “something always goes wrong, anyways.”

Your lips press thin, weight shifting subtly between your feet. “Don’t be such a dick. I’m bringing a guy back this time.”

Barou doesn’t know what to say. What the fuck can he say? All he knows is that this is making him feel more annoyed than usual. You’ve got to be aware of that, right?

You two have fought before, of course. Nothing ever goes well when it deals with two stubborn individuals. Thankfully, none of the arguments have never escalated past mild inconveniences. Barou can’t seem to remember when’s the last time you’ve actually gotten angry, though. He imagines it being similar to his mom, or sisters, and it’s terrifying because you’re giving him that look—one where you’re a comment away from swatting everything off his desk.

His brows draw together for a moment, eyes squinting, before regaining his ground. He bites back his tongue. “Do what you want.”

“So, I take it that you’re not…?”

Barou scoffs, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Why would I be mad? I’m not in charge of you.”

It’s over a late dinner when Barou finally checks his messages. He sees a few notifications under your name, and he pauses. He doesn’t know why he’s hesitating, there’s a strange churning feeling in his stomach and suddenly he’s lost his appetite. Barou flips his phone down at the table before discarding his utensils, and the look Isagi gives him is a weird one.

“Everything alright there?”

“I’m not mad.”

Across from him, Isagi leans against the kitchen counter and laughs. “Didn’t say you were,” he picks at his dinner plate with a tilted head. “So, erm, why did you call me over here again? Something about a problem…? You still haven’t gotten to that part.”

“Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Not a damn problem around in this shithole. Fucking perfect around here,” he’s suddenly hot with anger.

Isagi replies to this with a vague handwave. “If I had to guess, someone’s out on a date, again, and you haven’t done much about it.”

Barou shoots him a scathing glare. Thinks of denying for a moment. Doesn’t. “Why bother asking if you already knew?”

Like him, Isagi is oddly extremely aware of everything and everyone. On and off the playing field. Which probably explains why he’s both the coach and fan favorite of the bunch. And more of a reason why Barou is stuck third in line for most sponsorships, right behind Itoshi Rin. Well, whatever, he was never a people’s pleaser to begin with. Though, it is nice having him around to vent to—if you count offering to cook dinner in tense silence while going over sporting logistics—because Isagi Yoichi doesn’t judge. Unless your name is Kaiser, then that’s a whole different story.

A shrug. “Wanted to hear it from you, though that might’ve taken all night.” It’s not a tease.

No matter how rough and rugged Barou looks, he can’t wipe the knowing smile off of Isagi’s features.

“So,” Isagi continues, “how long before you miss out on your chance? A few months? Days? Right now?”

He lowers the volume on the TV and shoves another bite in. “Most likely never. If anything goes down south, that’ll be on me.”

“You’re thinking about this carefully,” Isagi observes, earning him another annoyed look. “It’s a good thing—you’re usually, uh, headstrong and tenacious most of the time.” It’s kinda a compliment, Barou thinks.

“We live together,” he emphasizes, “that’s different.”

“For how long, though? At this point it feels like you’re doing this to yourself.” The corners of Isagi’s lip raise, just a little. “Have you tried seeing if she likes you back?”

Barou scowls and absently fiddles with his hair, still a bit damp from the shower earlier. “What’s with that question? If I knew then I wouldn’t be inviting you over here, dumbass.”

A beat or two. He stares at the wall for a moment and cracks.

“If she liked me back then I doubt she’d be out right now with some random guy,” Barou hates how whiny his voice sounds. He’s not the type to openly complain, especially not with his feelings like this. With Isagi, however, it seems like he brings that side out of everyone. What a weirdo.

The younger male simply smiles. “Maybe look into her dating history, you might be able to figure out some patterns.”

“Like I’m some sort of masochist.”

“Well, you’re currently spending your Saturday evening watching football highlights with me, and I think that’s telling by itself.”

Barou doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t bother to say anything to that. He just shoves a spoonful of rice in his mouth and half-distractedly finishes watching a previous games’ highlight on the TV. A quarter way through, and he feels himself starting to drift off.

Isagi’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and that’s a surprising relief to Barou. The younger male lets out a small noise, sets his empty plate in the sink, letting water and soap soak it up for a bit, and fishes his phone out. A few seconds and he starts making his way towards the door, gym bag in hand.

“Rin’s asking to see me for something,” he mindlessly explains while slipping on his shoes. “Guess I’m gonna have to pass on keeping you company tonight, bud.” Isagi says this with a bit of playfulness, but he shoots him a look of sympathy when his hand reaches the knob.

It makes Barou flinch, badly. “Go home, dumbass.”

Once Isagi leaves the premises, he goes back to his own devices. Watching sporting highlights soon went stale, so he opted to watch a drama that you’ve been raving about a while back.

It has an interesting start. The main lead somehow paraglides her way into a foreign country and the tall, handsome, and stoic—your words, not his—military officer has to take care of her.

He remembers, when you first discovered the drama, the main actor was all you could talk about. Sure, he’s your typical standard silent, tough guy trope, but you were especially smitten over him.

“The way he looks after her, the yearning and the need, it’s just—” you would wave your body back and forth, at a loss for words.

The ending credits snaps him out of the small lull and, out of curiosity, Barou browses through his social apps and thumbs your handle into the search bar. You guys are mutual friends, so this shouldn’t feel weird. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, he really, really doesn’t care much for what other people do in their spare time. Looking at his own account, there’s only two posts and both of them are cringey gym mirror selfies from several years ago.

So Barou doesn’t really know what to expect when he looks through your recent story highlights.

There’s a picture of a fancy looking latte with an equally fancy looking cheese foam design on top. The guy’s out of the frame, but he can make out an arm with a decked out watch in the corner. Another picture and this time it features a set of flaky chocolate pastries on a square plate with red sauce paired on the side. The third picture makes Barou pause, because it’s a selfie of you and some guy. From appearance alone, the guy is conventionally attractive, but he also has an extremely punchable face. White collared button up shirt, except for the plain fact that it’s wild open and his damn chest hairs are poking out. He’s got his hands around your waist, his stubbled chin pressed extremely close to yours, looking into the camera as if you belonged to him.

He feels his head throbbing, almost full of cotton, and he shuts his phone off, tossing it onto the far end of the couch. Barou doesn’t bother to clean the dishes, at least not yet. He sets his dirty plate aside, letting it soak in the sink alongside with the other bowls. It’s not until after another hot, long shower that Barou starts stress cleaning the apartment.

And, yeah, vacuuming the living room and running the loud dishwasher at nearly midnight is pretty outrageous and, frankly, dramatic—even for someone like him. By the time he’s done destressing, the air wafts with lemon essential oils and a hint of antiseptic scent. Eventually, after everything, he crawls under the blankets and lies still for a long time before the hint of sleep catches up.

It’s one in the morning when he hears you coming home; heels wobbling against the wooden panels, faint mumbling with a drawl, and sounds of keys hitting the small trinket bowl by the front door. He thinks maybe he should go see you, but stops himself halfway. Barou doesn’t know what he’ll do, how he’ll react, if you come back with smeared lipstick stains on your face, or if you smell like musk— like some stupid, rich casanova’s cologne.

Barou’s just about to pull the covers back over his head when a noise from the living room jolts him wide awake. A loud clatter, body hitting a surface, and he snaps his attention away. And, luckily for him, you just smelled like straight alcohol.

“I should’ve never gone out, I should’ve just…” A beat, followed by a series of painful groans.

You’re definitely tipsy from whatever drink that’s in your system. From what Barou can tell, it was strong.

“Did you take anything else?” It’s a rhetorical question but he keeps his voice quiet, low, and observes you from the couch.

You’re half slumped over, limbs hanging all over the place and your trench coat is doing an awful job at covering up your promiscuous dress. Tired exhaustion plagues all over. Barou quickly covers you with a spare throw blanket on the side.

He tries to get you off the couch, as carefully as he can, and you nearly jump out of your skin from the proximity. Your eyes are glazed, mouth slightly dry and slack, and some of your makeup has smudged—whether it’s from the date or the excessive tossing and turning, Barou doesn’t really want to know. What he does know is that you’re close, now actively leaning into his touch, and your eyes meet, and he’s yet again faced with that strange fire rushing through him.

He swears under his breath, lifting you into his arms.

There’s a million things he wants to say, majority of them being half-ass insults and I told you so, but none of that seems appropriate. His face is only inches away from yours. Barou quickly realizes that his mouth has gone dry and his tongue feels heavy. His recent reactions towards you have been… confusing, to say the least.

You stir, hand shooting up to hold your head. “Is he gone?”

“Your shitty date?”

“Mhm,” your head droops to the side. “That asshole…”

He scoffs, and makes a mental note to personally beat up the guy who left you while you’re like this. “He’s not here.”

