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#yeah am!reader spoils him BAD

kysuguru · 9 months

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i love the last rin or shin? its so quirky and cute like satoru is absolutely so spoiled and reader does it without realizing she spoils him sooo bad😖hes so baby and a big head. he will throw a tantrum if her attention isnt on him for a sec!

but what if satoru founds out reader’s first crush was nanami? or suguru? i wanna see him throw a big fat tantrum LOL hes going to wail that reader doesnt love him and bullies whoever reader used to like and try to act like that person. or give reader the silent treatment which confuses her ?? maybe shoko accidentally puts out that reader and nanami or suguru went on one date and that puts satoru in the worst mood the entire week. yes WEEK.

ok so that one shot is from a series where both gojo AND geto are love interests, so i don’t think gojo would mind when it came to geto and the reader. but NANAMI? ohhh he’s such a big baby.

“okay!” satoru slams a hand down on your conjoined desks, startling everybody. you jolt a bit in your seat, your widened eyes trailing up and catching sight of his mischievous face.

“what is it now?” shoko drones, closing her book.

satoru sits down next to suguru, making sure to squeeze against him obnoxiously close before he’s opening his mouth with a big grin, “it’s time to talk crushes! [name]! go!!!!”

with the quickness of his finger as he points it at you and how he has no hesitancy with saying your name, both shoko and suguru knew the entire purpose of this sudden interrogation.

satoru was nosey. and a jealous bastard.

and even though suguru makes a face, he’s curious, too.

you stammer, suddenly put under the spotlight, “c-crush? me? what’s this about all of a sudden?”

“it’s not only you! everyone will say someone they’ve had a crush on! you just happen to be first,” satoru is excited, leaning in as he awaits your answer. as if he’s expecting what it’ll be.

that makes you sweat. but with the promise of everyone doing the same thing, you were more prepared to go. besides, you were kind of curious as to who were the lucky people shoko and suguru crushed on.

you fiddle with your fingers as your lips part, “well uhm,” satoru leans forward in his seat, eager. your eyes meet his for a split second. “i used to kind of have a thing for.. for kento-kun..”

…

nobody speaks for awhile. suguru and satoru’s faces contort. shoko looks close to laughing.

“i.. i didn’t know you- you liked the brooding type.” shoko takes a small breath in between as she tries to the best of her abilities not to laugh in the boys’ faces. she’s lying, with your obvious crush on suguru, she knew very well.

“it was only for like a week, i swear!!” you wave your hands in front of your face frantically, embarrassed and regretful of even answering in the first place. why did you have to set the example?

satoru has been oddly silent, you notice. which is odd because he looked so excited earlier.

you look to him and see him sporting the biggest pout. your jaw drops.

“s-satoru?!”

he turns away from you dramatically, not gracing you with an answer.

suguru’s smiling now, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and his lips are tight. you wonder what you did wrong..

shoko succumbs and snickers into her elbow.

“do you still like him?” suguru’s voice is strained, as he tries to keep up his norma demeanor.

you shake your head instantly in denial, “no! no! like i said it was just for a week! we’re just friends now..”

and even though you clarified that, and watched as a subtle relief overtook suguru’s expression. satoru was still silent.

even after you all went to your respective rooms for the night. the next day during class, and even when you all gathered your desks together again to talk about whatever whenever.

you loved satoru’s presence, it’s only been a day of him ignoring you yet your hurt was in so much pain you’d think he’d broken up with you.

suddenly, after walking shoko and suguru to their rooms, bidding them a good night, satoru latches onto you.

you’re shocked, initially, but it doesn’t take long for you to reciprocate the embrace, and satoru revels in that.

“don’t do this with nanami, okay?”

“w-why would i do this with him?”

“it doesn’t matter, just don’t do it.”

“will you stop ignoring me if i do?” what a dangerous proposal.

“of course!” he’s beaming at you again. you missed him.

of course, a hug with nanami sounds divine, but why jeopardize your special friendship with satoru over something that might never happen?

you melt in his arms and sigh with content. satoru is smug as he tightens his grip, cursing the first year in his head who probably wouldn’t even care if the entire ordeal was brought to his attention.

satoru gojo has been a spoilt brat since birth, he wasn’t sure how he would fare in school, but he’s ecstatic to say your bias towards him is worth more than any expensive object the gojo clan could provide him.

gojo is a little SHIT. and i’m sure he would still be a baby abt it in his adult years, but i also feel he would handle it just a liiiiitle bit better. anyways air head reader who enables him simply because she loves him and will do anything to keep him around. trying to write her to fit tohru and sawako because i heart them.

also thx for this ask i love detailed asks like these ur the best ever anon <333333

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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader - reader POV

You have a problem.