“Fuck, thank god,” your eyes hover on his neck. It catches him off-guard. You swallow, and a strange expression flicks across your face, a bit unreadable and different from your usual wasted self. “You were right, sorry.”

For a moment, he thinks he’s in a dream; that he’s still in university, still checking up on you in-between his classes and labs—out of courtesy from your family, and being on the receiving end whenever you get your hopes up.

He shuts his eyes and opens them.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Barou hears every heavy thump that his heart makes as he carries you to your room. His eyes keep shifting all over your body, whether he means to or not. Most of it is out of concern, your face looks terribly dazed and you’re warm all over, even if you keep insisting that it was just one drink. You’ve never been a heavy drinker, no matter how many times you tried to train your lack of alcohol tolerance. He wonders if he should let you sleep in what you’re currently wearing but, after quick consideration, you’d probably feel extremely uncomfortable the next day.

You press into the warmth of his shoulder, against his neck, then exhale. “I’m a pretty shitty friend, aren’t I?”

“What?” Barou’s eyes flick down the hall, then back to you.

“Ugh,” you make a face. “You know what I mean. How I’m always so tunnel vision when it comes to shit like this…”

“Then just stop,” he feels his face tightening ever so slightly, the unfiltered words unclogging. “Everytime this happens. Why bother going through with it?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” You laugh a little, and it’s half bitterness, half joy—something a little broken and somehow Barou immediately understands.

He watches, almost morbidly, the way your eyes subtly linger on parts of his body for a moment, before sighing. A hesitant, unspoken conversation stuck in your throat, and all at once, Barou wants to scream.

But he doesn’t.

He feels flames crawling up the back of his neck when you snuggle closer into his arms. Thankfully, before he can further combust, he’s pushing his way into your dimmed bedroom.

Barou takes a careful glance around in the dark, noting the familiar scent of you, the numerous prints that hang from the eggshell colored walls, and the small pile of clothes on your desk chair. He’s only been in your room once before, but that was just to help you settle in, so he’s never really paid attention to your surroundings. Now, though, as he lays you on top of the mattress, he notices everything in this room just screams who you are, and he realizes that maybe he should’ve said his piece earlier to avoid all of this together.

The idea fizzles out when Barou feels you tugging loosely on his wrist before letting it fall against the mattress.

“Shouei,” you call out, reaching for his hand again.

He absolutely hates the way he instantly stops and holds you, cherishing the warmth of your skin. Your fingers shakily curl around his, and Barou can’t help but squeeze back. His heart is thundering against his chest, and he’s making it painfully obvious that his breathing is erratic.

After a moment, he clears his throat. “What are you doing?”

His blood has rushed so high to his head that it’s the only thing he can hear, clogging up in his veins and leaving him feeling like he has to cling onto you for dear life. Barou isn’t quite sure what’s happening here, still disbelieving at the way you’re batting your eyes at him, eyes brimming with tears and lips puckered.

“Stay with me, please,” you mumble.

Barou lets out an airy breath, and hears himself saying your name. He’s so confused by all the fucking emotions hitting him right now, and it doesn’t help the fact that his voice gets so soft and tender when he calls out for you. His hand twitches against yours.

This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, this isn’t—

“You’re drunk,” he finally manages to respond.

His crimson eyes trace your face in the dark, and makes out the shine of wetness on your lips when they part. You lift your eyes, and they instantly hook him in. He resists the urge to lean forward. And, just as instantly, he wants to kneel down, close his eyes, and exist anywhere but this moment.

“I’m not,” you continue and tug him closer, forcing him to sit on the mattress. Your words come out more as hot breath. He definitely smells it but, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re usually not this desperate.

Needless to say, it’s still a concerning fact. “You’re not yourself.”

You squeeze harder, brows furrowed. “I know what I’m doing and what I want.”

Barou tears away from your mouth and glances back into your eyes, studying them closely. You’re still clamped onto his hand, and he knows you’re burning on edge, too. Undoubtedly, he’s half-mast in his pants, and he’s very aware of that, as you slowly rise up, eyeing him with an expression that can only be described as hunger.

“We’ll talk in the morning, idiot.”

“What’s your deal?”

I should be the one asking that.

Barou stares at you for a long moment, The silence is heavy, suffocating. The bed shifts, and in that second, that quiet desperate hope, becomes even more evident. His grip tightens, just a little, and there’s that building headache pulsing through his temple. He really shouldn’t be here, entertaining whatever this is. What he should be doing is sleeping, it’s midnight and, fuck, he has to go to practice tomorrow, but you…

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I am,” his voice is rough when he answers, words dripping with heavy caution. “Even if you aren’t wasted, you’re acting like a real piece of work, right now. None of this shit is funny.”

“I’m not trying to be—I’m being serious,” you reply, but your lips are trembling.

Barou’s stomach lurches and he swallows back a groan, not the pleasure kind. “What do you want me to do?”

Suddenly, you shift restlessly, as if taken aback. “Stay by my side.”

“I know that,” he breathes in, and out. “I asked if there’s anything you want me to do?”

The moonlight creeps past your curtains and coats you in various shades of silver. It’s then, Barou realizes, that he's afraid of what your answer might be. He’s taken care of you hundreds of times before, it’s become second nature for him to look after you, but now this feels foreign—almost daunting when you’re looking just as scared.

But, scared as you are, you lean forward, steadying your palms onto his broad shoulders. It burns his skin at contact, but he steels himself, watching your lips part slowly. Focusing—absolutely fucking focusing—on the way that they move and the damn syllables that come right after.

He feels like dying when the words finally register.

“Kiss me.”

Barou stills, pressing a palm against the mattress and clenches his jaw, running his tongue hard against his teeth. He opens his mouth to reply—and immediately snaps it shut. It’s when you make a small dip in the bed that he recovers, gears running over a hundred miles an hour in his mind. “You want that?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” your eyes wander all over his face and the intensity almost burns his skin. “It’s embarrassing enough that I’m doing it like this…”

Barou stares in awe. His throat feels tight and his chest clenches uncomfortably. “Doing what?”

A frown erupts on your face and you’re visibly frustrated, more flustered. “Why are you choosing tonight to be a dense prick? Do you need me to spell it out for you? I’m confessing to you. I like you—god, this is so fucking stupid—I’ve liked you since grade school, throughout college, and now! The dates, the guys, none of them work out because they’re not you. Do you know how many times a guy is saying some shit and I’m sitting there thinking ‘Shouei wouldn’t say that’ or when I’m trying to find a guy that looks kinda like you, and even that’s fucking impossible—that’s how much you’re on my mind!”

Your confession—honesty—hangs in the air and Barou nearly chokes on it. You make a low, undignified sound, and press your back against the headboard, looking absolutely anywhere but him. Barou, on the other hand, hears nothing but pounding in his eardrums. He’s not sure if that’s his heartbeat, or yours. There’s a feeling of tight strings tugging at his chest again, a painful ache being left behind. After a moment, the bed creaks.

“Okay,” he breathes, and swallows around that awful lump in his throat.

“Okay?” your voice cracks embarrassingly. “I pour out my feelings and all you say is ‘okay’? This is worse than a rejection. Yoichi said the worst thing you could say is ‘no’ and—”

“Wait, that idiot knows about this?”

“That’s what you’re focused on? Ugh, forget it, I’ve said too much already!”

“Stop,” Barou’s face contorts into a heavy scowl, taking slight offense. “God, sometimes you ramble on so much that it’s hard to take everything at face value.”

He hesitantly presses a palm to your cheek and holds it there, watching your sudden stiff reaction. He shudders, slowly, before dusting the palm across your cheek, ears, hair, and settles it against the back of your head. He’s aware of his breathing, shaky and full of nerves. Barou moves closer until he can feel your breath fanning over his lips.

Before he can say anything else, you lean up and press your lips softly against his. They’re surprisingly soft, he realizes. There’s no heat to it, just a plush press of warmth, a little bit of pressure, and you’re silently swearing under your breath when you pull back.

“Oh god, was that dumb? Am I being stupid right now or what?” Your hands fly up, cradling your face. A muffled scream, then a groan. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I was thinking! You—me, we were—argh!” Your body retracts back, knee pressing up against your chest as you begin to lean away from him, almost in disgust with yourself.

Barou begins to feel a strange surge in his stomach and gnaws the insides of his cheek. The unusual warmth comes back and, this time, it settles between his legs, but there’s more to that. It was a small, soft kiss—barely long enough to be classified as one. He watches you fidget more before snapping.

“Do you know how to fucking relax?” Barou adjusts his grip behind your head, tangles his fingers in your hair, and drags you back in for another.

This time, it’s lasting, a more proper kiss, and he feels you getting lost in it. Your hands fumble their way back onto his body, finding ground on his thighs and leaning forward into the heat. Barou makes sure that his grip in your hair isn’t too tight, but warm and full of affection, and it makes you moan quietly, mouth parting and allowing his tongue to swipe over your lips.

Hardly any words are exchanged while he kisses you, slowly becoming more frenzied, drowning in the wet heat, tongues curling and hands roaming. There’s a steady, painful throbbing eagerness between Barou’s legs, and he’s positive that you can feel it.

It’s overwhelmingly awkward and stupid, how worked up you both are from just a bit of kissing; from taking turns ghosting each other’s jaws and necks, to hands blindly groping and snaking under clothing to get a squeeze at bare skin. You lean up again, lips tracing the contours of his jaw, and shift a hand down, curling your fingers through his sweats and around his length. A light, breathy noise slips out of him and he feels you pulling away, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from the heavy makeout session.

“I, um, take it that you like me back…?” You ask quietly, tugging Barou out of his trance.

He blinks, feeling the tips of his ears flushing with warmth. “You really know how to ruin the mood, don’t you?”

“I-I just need confirmation, stupid!”

“Maybe,” Barou confesses, his voice wavers just a little as he speaks. His body shifts with you in his arms, palms cupping both sides of your face. When you refuse to meet his eyes, he huffs. “Look at me. I wouldn’t do this to just anyone if I didn’t like them.”

You make a low, unpleasant noise. “So, you’ve done this with others? I don’t want to think about that.”

Barou’s chest tangles over itself again and, for a moment, being with you feels just a little less daunting. His posture stiffens, then goes lax in a quick second. He could honestly ask you the same thing, whether or not some of the men you’ve matched with have showered you in affection like this but, given your behavior, it seems like you’ve been hesitant and selective. If Barou’s being honest, he’s glad it’s that way.

“Then we don’t have to,” he surges forward, forcing his head down to catch your gaze before capturing your lips in surprise once more.

Eventually, he ends up hovering over you. You’re lying on the mattress, head semi-propped up against the pillows with half of his body weight on top of you—not too heavy, but not too comfortable. Barou’s vaguely aware of what this might lead to, with the look you’re giving him—with the look he’s giving you. He should really go to bed, or else he’s going to wake up with a migraine and a sore neck. But your cheek is nuzzled against his palm, he’s got his other hand running through your hair, soft and lazy, and he’s finding himself grinding against your lower half almost pathetically.

It’s impossible to put his thoughts into coherent sounds when your fingers work at his pants and manage to free his erection, springing it heavily against his stomach. Barou’s mind short-circuits, body jerking in reaction, with the slow, experimental pump of your fist around his aching cock. The look you’re currently giving him is mesmerizing, and it makes him feel as if he’s the most powerful person in the world.

He’s not sure how far you’re willing to go, especially since this feels like your first for everything. You adjust your hand around his length and let it run for a few more strokes. It feels foreign and electric at the same time, softer than his own hands that’s for sure. After you brush your thumb over his tip, smearing the pre, Barou immediately tries shielding himself from you, face buried in his shoulder, and swallows back a rumbling moan.

You pause, hand loosely wrapped around his base, frowning. “Is it bad? I’ll stop if…”

“No,” Barou clasps a hand over yours, squeezes, and sets a slow, firm pace. He shudders again when you adjust your position, hot breath fanning over his tip. “You don’t have to go down—”

“I want to,” you look at him with pleading eyes. “I want to make you feel good, Shouei.”

His mind goes through a whirlwind of possibilities, debating the urge to either run or dominate. Barou closes his eyes, breathing deeply in order to steady himself before he fully loses it. His cock twitches and your hand is clinging around him like a mold.

“Please,” you moan, a plea that’s both an invitation and a surrender, and it’s that damn voice that cuts through his brain fog.

You make a small noise of confusion when he pulls you back, and settles you flat against the mattress. Disappointment flicks across your face but disappears as quickly as it came when his palms make contact with your legs. He carefully watches you squirm, thighs pressing together, when he starts hiking up the dress past your waist and eventually off your body.

Barou sucks in his teeth, eyes drinking in your shy figure underneath him as he stares at your heaving chest, stomach, and plump thighs. He swears under his breath, hesitating for just a moment, before slipping a hand lower, past the barrier of your panties.

A strangled moan catches in his throat as he discovers the slick heat from your arousal, thick fingers pressing gently at the entrance. Your face casts a wild, bewildered look and you throw your head back, hand covering the lower half of your face.

“D-Don’t tease me…”

Barou clicks against his teeth. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Almost entranced, he stares at your slick center, folds glistensing and your clit practically pulsing with need. His fingers tremble, exploring with hesitance born from innocence. The warmth between your thighs is new, intoxicating, and downright terrifying. With each careful, slow, tentative touch, the sound of his name spilling from your lips is like a sacred plea and it ignites a spark within him.

He can’t wait any longer.

Barou groans as he rubs his padded fingers in between your dewy folds and slides in, a tight and perfect fit that draws a gasp from both parties. Your walls flutter around him almost instantaneously, paired by high pitched mews rolling off your tongue. He watches your knuckles fist the sheets as he starts his slow, stretching movements.

Your body squirms under his onslaught, thighs threatening to press closer from the sensitivity but he settles a firm grip on one of them. The sight of you under him, vulnerable and consuming, with hot tears springing out of the corners of your eyes, drives him over the edge. His fingers pick up speed inside, soon turning relentless, scissoring your gummy walls at a pace that you struggle to keep your volume low. Barou watches you throw a hand over your mouth when his thumb starts rolling over your clit in slow but purposeful circles. The scent of sex drenches him, listening to you mew and beg, his heavy cock leaking all over your thigh when you begin to raise your hips.

“Shouei,” you moan out, skin glistening and wet, flushed from the heat. Your fingers grasp sloppily against his biceps, sending shivers down his arms. “I want to take care of you, too.”

He spreads your legs even further out, applying more pressure to your core. Seeing the sight of you buckling your hips, grinding so shamelessly down on his fingers, brings him more pleasure than it should. Hearing the sighs and whines you babble out tells him everything he needs to know.

Barou raises his lips to your temple as he picks up the pace, groaning from the lewd sounds below. “Finish for me first, I don’t like owing favors,” he starts kissing your throat, tongue tracing over your sweet spots as your walls start fluttering around his digits.

Your hands land on his biceps, clutching his body as close to yours as possible while you calm down from the rush, unable to stop the way you're wailing his name right into his ear. It isn’t until Barou releases his fingers that he realizes that his sweats are now soaked from your orgasm.

“I'm sorry...” You sharply turn your head away, pleasure quickly replaced by embarrassment.

Barou carefully brushes the hair out of your eyes and captures your lips in a sweet and tentative kiss. “Was gonna get rid of them anyway.”

"Oh," you breathe out, unable to form a more suitable response.

He gets up from the mattress and manages to free himself from the remainder of his clothes. Normally, he would toss them in a hamper, but tonight he’s kicking them to the side. Mild anxiousness and anticipation claws at his throat when he formally settles between your legs and, this time, your hands are back to poorly covering up your bare, flushed out body.

Barou furrows his brows and gently pulls them aside, already reading your thoughts. “Stop, you don’t look weird.”

“But—”

He bends down, hands kneading on the flesh of your breasts while his mouth latches onto the side of your neck. You struggle to keep your voice down and squirm under his touch, again. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

It’s like he can almost see all the blood rushing towards your head when he pulls back. You’re nodding, shaking and quivering, and he can practically hear your heartbeat over his own.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Barou’s amazed that he’s able to keep it together, that his voice is even, because your fingers are slowly guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He’s had a girlfriend in the past, though the intimacy has never gone past making out. He has a faint idea of how it should feel and what he should do, but all that thought gets thrown out when his tip presses softly against your wet folds. Everything starts to feel unbearingly hot and tight.

“I trust you,” you sharply inhale when the first few inches slide into the soft, heated space, and spread your legs wider. You shift against the mattress, a hand splaying on his chest while the other is fisting the sheets. “I trust you more than I trust myself, Shouei.”

He hisses in response to that, adjusting his length, and cranes his head back so he can avoid releasing everything right then and there. You bite back a loud moan as soon as he bottoms you out, your nails digging and leaving half crescent marks into his chest at the stretch.

“Shit—you’re so warm,” he steadies his breathing, and reaches out a hand, caressing your flushed cheeks. He carefully dives in to kiss your lips and then your throat, biting until he nearly breaks skin.

You shudder beneath him, responding with a noise that’s in between a moan and a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

Barou ignores your taunting and scrapes his teeth along the ridge of your throat until he finds your earlobe, basking in the way you’re squeezing around him. “How you do want me to fuck you?”

Silence takes over as your answer, eyes widening at his response. A small thrust and he watches you wince from the stretch. Barou slows down his movements, pulling all the way out before sliding back into the hilt. Shocks of pleasure surges through his veins, and his throat rumbles with every tight pulse your velvety walls offer him, holding your hips steady as he builds up the rhythm.