You miss your neighbor.

He's been gone for two and a half weeks, and every day you catch yourself holding your breath, listening for him next door. Watching for the light on his balcony, checking your phone relentlessly.

You've been worrying, anxiety turning into a gnawing ache beneath your ribs, wondering about how he is, what he's doing, if he's okay. If he's safe.

He'll text you. Right? When he's home? He said he would, didn't he? You're not sure. Not sure of anything when it comes to him, confusing thoughts and feelings turning over and over in your head every second, twisted up and tangled in your heart.

You've friend zoned yourself, you know it. Relying on him too much, asking him for help all the time, inviting him for dinners but too afraid to try to take the next step. And didn't you do it to yourself anyway? Didn't you ask him to babysit for you, so you could go out on a date with some asshole that didn't even show? He's your friend. He's your neighbor.

Yeah but he asked you to go for dinner, the night you were sick. And he rushed to you and Emma when that creep was following you in the park. Doesn't that mean something?

He asked you AND Emmaline to dinner, not like on a romantic date. And he did the same thing anyone would do, if they thought their friend was in trouble, didn't he?

He doesn't act like your neighbor. He acts more like... a husband, than anything else.

Not knowing is confusing, and on top of your grief, it makes you feel a little more vulnerable than you care to admit, but you can't deny your own truth. You like him. Even Emmaline likes him, little face smiling up at him every chance she gets, staring at him like he's the whole world. Maybe he is. You can't help but swoon over the way she interacts with him, how she settles so easily with him, how she coos and babbles at him like she's having a whole conversation with him. When he walks into a room, she lights up like the sun, happy baby giggles and everything, the sweet sounds of her glee at her favorite person's face like music to your ears. So unfair. You suffered for sixteen hours trying to give birth to her, alone... and he comes around for a few months and all the sudden you've been replaced.

You can't blame her too much, you guess. You get it. He's... something else. Something you're not sure you understand. Something you don't know you're ready for.

Still, you think he might feel the same way.

You shake your head. Stop. You're getting so far ahead of yourself.

Which is why you've convinced yourself that when he's home, the next time you see him, you're just going to buck up and do it. You're going to tell him how you feel. No matter how hard it is.

You've even practiced what you'll say. Staring at yourself in the mirror nervously, reciting different ways to say 'hey Simon I really like you and was wondering if you want to go out on a date even though I have a baby and am basically a widow.'

Emmaline cries, announcing that she's awake, and you're so quick to soothe her, holding her to your chest, whispering a good morning to her, rubbing her back and tummy as you always do. You think some people might say you're spoiling her, that you're not letting her cry long enough, that you're teaching her bad habits or manners but you can't help it. Her father died before she was even born. You're the only thing she has in this world, the only person that gives her love, that makes her feel safe-

or at least, you used to be.

You hear your neighbor in his flat hours and hours later. Well past sunset, Emmaline already sleeping in her crib, your dishes already done, little chores taken care of, and you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a movie at a low hum.

Was that- is he?

You sit straight up, straining to listen. It takes a second, but eventually, you recognize the tell tale sound of an interior door closing, and then the balcony glows with the light from the inside.

He's home. You take a large gulp of wine, and a deep breath. Just go over there, and tell him how you feel.

Your fingers curl into a fist, hesitantly knocking at his door, holding your breath. When there's no response, you try again, a little louder, and then feel immense relief when the lock clicks.

Until it opens.

Simon doesn't look like himself. He looks lost. Haunted. There's remnant of black grease around his eyes and instead of being maskless or wearing the usual cloth one, his head is mostly covered by a balaclava bearing a skull, and his eyes are blank. Dark. Something is off.

"Hi." You squeak, and cringe inwardly, stomach flipping like you're on a carnival ride. You raise the two bottles of beer that you brought over with a meek smile, gesturing to them and the monitor. "Thought we could um... try this again?"

"No." His refusal is flat, rough, and you blink in surprise. No?

"Oh- I uh... just thought-"

"It's not a good time." He cuts you off, and then before you can even get another word out, the front door closes in your face, leaving you outside in the hall, bewildered. Hurt.