Your moans and gasps send shivers down his whole body, arching your back as he finds the furthest point. Your grip on his chest tightens, fingers grasping, nails breaking the skin. Though, the pain is nothing compared to the binding pleasure Barou feels being buried deep around your enveloping, addicting warmth. His brain melts into a puddle, every nerve in his system heightens to a new level as you’re tightening around him.

You raise your hips higher, opening yourself and deepening the angle that he can thrust his way through. Barou’s browline pools in a thin veil of sweat as he works his way through it all, staring down at you in a silent, consumed gaze. He presses his hips forward and manages to find the spot that makes you violent and wild. The sound of his name shatters the air and you throw your head back, bliss screeching through both of your veins.

"Shouei, it’s too much," you cry out.

Barou sucks in his teeth, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. “Just breathe, you’re okay.”

He watches your eyes widen with a shaky nod. Your chest rises and falls, eyes frantically darting from the area between your legs up to his face in an attempt to calm yourself.

“I-I know, I know,” you respond, choked out and breathless.

Any consideration for neighboring guests in the complexes are abandoned as Barou pumps into you, his core tightening as every thrust brings him closer. Your walls and arousal coat around his cock with eagerness, as if afraid to let him go.

At the sight of you, teary-eyed and a babbling mess, Barou leans down and his mouth captures yours in another searing kiss that mutes your sounds. Your fingers shoot up, tangling in the mess of his long, black locks, pulling him closer until there’s no space left—until he feels nothing but wet skin and sheer desperation.

He buries his face in your neck, his hot breaths and pants tickling your skin as he senses the incoming orgasm. Barou shuts his eyes and lets his concentration break, mind fully focusing on the feeling of you swallowing him as he works his cock deep inside of you as he could go. All he can think about is how warm and tight everything feels, the sounds you’re making, how much he loves hearing you, and how long he’s been waiting for this moment. Now, with your cries of passion filling the room, back arched in a way he can't even fully describe, it’s more than he can handle, more than he can believe.

Your walls clench violently around him, one hand flying up and tugging at his hair so hard that it stings. But he’ll take it, Barou will endure all the pain and hunger from you knowing you’re cumming hard on his cock. He lets the pain ebb away, turning into waves of ecstasy. Your name falls from his lips and fills the dark room.

Barou bites back a moan and chews his lower lip, head nuzzled deep into your shoulder blade and hips stuttering as his vision goes blurry. Pleasure overtakes him, both immense pressure and the immediate release of it exploding in his skull, and he ends up gasping for air, legs jerking and body trembling as he releases inside of you.

He holds you tightly, rocking your body and panting against your warm skin as both of you try to catch your individual breaths as the aftershocks settle through. Everything stills, all that’s left are the low hums of the air conditioner and your frantic heartbeats. Barou isn’t sure how much time has passed when he finally feels his length go limp. Gently, he slips out and catches the way you moan in disapproval at the feeling of sudden emptiness.

He raises his head and meets your eyes, finding yours wet and half-lidded, completely fucked over. Lifting a thumb to wipe away the threatening tear, he rolls off and settles upright by the edge of the bed. The darkness strains his eyes, but he manages to find what he’s looking for. A few moments later and he hands you a few tissues from the bedside table and cranes his body.

“Are you okay?” Barou’s cautious of the volume of his voice, as if raising it an octave higher would break you even further.

Your breath hitches, wincing and moving meticulously to avoid spilling out all the contents on the sheets. “I think I am?”

“You sound unsure.”

“Well,” you prop up next to him, body curling tight together like a coil, head nudging against his bare shoulder. “We just had sex.”

The word almost slaps him in the face, making him sit up even straighter.

“We… did,” he said, slowly, and now feeling a certain way that he isn’t sure how to describe. Comfortable isn’t the right word, but it’s not exactly uneasy either. But that’s another step to think about, one that he probably won’t take today. He pauses for a moment, tongue heavy in his mouth, but pushes through and ignores the fretting in the back of his mind. “Do… Do you regret it?”

“No,” and you’re quick with it, despite avoiding eye contact. Instead, you curl your fingers around his bicep and squeeze hard. After a pregnant pause, you throw back the question. “How ‘bout you?”

“I don’t,” Barou finds himself equally as responsive, and he’s sure about a lot of things.

He’s sure he’s going to wake up tired and sore, but definitely is still going to out perform his other teammates tomorrow. He’s sure that one day he’ll surpass Isagi. And he’s sure that he wants to be here, with you. You two are best friends and… what, girlfriend and boyfriend now? It’s a crazy thought, but it has his heart fluttering like some dumb teenage romcom.

You simply nod, humming in deep thought, before reaching over and pulling him in for another kiss, and this time, it’s soft and delicate. Fragile, slow, and it has Barou clenching around the edge of the mattress. You’re both making quiet sounds, and he wants to keep going, but he can’t quite subdue that little bubbling jolt of fear in his head. And, because you’re stupidly observant at the strangest times, you pull back.

“We should… probably talk about this, right?”

“We should,” he agrees but, as soon as he glances at the time, exhaustion hits him like a freight train. Barou shudders and he allows gravity to take over, collapsing back onto the cold, wet mattress.

“Hey,” you shake him, enough to rouse some of the tiredness away. “Don’t crash here tonight, everything’s covered in sweat.”

He scoffs and turns over, relishing in the mild comfort. “You’re starting to sound exactly like me.”

“C’mon, Shouei,” he can’t exactly see you from this angle, but he imagines a big pout plastered over your face. “I mean it, let’s sleep in your room. This is like a sex bed…”

“Don’t call it that,” Barou cringes.

“I mean, technically it is. Y’know, couples get twin beds in hotel rooms all the time for that purpose and—”

“If we move to my room, will you promise me that you’ll be quiet and get some sleep?” Barou can slowly feel bags forming under his eyes.

Your weight shifts above him and you make a small noise of approval. “Sure, but no promises.”

#doobean writes #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #barou shoei smut #barou shoei x reader #barou shouei #barou smut #barou x reader

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catmask · 47 minutes

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sorry ive been offline lately </3 i see i have stuff in my inbox but ive been trying to stay off tumblr while recovering + getting back into drawing after being out of commission for a week... i want to focus, but ill be back to answer questions and stuff soon ^_^ i hope youll accept my art drills and practice stuff until im more talkative

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iawaaaaaa · 2 days

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sunday x fem!reader | in your embrace

Synopsis: Trying to keep your relationship with Sunday private is... really hard. But being in his embrace at night makes up for everything.

Genres: Fluff, Secret relationship, both of you are smitten.

iara's note :: sunday.,,,,,, im so sane for this man,,,, im not btw

"Ms. L/N! Ms. L/N! Do you mind sharing details on your relationship with Mr. Sunday?" A journalist once asked you as you were getting out of the practice room with Robin.

"Me and Mr. Sunday's relationship is strictly professional. I am nothing more than Robin's voice teacher, so please do not ask me that question." You responded back with showing 0 emotion.

If anyone else was with you, they would think you were feeling uncomfortable but Robin...

Robin knew you were internally panicking.

Exactly when you were getting bombarded with other questions, our 'Chicken wing boy' was also being interviewed.

"Mr. Sunday. A lot of us are rather... intrigued by your relationship with Ms. L/N. Do you mind sharing some details about it?

Sunday hummed. "Ms. L/N is a wonderful person. Robin has learned a lot since the day Ms. L/N took her under her wing. However, our relationship with each other is strictly professional and will always be."

"Hm... thank you for answering us. Now! On to the next question..."

If anyone were to see Sunday's expression, they'd think that his feelings towards Ms. L/N were unrequited and he still is deeply wounded by it.

No one knows that deep inside, he was relieved.

Now you might be asking - "Why are they panicking over a question?"

The answer is quite simple, actually.

Mrs. Y/N and Mr. Sunday are too smitten to lie about not being together.

Before you and Sunday got together, you were still considered as a rookie in the industry. Sunday noticed how captivating your singing range was and ultimately became head over heels for your voice

Just like how a man would feel towards a siren's voice, correct?

...Except you wouldn't use your voice to kill him, mind that.

You were also impressed by how Sunday could balance work-life and social-life and ultimately became head over heels for him too.

Cheesy? Not to them!

Going back to present time -

You and Sunday were peacefully in each other's arms in your shared bedroom while you were humming a lullaby your mother always hummed to you when you were still a child.

"How was the interview?" You softly told him. "It was alright, until they asked me if I were your partner..." Sunday replied with a hint of theatrical. You giggled a bit while saying "They also asked me that too."

"My bird, I am very tired of denying our relationship." He said.

"My angel, I am too. But remember this is for the sake of our families and your status." You told him back with a hint of sadness. You yawned a little as you slowly drifted to sleep.

"I love you. So so much that I do not care about my status if it means I can show you my love towards you anywhere." He softly said as he opened his eyes to gaze at your sleeping form.

"Just wait my sweet bird, until I can create a world where we're free together."

@2024 iara, do not translate my works nor repost them as yours.

#iawa #ichi: hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #sunday x reader #sunday x you #robin #penacony #sunday hsr #smitten sunday #giggles #hsr sunday x you #hsr sunday x reader

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txttletale · 1 day

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can you talk more about what you like about hypnospace outlaw? i love that game but i thought it was more a cute fun time than an exceptional narrative, im surprised to see it as your top 5 game of all time

i guess the "main story", if you can call it that, is--i agree with you--not an exceptional narrative. but, like, i think the stories that matter in hypnospace outlaw are the individual stories of the people who make their little pages, and those stories are not only wonderful but conveyed incredibly. hypnospace outlaw is about seeing the digital footprints people leave, about learning about other people's passions, about exploring a social space and realizing there's all kinds of people in the world. it's a story that speaks to me a lot and my early experiences on the internet--there is such a powerful feeling of connection and intimacy with its characters achieved just through these little webpages, in little choices like how they decorated them, and there's so much attention put into all the little details of that. & the fact that you don't even get to interact with these people just makes it stronger to me, gives it this bittersweet melancholy edge (best encapsulated by the unbelievably good theme song).

it makes me remember being a kid online and making my lame little forum posts but also makes me reminisce on my time online now, on what someone might think of me if they only saw my blog. it speaks to these asymmetrical strange moments of connection, of finding some weird website about frogs someone's maintained since 1997. it's more than just nostalgia for a specific aesthetic or moment--my early internet experiences happened long after the age of neocities that HO is riffing on directly--but about the power of the internet to be wonderful and strange and stupid and funny and infuriating, to put you in contact with strange and magical people and also the dumbest motherfuckers alive. there is such a tenderness and love on part of the game for each and every character in it, from the confused old grandma to the edgy teen to the homophobic kid.

this is a very rambly answer but hopefully this helps convey why i think it's a top 5 game for me !

#ask

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synth-operator · 2 days

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(ATTACKS YOU WITH THIS AND THEN LEAVES) Happy Pride Month and Trans Rights~

I LITERALLY JUST SAW THIS NOW OH MY GOD, I WAS OUT ALLDAY AND I WAS BLESSED WITH A HANDSOME BEEFY SWAT IN MY FEED????????? SAINT SKIBIDI BLESS YOU OH MY GOD I WAS LITERALLY KICKING MY FEET AND SQUEALING AND AND AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- LIVE ROD REACTION AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

I WILL CHERISH THIS AND STARE AT THIS FOREVER OH MY GOD, HIS LITERAL CHISELED MUSCLES AND AND THAT GRIN, OH MY GOD THIS TOILET MAKES ME SO GAY HAPPY PRIDE MONTH INDEED AAAAAAAAA <333333333333333333333333333333333 THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS AND IF YA ATTACKED ME, THIS MEANS WAR MWUAHAHAHAHAHA

#skibidi toilet #rodney answers #oc rod #swat mutant toilet #OH MY GOD IM GENUINE THIS IS KILLING ME /POSITIVE #I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW MUSCLES TOO OMGGGG #I KNOW I DRAW SWAT KINDA BEEFY BUT GOTDAMN YOURS IS A CHEFS KISS #FR YOU WILL SEE BACK FROM ME MWUAHAHAHAAHAH #THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN OH MY GOD

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paiges-1vur · 2 days

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welcome to the party pt. 1

——————-

paige bueckers x oc!

cw: language, alcohol (no smut yet 😉)

a/n: hi guys this is my first time writing a fic so im totally open to any constructive criticism or tips for writing! let me know if you like this ;)

wc: 3545

————————————-

Friday 9:00 pm

I looked at myself in the mirror, my jaw dropping immediate as I turned to my proud best friend. My roommate Riley looked down at me.

“What do you think!” she asked smiling ear to ear.

Despite being somewhat of a girly girl, I never had a good sense of style. (thats where Riley comes in). Tonight when I heard we were going out to the bars I decided to let her get me ready. Turning back to the mirror I saw my long golden brown hair straightened reaching almost past my butt. My hair has always been one of my favorite things about me. She had also done my makeup, and had gone for a soft glam which suited me well. i never looked good with lots of makeup on. If anything i feel more confident without any at all.

“Do you the think the skirt is too much?” Riley says, snapping me back into reality. I scan my outfit. Im wearing the infamous “is this too much for a little bar in jersey..” top and i laugh to myself. Riley paired it with a jean mini skirt. Emphasis on mini.

“I like it” I smile up at her. Despite my smile sees right through me.

“But what” she asks, anticipating my reply.

“Don’t you you think i look like a..” I trail off, “a whore?” Don’t get me wrong i loved the outfit, but being blessed as a C cup and having a good ass on me made me worried about what people would think if they saw me in this outfit. I loved playing volleyball at Uconn, and being one of the shortest players to go D1 at 5”1. It was one of my biggest accomplishments.

Im not one to brag but I do have a pretty good body. I have a toned stomach from hours of being im the gym, and a good ass from weight training with my teammates. I just didnt want anybody to get the wrong idea about me based off of my outfit.

“Ana, dont worry about it. If anyone has something to say about the way you look tonight, then they can talk to me first.” Riley reassured me. Her confidence is something i only wish i could have. I took a deep breath and gave her a hug.

“Thans ry. By the way i love this outfit. 10/10, chefs kiss.” I do a little spin for her showing a full 360 of the outfit.

Riley hypes me up before grabbing my hand and taking me into the kitchen of our small apartment. Its not much, but its nice to live off campus. I watch her grab the fireball from the kitchen counter as she flashes me a smile.

as shes pouring me a shot i secretly pray to not get alcohol poisoning tonight. Tonight was one of the biggest going out days at Uconn, especially because the woman’s basketball team had just won the big east tournament. I wonder if the team would be out at teds tonight.

“Ready?” I get pulled out of my delusion to see Riley handing me the shot. I throw it back and immediately feel the burning in my throat reaching for a caprisun as a chaser.

“Shit its 9:30 already and we cant miss the pre game come on!” Riley grabs me by the hand and rushes us out the door.

____________

“Who’s dorm are we going to again?” I ask basically screaming over the Drake blasting in Rileys car.

“Remember that girl Azzi I had cognitive science with?” She looks at me. “Her and some of her friends are going to Teds tonight too and invited us to pregame with them.”

I feel anxiety wash over me. “But Riley she doesn’t even know me! And you know how i get… I’m not good at socializing or meeting new people.”

“Don’t worry she told me i could bring a friend, and shes exited to meet you and introduce you to her friends. I promise it’ll be fun, they are all nice girls.”

We park next to her building, getting out of the car to walk up to her dorm together.

I fix my hair and bit my lip anxiously waiting for Azzi to answer the door. What am i getting myself into?

__________

#wbb #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige x reader #azzi fudd #ncaa wbb #wbb x reader #uconn x reader #p boogers #fanfic #kk arnold

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inesbaby21 · 1 day

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okay i have 2 requests. could you do a fic or headcanons about kk and genos daughter who is on uconn’s dance team? and then could you do a fic or headcanons about inês and reader like how they met, cute fluffy moments, and then when she transfers how the relationship is?

Ofc, im going to do the KK one first and then the Ines one will come out later today!

SECRET LOVE SONG, PART I (its going to be a series)

1st Person P.O.V

I sat in the stands with a few girls on the dance team, watching the girls practice. I never really clicked with basketball like my dad had hoped, but once he saw how good at dance I was and how determined to be the best he began to support me unconditionally!

"Hey Y/n, what's it like having Geno as a dad" one of the girls asked, it was a question I got probably a million times but my answer remains the same.

"Just like having any other dad, he's caring, he's respectful, and had always put me first" I said eyes focused on the court. The girls were doing defensive drills, and from looking at the score the once winning team had lost, causing them to do baselines.

The girls continued to talk until I heard my name called from the court, "Y/N M/N AURIEMMA" I hear my father call.

"And that's my call ladies" put your practice uniforms and shoes on" I giggled "Hustle, Hustle" I said skipping down the stairs looking for where exactly my pa was located.

" You look gorgeous today Y/N" he said, probably to butter me up before asking a ridiculous favor from me. "So, our photographer called out again, something about her baby being sick" he said keeping eye contact with me throwing down hints I slowly began to pick up on. "So, what i'm getting from this conversation, is you want me to go back to my dorm- get my camera's, set up and take pictures of the your girls?" I said with my eyebrow raised

"If you wouldn't mind, I know you have dance things to do with your team today but we really need pictures for the media honey" he said rubbing my shoulder, and with that, I had one of the older girls go back to the dorms to get my 3 cameras and set up.