Guess he doesn't like you after all.

#lmao I'm sorry #peaches writes #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #light on

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miserycanary · 1 month

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MY MILITARY POOKIES ᡣ𐭩

pairings: König, Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Price & fem!reader

synopsis: how they'd react to you calling them 'pookie'

tags: pure fluff (as an apology for the angst)

| König - oblivious, betrayed

“Pookie, could you please get that jar for me?” Silence, no answer. You turn just to be met with König’s furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of his head. “What?” you chuckled, backing up as he approached you. His arms circle your waist and his face buries itself on the crook of your neck. He says something. His lips move against your ticklish skin, making you giggle. “What are you saying?” He peers from where he’s hiding, sulking and pouting.

“Who’s Pookie?”

Realization hits you and you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach and doubling over, further confusing König. “O-oh, my g-god! You think... You think pookie is a name?” you asked, between laughter. “B-babe, it’s a petname!” you finally clear up. With a sigh of relief, König slumps his whole body onto you making you bump into the counter. “Woah, big guy,” you groan out. Placing his hands under your thighs, he effortlessly lifts you and places a kiss on your lips. “It’s ugly. I like Liebe more,” he mutters, making you giggle louder. “Okay, meine Leibe,” you mumble, kissing back and wrapping your arm around his neck and your legs around his waist.

| Simon - disgusted but loves you too much

With Simon, it was genuinely a mistake.

“Love, where’s the scissors?” “It’s in the kitchen, pookie,” you answer, looking up from your phone and motioning toward the kitchen island. When you notice nothing moving, you look at him and immediately laugh after seeing his disgusted face. “What’s with your face?” you exclaim, holding your phone and snapping a picture. “Don’t ever call me pookie again,” he gruffs, rolling his eyes.

Days after that, you decided to try it again— on purpose this time. “Pookie, can we go on a picnic this Saturday?” you plead with a pout. Simon looks at you incredulously, standing up and walking away without answering you (you guys still went on a picnic).

“Pookie, please,” you try again. This time, he only let 2 seconds pass before sighing and giving you whatever you wanted. After two more times after calling him that, he now answers without realizing it. You chuckle after noticing that he doesn’t even protest anymore.

“So, you like pookie now?” you tease him one random afternoon, laying on his chest while he relaxes on the couch. “No, I don’t.” You only roll your eyes at Si's obvious lie, tracing shapes on his chest.

“It doesn’t seem that way.” “I don’t like the name pookie; I love you enough to put up with that ugly thing,” he grumbles, making you blush and pepper his face with kisses. “Aw, Si! You big softie.”

| Price - not even fazed, used to your unusual antics

“Pookieee,” you whine, pressing your cheek against his. “Yes, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” he answers, grabbing you by the waist and situating your figure so that you’re straddling his thighs. “I want lasagna,” you pout, licking a spot on Price's neck and sucking.

“It’s 2:34 AM, my love,” he sighs, looking down on you with adoration. You stay quiet, still giving him neck kisses while your hands go underneath his shirt and wrap themselves around his waist. He chuckles at your childish attitude, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You spoiled baby. Go get ready,” Price mumbles against your skin. With a squeal, you hop off his lap and run to get changed, making him shake his head with a soft smile.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: felt bad for all the angst, so here you guys are. A bit OOC König but yeah. Also, taglists are open if you want to be tagged in future posts.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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straykeedz · 2 months

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riding soft dom!chan while he praises you is all i can think about

and now it’s all i can think about 🤧

EDIT: i’m sorry anon i just re-read ur request and u wanted the praise!! :( he doesn’t really praise her that much, maybe 1/2 time?? i’m sorry, i let my imagination run a little too wild with this one :(((((((((

smut below the cut, minors dni.

tw [female anatomy ; daddy kink ; unprotected piv sex (don’t!!) ; dirty talk ; degradation?? (he calls reader ‘slut’ a few times and ‘bitch’ once but she loves it - she is me, i am her) ; creampie]

you are on top of him, and has his hands on your waist and his lip between his teeth, eyes focused on where your bodies meet.