After I was done setting up I sat in the nearest chair, and began to watch. A few minutes later, my dad rounded up all of the girls (including me) after a short water break. "Girl's as you know, Jane can't be here for todays practice, and I had to find a replacement Y/N will be taking pictures for the media today" He said with his arm around his shoulder hugging me a little. "Hi, I'm Y/N" I said as one of the seniors on the dance team called for me

"Y/N/N where are youuuu" she dragged out the embarrassing nickname, causing me to lunge for her!

"Seiana" I huffed I'm in the middle of something i said as I looked back to my father who I could see (from the corner of my eye) laughing his ass off from my immediate reaction to shut the 5'11 girl up.

"SeiSei, will you make sure the girls are behaving, and SITTING court-side" I said giving her a look that told her all. "Duh, why wouldn't I" Seiana said rolling her eyes, and as more girls walked in she began to "relay" the message that "Y/N/N has daddy duties, so sit quite and let her sort this out and then we can practice"

I found myself walking back over to the group, ultimately finding a (not my original) spot next to a brown skinned girl. "So now that Y/N/N is back, we can continue ladies- any questions" my dad asked as a girl began to connect the dots. "So you're Y/N, like Y/N Auriemma" a girl who's presence would soon become something surreal in my life asked.

"That's me, the one and only" I said giggling "Alright, Alright ladies let's get back to work" my dad said as they broke off and got back to their spots.

I sat court-side with some other freshman on the dance team, snapping a few pictures of us and then a few of the girls.

A girl, which i now knew as KK ran up beside me reaching over me to get her water bottle, eventually taking a seat next to me. "Hey" she said sitting the now half empty water bottle down. "Hi, you guys are really good at basketball ball" I said like an idiot. cmon of course they're good Y/N you saw most of them play in high school when your dad went scouting my conscious said. "Your dad's a good coach" she replied catching her breath, and tearing her eyes away from the drills the girls began to run once again. "He is great at what he does" i giggled, and began to tell her all about my childhood and all of the now wnba stars I got to grow up around. " He seems like a good dad" KK said keeping contact with me.

I realize the more we began to talk, the closer kk got to me and eventually her shoulder began to bump against mines as we chatted some more. " Ouuuu Y/N/N! okay we see you girl" Sevyn (Seiana's) ridiculously loud girlfriend as as she walked in with more of the dance teams equipment. "Oh my goodness Sevyn, do NOT start with me right now". I said turning to face Seiana, and her overgrown child of a girlfriend with the meanest stank face I could conjure at the moment. Kk began to laugh and push me a little, laughing even harder- the commotion brought attention to my dad who finally (unfortunately) realized that Kk was on a much longer break than needed.

"K-KK, KK GOD GET OVER HERE" my father yelled and that was her cue to get back up, and into her spot before he started a 6 hr lecture.

A/N - this seemed kinda long/kinda ish well written (i spent maybe 25/35 mins on it so.) ITS NOT PROOF READ. and IT IS THE FIRST PART. GIVE ME SOME CANON EVENTS TO ADD/SOME MORE PLOT GUYS 😞

A/N pt. 2 - i almost only see white ocs/y/ns for kk so that's most definitely changing with this series. And tbh you guys could see Y/N as adopted (i do for like not ruining Geno's happy marriage irl) OR you could see her as his bio daughter.

A/N pt.3- I also see Y/n as black for this series( and all of my future series fym), not only that but she is a freshman in college too i didn't want to give her a crazy age gap from KK.

#kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #uconn huskies #geno auriemma #paige bueckers x reader #wlw

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cottoncandyswisherz · 2 days

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hood fav

softdom!chris x fwb!reader (described as poc) warnings: CHEATING BITCH, shower sex, choking if you squint and tilt your head to the left, riding, missionary, swearing, a lil overstimulation

- chris was mad.

no. he was heated.

no. he pissed the FUCK off.

his fans always ask why he doesn't want a girlfriend? why does he have commitment issues?

this is exactly why. he'd been talking to this gir- this BITCH for like 3 months and he goes to surprise her after being gone on tour months and this is what he fucking gets.

*30 MINS AGO*

chris' heart was pounding in his chest due to anticipation. he'd been gone so long and she was the first person she wanted to see when he came back.

he had a goofy smile on his face and a bouquet of peonies (her favorite flower) behind his back. his smile only grew when he heard the door being unlocked.

"SURPRI-" his face dropped when he saw some fucking idiot standing shirtless in his girls doorway. "what the fuck?"

"baby who's at the do- oh fuck." she came to the door in wearing nothing but a tee-shirt.

"baby?" chris was dumb founded. "you- you're- BABY?!"

"chris i can explain this- can you come back later so we can talk?"

this made chris laugh as he pulled out his phone to call matt back. "yeah no. ya'll have fun though." and with that began to walk away and down the street.

*BACK TO NOWADAYS*

when matt pulled up next to him on a random street, he came with a pre-roll and a pepsi. "fuck her, bro."

lighting his j, chris smiled and said, "yeah im not tripping."

"good. you're fucking great, and shes a bum." matt pat his brothers shoulder and pulled off the curve. "we going home or do you just wanna drive around?"

chris inhaled again and ashed his joint, setting it down to text the person he really needed to see. "bro can you take me y/n's? i needa talk to her."

"yeah i got you." matt chuckled and headed to their friends house.

to matt, y/n was a close friend that he and his brothers loved. she was funny and chill as fuck to be around. never had a bad vibe, always smiling. she called herself a hood fav.

but to chris, y/n was a god. she was fucking gorgeous and had a smart ass mouth, that he put to good use. they fucked when neither of them were seeing anyone, and it never complicated their friendship.

chris didn't want a girlfriend, and y/n thought chris was the most unserious person on the planet.

and that's how they liked it. they gave each other the best orgasms known to man, then watched a movie and vibed the rest of the day.

nothing more. nothing less.

arriving at his friends house, chris hopped out of the kia truck and called her to open the door.

"hello?" y/n answered. chris noticed noise behind her but he couldn't make it out.

"yo im outside, come open the door."

"first of all, don't be fucking rude, say hi back." the girl retorted, her voiced laced with sass.

"my fault bruh." he rolled his eyes. "hi y/n. now can you open the door?"

"im in the shower, use the key under the turtle." she laughed and hung up.

shower?? chris thought. perfect.

he made quick work of opening the door and making his way up the stairs and into the bathroom, where he was met with steam and loud music.

she was playing her favorite rapper, heembeezy. (free my nigga fr)

"bro why are you here? didn't you get to LA two hours ago?" y/n yelled from the shower.

"i went to see her and a fucking dude answered her door with no clothes on." he responded, sitting on the toilet to take off his shoes.

y/n swung the curtain open with a gobsmacked look on her face. "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY! SAY ON GOD RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!"

"on god bruh." he sighed, removing his shirt. "then she said she can explain and to come back later."

y/n laughed at this and went back to her shower. "she's a fucking bum bro. fuck her."

"that's what matt said." his bottoms came off next.

"that's why matts my favorite. he just like me for real."

chris opened the shower door and looked at her body that can only be described as glorious. "yeah so now im cool on relationships for now."

y/n made room for him in her small shower and giggled. " you back on your p shit?"

"yup." he gave a cheeky grin and pulled her to him. "now come here."

he pulled her into him so her wet body was flush on his. his hands found their way to her ass and grabbed a handful and rejoiced in the fact that it wouldn't all fit in his hand. his dick hardened against her soft belly as her hands ran up his back and into his hair, gripping it tightly.

he went to pull her shower cap off, but she quickly stopped him "i just got my hair done bro."

he yanked it off anyway. "i'll pay for you to get it done again tomorrow."

her nipples peaked against his chest and she came to a realization. "i'm all wet." she said.

"already?" he rebutted with a smile. she just laughed and turned them around so he was under the water.

she admired the way his hair fell to his forehead and his cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. his body glistened while wet and she loved it. his biceps flexed when he tilted his head back and raised his arms to move the hair from his eyes.

she took the step needed to be back in his close proximity and enveloped him in another loin-firing kiss.

their bodies knew each other perfectly at this point. they knew what made the other tick, what made them moan, what made them scream.

she wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling him impossibly closer.

he moved his hand to her neck, his long fingers wrapping around it with ease. applying the perfect amount of pressure from memory.

she pulled away from his intoxicating lips and swirled her tongue around the top of his ear. "you want me to get your mind off the bum?"

he backed up so he could look at her face and he could have cum at the sight of her. her eyes were hooded and dark. he grabbed both sides of her face and looked in her eyes before he answered her question. "fuck. yes."

she smirked at his answer and lowered herself to her knees, peppering kisses down his body in the process.

when she got to her destination, she wrapped her hands around his begging cock, and took his tip in her warm mouth.

chris sucked in a breath and grabbed her braids, wrapping them around his hand a few times. "fuuuck." he groaned and pushed her further down his shaft.

chris had received a lot of head in his 20 years, but y/n didn't just suck dick. she was an eater. she took all of him in her beautiful mouth and attempted to take his soul every time and the only sound he heard was her moans.

she was moaning.

"god, youre so fucking perfect." he grunted, looking down at her. his stomach dropped to his ass when she looked back at him through those lashes that he loved.

she pulled off him and began stroking him. "yeah?" she gathered her spit in her mouth and spat it on his tip, making him jolt and reach up to grab the shower head in order to stay on planet earth.

she swallowed him whole once again, stroking as her lips went back and forth on his dick.

chris was close and she knew it so she went all the way to the top and sucked his tip with enough passion that he released in her mouth with his eyes screwed shut and a moan.

he opened his eyes, and by the time the stars left his vision, y/n had swallowed every thing he gave her.

with weak legs, he turned around, shut the water off and dragged her out of the bathroom, soaking wet.

"chris, im soaked!" she laughed as he pushed her onto the bed, climbing on top of her.

"i know, and im gonna use that to my full advantage." he smiled and pecked her lips quickly, moving down to where he really wanted to be.

between her legs.

"im gonna fuck you til you see jesus." he stated, boring into her eyes.

she felt so nervous when chris looked at her like that. every time he did, she came out a changed woman.

"...o-okay..." she stuttered out.

and it began.

see, chris was an eater as well. he didn't just eat pussy, he fell into it. face first.

he ran two fingers up her folds, spreading her pussy so he could see all of her.

"god your pussy's so fucking pretty." he whispered and got to work. attaching his lips to her clit, using his tongue for something productive for once.

y/n was a mess already, moaning and gripping his hair with an iron fist. her legs fell wider with every caress of his tongue. she was falling apart and he wasn't even using his hands. this was sad.

he pulled away and spit on her pussy harshly and dove back in, driving her in-fucking-sane. but she really lost it when he bit her clit softly.

she came with a scream. it felt like she levitated off the bed. as she tried to roll over onto her stomach, chris gripped her plush thighs and held her back down. so she tried to close her legs but he slammed them open and brought his head up from his favorite place. between her thighs with her addicting scent attacking his sense.

he made eye contact with her and looked at her in a way that told her "lay the fuck down."

and she did.

but he knew she was sensitive, so instead of eating her pussy, which he loved doing, he collected her juices on his two fingers and slid them inside her with grace.

her eyes fell closed as she let out a "good god" only to be met with "my names chris ma. say my name."

she couldn't even comprehend what the fuck he was saying due to the way he was pulling her spirit out of her with his fucking fingers.

he got up on his knees and leaned down to her ear, never stopping his hands. "say my fucking name y/n." he rubbed her clit with his thumb and she gave him what he wanted.

she chanted his name like a prayer as she release once again. he went down automatically and licked all of her before coming up again and taking her mouth in his so she could see why he ate her pussy every time.

they kissed for a hot second, allowing her to ground herself. then he pulled away and asked "you still with me?" y/n nodded but it wasn't enough. "words, baby."

"i'm with you, chris."

she was looked at him with those eyes and he damn near lost his fucking mind.

he rolled off her and sat up against her headboard. "ride me, y/n"

she fucking loved when he said her name while they were fucking. it sounded so pretty coming from his filthy mouth. he said it so perfectly, his voice low, every letter sounding like sex.

she climbed on his lap, her legs folding at his sides. as she straddle him, she grabbed his face and kissed him once again. she could kiss him all day if he wasn't so fucking whore-ish. she moved from his lips to his neck and went to that spot that drove him wild, sucking until she heard him moaning.

she took that as a sign to sink onto his cock, whining at the full feeling.

chris was on planet her with doja cat at this point. her perfect pussy took him so well. like her body was made for sex with him.

his hand gripped her ass once again and he began guiding her on him until she took matters into her own hands and moved on her own.

they went slow. so pleasantly slow.

he pulled her hair so she'd look at him while she rode him. her brown eyes found his blue ones and they got lost in each other, whispering to each other things they'd never say outside of this moment.

"you're so fucking beautiful."

"you're perfect."

"just for you."

"i'm the only one who makes you feel as good as this?"

"only you."

"only me?"

"only you."

chris was feral.

he pulled out, flipped them over so he was on top, and pushed back into her at all at once. grabbing her leg, brought it over his shoulder and fucked her like he hadn't seen her in 12 years.

he felt all of her. her walls swallowing his cock and squeezing deliciously tight. he threw his head back in ecstasy and she reached up and brought it back so he was looking at her again. "it feels so good, chris." she pulled him down and kissed him.

he put all his weight on one arm and slipped the other one between them, pushing on her stomach so she felt even more of him.

this made her cry out and he took her open mouth as a sign to slip in his tongue and taste her pretty sounds.

y/n was on cloud 9. she felt so good. so full. so happy. she felt like she would never feel as content as she did when she was wrapped around chris, taking every stroke he gave her. she couldn't pinpoint when things had changed that night but she knew that they had. she knew that it would never be the same after this. but her orgasm was chasing her down and she couldn't focus on silly things like emotions.

pulling away she told him, "baby im gonna cum. can i cum? please?"

he simply chuckled at her uncharacteristic question and simply said, "yes, y/n. you can cum."

she looked at him with soft eyes. "you want me to?"

he chuckled again and said "yes baby, i want you to. do it for me." he move his hand from her belly to her clit and rubbed soft circles.

y/n gasped and her eyes rolled back in her head. she had no words. she couldn't see, or hear, or smell or taste. all she could feel was chris. she could feel her inside him, touching every part of her. she could feel his hand on her pussy, bringing her to tears. she could feel his breath on her nose as he watched her come undone.

finding her voice, she screamed out praises over and over again, the sound bringing chris to his own high.

he closed his eyes and asked where she wanted him. she didn't answer, so he patted her face softly so she'd focus, and asked again. "where do you want me baby?"

"leave it in." she breathed out. "cum in my pussy please."

he couldn't take it after that. he finished in a way that can only be described as an explosion. the funny thing is, he he was the one who saw jesus. every muscle in his body tightened and he closed his eyes so hard, he saw shapes.

"fuck fuck fuck FUCK Y/N!" he moaned as he painted her walls with himself and pulled out, covered his hand in their mixed seed and shoved his fingers in her mouth.

and she did what was expected, swirling her tongue around his fingers, she sucked until there was nothing left.

"you're so fucking good, i can't believe it." he muttered in amazement.

her eyes were already falling shut as she sucked his fingers and he knew if she continued he'd melt into a puddle on her carpet.

he rolled off her and layed on her bed, staring at the ceiling, desperate to catch his breath. when he did, he went to to bathroom and got the towel that she never used, to clean her up, smiling when she moaned at the feeling in her sleep.

he cleaned himself off, threw the towel into the hamper, then laid back down and curled into her side, resting his head on her tits.

chris wasn't oblivious. he knew that tonight changed things. he knew that she wasn't just a friend anymore. he knew that they were gonna have to talk about it for the sake of their relationship.

but not tonight.

tonight, he'd hold her close and relish in the feeling of her nails in his hair. he'd cherish her scent. he'd kiss her until her taste was etched on his tongue. he'd watch her sleep and drift off to the sounds of her soft snores.

because not only was she a hood fav,

she was his fav.

niyah speaks for the eaters who want love ALSOOOO i got a nic fluff coming out this month bc is gay month and my people need to be recognized

taglist: @mattslolita @hoesformatt @muwapsturniolo @mattssluttygf

remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and my mommy i mean me)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #i want my hoe back guys

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briarbabyxo · 2 days

Text

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ : Beast dazai ᡣ𐭩 Reader : ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

₊˚ෆ ` maybe in another life, my love ` ෆ˚₊

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ please reblog and request to support creators ˖ ݁𖥔 .

𖦹⋆｡˚⋆ฺ⋆ suicide , pregnancy , fem reader ⋆ฺ⋆˚｡⋆𖦹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁ .

" darling? What’s bothering you tonight? " you say as you watch your lover from the doorframe of his office - he was looking through the windows, there was an air of melancholy that hung through like a thick fog, you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was though so you just assumed he was being melodramatic.

" hmm? - ah, it’s just you. " dazai spoke solemnly, although he never did turn around. He just kept staring, into nothing - maybe a few clouds but there was nothing particularly interesting out there either, just a few cars and a couples of buildings.

you had a little bag with you - you were waiting to surprise him, you were smiling and everything . . . Yet he wouldn’t look at you, he just looked outside. Usually he was all over you but today he seemed like he wanted to be alone. you sat the bag on his desk, about to leave him for a moment - you hoped he would open it whenever he sat down out of curiosity.