“pretty pussy swallowing me whole,” he grunts, gripping your hips a bit tighter. “you like daddy’s cock don’t you?”

you nod, easing yourself onto his length, hips rising and falling again as he fills you up perfectly. “yes, hmmmm” you moan, “da-daddy’s cock ‘s so big. ‘s perfect for me”

chris nods, biting his lips. from underneath you, he jerks his hips upwards, enoch causes you to let out a tiny yelp. “such a pretty little pussy, such a dirty mouth.” he slaps your asscheek, then gropes it. “‘s okay, though. love it when my baby gets dirty for me.”

you move up and down his cock, coating it entirely with your arousal. you place your hands on chris’ chest. you continue to ride him for a while, but your knees start to feel weak, and your movements on top of his body become a little more frantic and irregular, and chris notices.

“aww, my baby’s gettin’ tired?” he mocks you, smirking at you, still guiding your movements on his cock with the help of his hands on your hips. “thought you liked fuckin’ yourself on daddy’s cock. you’re a spoiled little slut, aren’t you? well i’m sorry baby, but today you’re gonna work for it.”

you love it when he calls you a slut. he feels incredibly bad afterwards, though, so he doesn’t really do it that often.

you nod. “‘m daddy’s slut. call me that, call me that again,” your moans get more and more high-pitched, a clear signal you’re getting close to your finish.

in a matter of seconds chris sits up on the mattress, resting his back against the headboard and latching his lips on your neck. “my little slut,” he moans against your skin, landing another slap on your asscheek. “always hungry for cock,” he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, humming.

you ride him faster, clit repeatedly brushing the lower part of his abdomen and in his pubic hair. “‘m always needy f-for you. always need your cock.”

usually, chris would help you cum by rubbing your clit. not tonight. not when he’s in charge tonight. he’ll do it tomorrow, though, when you’ll be in charge and he’ll be calling you mommy, begging for you to let him cum. not tonight. tonight, you gotta work for it. and work for it you do, because after a couple of minutes later you’re clenching around him and whimpering as you release around his cock until your juices coat his cock, dribbling on his balls and ass.

“ye-yeah, that’s right. like this, baby,” chris praises you as you move on top of his cock. “fuckin’ came all over me like the good girl you are. can’t wait to cum inside this slutty pussy, can’t wait to fuckin’ fill you up.”

“d-do it. do it, daddy. fill me up.“

and chris loses it, starting to thrust into you at a quick pace, holding you by the waist. “needy bitch,” he moans loudly, hips snapping against yours. “yeah, yeah. ‘m gonna fill you up now. you want it? you want my cum?” you nod, brain all fuzzy, your legs are starting to give in.

he pulls back to look you in the eyes - “then beg for it.”

#📨: anon #channie <3 #bang chan smut #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan hard hours #bangchan smut #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bang chan drabbles #bangchan drabble

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chuuyrr · 3 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ᐟ

feat. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: bsd men as girl dads to their daughters

ꨄ˙ CW(s): f! mom! reader, established relationship (married to your lover ofc), fluff, short scenarios, not proofread

DAZAI was humming the quiet melody of his 'certain' song as he cradles his little one. the baby in his arms was sniffling, crying softly and practically looking at him with tearful brown eyes that resembles his. he gently hushes and cradles baby sonoko in his arms, his soothing hums a lullaby in the quiet room.

sonoko was a captivating blend of both you and dazai. with her dark hair that mirrored dazai's locks and the bright twinkle in her [color] eyes reminiscent of your own, she was practically a living canvas of your shared features.

dazai gently rocks baby sonoko in his arms, whispering soothing words to calm her cries. the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating a serene atmosphere. he cradles her close, the warmth of his embrace a comforting haven.

"hush, my little one," he murmurs, his voice a gentle melody. "there, there, sonoko. daddy is here." dazai presses a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with paternal affection, "no need for tears, little darling."

he softly sang a lullaby, the words weaving through the air like a protective cocoon. as the room embraced a peaceful stillness, sonoko's cries transformed into quiet sniffles.

dazai continued to sway gently, cherishing the precious moment of connection with his baby girl. he places her head against his chest, manipulating his heart beat into a calming rate to ground her with its sound.

you lay in bed, exhausted, but you find yourself smiling in the calmness of the night as you see your husband and daughter share a quiet bond, the world outside fading away. dazai's love for sonoko radiated in every soothing touch, a promise to always be there, hushing away any fears or tears that may come.

"you're doing that thing with your heart again, aren't you?" you whisper softly to dazai, quietly giggling.

dazai glances at you, still cradling the fruit of your love to his chest, he gently strides to your side and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead, "yeah, i am."