" darling? Is something wrong? . . . I can come in later if you wish - there is a surprise at your desk waiting . . . " you said, he didn’t answer yet either - it perplexed you at the time . . . you felt like he was about to say something - but then he paused and just nodded his head.

" . . . I’ll open it later . . . " he said, he didn’t wish to scare you - and he didn’t wish to scare you or make you cry . . . or that you would stop him. so he never said a word, he did want to leave you with one last thought before he fell from grace.

you didn’t understand any of this at the time, you were completely and utterly unaware - unaware of the signs and the consequences of being so blissfully blind of them. now you knew though - all too well even.

" (y/n)? honey? are you still there? " he called out, he was always one for flowery words and lovey - dovies, but he wished to outdo himself . . . one last time, like a promise at his lips with one mission - a mission you wouldn’t know of until late that night - as he took one deep breath he turned around, he had a gentle smile on his face - usually he wasn’t so quiet, playing pranks or just teasing you.

Before you could even ask what in the world he was being so quiet about - you saw him move from the window, sweeping you off your feet as you gasped in surprise. his hand supporting you at the small of your back as he holds you against him - dipping you as his lips met yours, he held you and supported you in his bandaged arms. pulling away breathlessly as he cupped your face.

“ if i had to choose between being with you and ever seeing the daylight ever again . . . I would stay by your side, knowing that everytime im with you the sun shines through the darkness of the night and into my heart. No matter how cold it is . . . i love you more than i love the entire world darling, I could never see myself with another who isnt you - they could simply never shine as bright nor could they ever make me as soft as you have seemed to. I would tear down the entire port mafia down with my bare hands if it meant anything at all to you, i love you more than it should be possible to love, more beautiful and brilliant than any poet or philosopher has written, more tender and loyal than any knight or soldier, more precious than any jewel . . . The thing about my love for you, is that it's like a painting. . . the words I use can never describe all of the colors that my heart paints for you."

your breath was caught in your throat, you didnt even know what to say to that - he had that way of making you breathless but when you tried to reply he just shushed you.

" shhhh . . . sh . . . shhh . . . Lovely, i have a meeting with the slug soon, i really need to take a few minutes to compose myself for how mean he’s going to be! He’s going to yell at me the whole time like a disobedient dog, it will be rather unpleasant for you to witness - you need to go back to work . . . i’ll check out the gift in a moment, okay? " he pressed a finger to your lips and lead you out the door.

you really didn’t want to leave - you wanted to see his reaction to the gift he would receive, the little gift bag held something so so precious- something he would have to care about. it was a positive pregnancy test, two lines of truth. - but you didn’t want to press his boundaries when he needed this much alone time . . . So you left, expecting a call from his work phone relatively soon.

but it never did come.

It was late when Atsushi had called you, it wasn’t entirely uncommon that Dazai would usually have to stay around late for unexpected meetings, but there was something different about this call - you had been on edge all night, you thought it was just jitters at the moment because of the anticipation of his call and hearing his voice coo about the very tiny bundle in your stomach. not even the size of a jellybean right now.

you had picked up the phone in a hurry - expecting to hear Dazais voice . . . only to be greeted with another.

" miss (y/n)? . . . I’m so, so sorry . . . " you heard the young man’s voice speak in a cracked voice and you didn’t even have the time to ask what in heavens name he would be sorry about when he started to sob. he explained everything, no matter how hard it was to hear and how hard it was to say. He explained the fall, the motive and he explained that chuuya would be the new mafia boss - and then he asked you to help clean out Dazai office and everything belonging in it. keep the trinkets you wanted, same with the last boss . . . and the one before.

you dropped the phone to the floor when he said Dazai was dead - the screen cracked but it wasn’t as broken as your heart right now. You almost fell too, knees weak and you had to stabilize yourself on the countertop as you felt like the whole world came crashing down.

" - I . . . I’ll be there, I-i . . . you sobbed and cried, it all felt so gut wrenching and it almost felt like some sick joke. But you knew, deep within your soul you just knew it wasn’t.

" miss (y/n) . . . I can ask chuuya to help you carry things - I did a little bit of snooping in his office after . . . I’m so sorry, I could never imagine . . . " the white haired man would speak quietly though the phone, you blamed him for your lovers death almost . . . You knew it wasn’t right - it didn’t even feel right, but you needed something to blame . . . Maybe yourself. If you noticed before - you would have begged him to stay. maybe he would have stayed. No, now you know why he didn’t. He didn’t want to stay - obviously. so he didn’t want you to waist your breath on it.

you hung up the phone - not wishing for anyone to hear you cry . . . but you heard the knock at the door twenty minutes later - you composed yourself, collected yourself so you would look strong when you felt so hopeless and alone . . . the earth itself felt as if it were breaking with your heart and the sky rained as if heaven mourned as well.

you opened the door to see the slug — erm, I mean Dazais dog — uhmmm . . . Chuuya at the door, he looked fairly composed and he had a box with everything in dazais office in it - it wasn’t a lot, he was never much for keepsake. Most of it just a few rolls of bandages with a framed picture of him and chuuya and the two of you together . . . and . . . His scarf, the bag with the test - and a waxed letter.

" . . . " chuuya said nothing as he sat the box by the doorway, processing to fiddle with the edge of his suit, fingers fidgeting against the nice stitching that embroidered the edges - it was awkward . . . More than that it was lonely - Chuuya was lovely, sure but you would trade everything for him to just say surprise and for it all to be a joke. . . It wasn’t, though. . .

tears dripping as you picked up dazais scarf, the black coat folded neatly underneath. Crying into his scarf as chuuya gave you an awkward hug . . . He didn’t know what to say, nobody did - it was all so . . . fast.

" tha - thank you for bringing me his things - i need so-some alone time now . . . " you choked on sobs as chuuya nodded and said his goodbyes, walking out. Leaving you to lay against the door with a sob as you cradled to scarf against your face, you cried and sobbed . . . You couldn’t even bring yourself to open the wax sealed letter, yet.

you stayed like that until dawn, you basically had to force yourself to crawl into bed, using his jacket and scarf as a blanket - the smell of the whiskey and his musky cologne were all that remained of him, well . . . That and the creation of your love in your tummy - it was a bit of both of you, it took two to tango and it was the only thing now you had left to cling to him. Even if it would be hard or painful, the baby was hardly even anything yet, just a clump of cells and it didn’t even have a heartbeat yet . . . You knew it was pathetic. But you were attached, it would be a baby soon if you kept it, maybe if you were lucky it would be smart like your osamu, so you decided to keep it.

The wax letter was still on your nightstand . . . you brought it over to yourself, wiping your tears as you carefully undid the wax, hoping to preserve it . . . reading a letter from a dead man is strange - you know you can never write back, and yet you never wish to write anything else. It’s even stranger when it’s the love of your life. never another kiss, a hug, a little wink when you both know a secret between the two of you, never another night of cuddles and comfort within each others embrace . . . never another ‘I love you’ . .

you opened your eyes once more, sitting up and turning on your phones flash to read everything - memorize every detail, every comma every swirl in his cursive and every sentence.

` my dearest and most beautiful love, `

how am I to ever start this letter? How am I to even go about this? I would like to start off with one thing at a time - just to unpack everything, I hope that’s enough to ask. I know it feels like nothing will ever be okay again, but it can and it will. I know you might even be angry at me, I would be too. I wish I could have stayed longer - in truth your the only one who could have ever made me wish to be alive, your the only one I would have lived for. And I love you more than anything, do realise that. But this is one of the only universes where oda is alive - I believe i told you this, no? - In order to keep it that way I need to martyr myself. I know it seems like the words I said of love are cruel and maybe even tasteless by now, but never doubt that they are true. I do love you and even beyond the grave I will continue to. I saw the test, love - I’m sorry I didn’t call but if I did it would have held me back. I would have wanted to stay, I would have wanted to stay with you if I held you in that hell - sent office for a moment longer. And I know you may or may not decide to keep it and I know I don’t deserve it - but if it’s a girl . . I really like the name Tomie, Tomie Dazai has a nice ring to it if you decide to use my last name - Will you do that for me?. know it will be hard being alone for now - I sent chuuya to look out for you, he’s a tad clueless when it comes to you but he’s fairly intelligent and I’m sure he will figure it out quickly. — maybe in another life, my love. Maybe we could have had it another way where it would be me and you. `

` —sending all my heart and then some more , your osamu.`

#―୨୧⋆ ˚ ꒰ beast dazai ꒱#✎ᝰ ꒰ thoughts ꒱#osamu dazai x reader #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #beast #beast dazai #―୨୧⋆ ˚ ꒰ osamu dazai ꒱#beast dazai x reader

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