"i still don't get how you do that though, but it works, doesn't it?" you say softly as you see how your baby girl is all calm now.

you extend your arms to reach for sonoko but dazai gently refuses to do so, and he shakes his head as he insists, "shh, let me look after her. you go get some rest, darling."

"are you sure, osamu? sonoko can get a bit fussy," you ask softly as dazai uses his free hand that wasn't carrying sonoko to gently push you to lie back down in bed and pull the blanket over your chest.

"i'm certain. please, my love. you're exhausted from feeding her and looking after. it's daddy's turn to take over, okay?" dazai chuckles softly as sonoko began to coo and pat her tiny hands against her daddy, "we're ok."

"okay," you giggle quietly as you look at your husband and daughter, "try not to give your daddy a bad time, okay sonoko?"

sonoko merely coo and giggle at the sound of your voice before they intensified in volunme when dazai started to tickle her sides and pepper her cute round face in kisses, the rain of affection from her father making her happy.

CHUUYA sighs, holding baby saika in his arms as her cries echoed through the room. he paced around, trying to replicate the comfort saika found in her mother's presence—your presence.

although your child resembled very much like you, she got her traits and personality mostly from chuuya. she even throws quite the fuss when she was upset, and chuuya only realizes it now that you're away for a while.

"shh, saika, it's okay. come on, now." he whispers softly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and longing.

despite his best efforts to spoil her with affection, saika's cries persisted and he feels a pang of helplessness, "mommy will be back soon, little one. until then, it's just you and me, okay?" chuuya continued to sway, his touch tender and caring.

but saika's cries merely intensified, and chuuya's frustration grew. he couldn't replace the warmth and comfort that only her mother seemed to provide.

chuuya's heart sank as he looked down at his precious little one, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with a mix of sadness and yearning. he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, an ache in his chest as he desperately wished he could ease her distress.

"come on, saika," chuuya whispers softly, his voice a blend of sorrow and affection. he cradles her even closer, tracing gentle circles on her back. "what's making you so upset, huh? don't you want toys? food? sweetheart, please."

saika's tiny lips quivered, and her cries persisted. chuuya's usual fiery determination waned in the face of his daughter's tears. money and gifts meant nothing in this moment. though he had her spoiled with everything and anything, she didn't seem to want any of those things as she would only squirm, kick and throw those things away in a tantrum.

in a moment of realization, chuuya gently sets aside the lavish toys and the carefully prepared food. he holds saika to his face and he looks into her teary eyes and finally, he understood the true source of her distress.

"it's not about the toys or the treats, is it, saika?" he muses softly, a smile forming on his face. cradling her up in his arms, he held her close, focusing on the simple act of giving her his undivided attention.

as he spoke soothingly to her, chuuya sensed the shift in saika's mood. her cries slowly gave way to sniffles, and she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. realizing that what she craved was the connection with her daddy, chuuya embraced the simplicity of the moment.

"dada's right here, baby," he whispers to saika, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, "i got you."

in that instant, the room was filled not with the extravagant gifts he could provide, but with the warmth of a father's love that proved to be the most comforting of all.

he bounced her tenderly as he swayed around the room, the rhythm calming her sniffles. chuuya presses another soft kiss on her forehead, and saika's tiny hands clung to his shirt, finding solace in the familiar embrace.

as you entered the room later on, a tired yet content smile adorned chuuya's face. his hair was tied in a low ponytail with stickers and traces of food decorated his face. in his arms, little saika peacefully slept, nestled against his chest, her [color] hair braided with small butterfly clips.

chuuya looked up, and his eyes softened at the sight of you, "hey there, love," he greets you quietly, careful not to wake saika, "we had a little adventure, but someone decided it was time for a nap."

you couldn't help but giggle fondly at the adorable scene before you. the stickers and food smudges on your husband seemed like badges of a day well spent. saika, oblivious to your arrival, continued to sleep soundly in her father's arms.

quietly, chuuya rose from his spot, carefully transferring saika to her crib. as he joined you, he sighs happily and captures your lips in a tender kiss, "looks like our little one just wanted some dada time today." the exhaustion in his eyes was overshadowed by the joy of the shared moments.

"seems like it," you say softly as you wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss once again, "but hey, you did good. thanks for looking after saika."

"don't mention it, we're in this together. i can't have my darling wife do everything. you deserved a well-rested break today," chuuya whispers against your lips as nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.

FYODOR cradled his precious lyubov on his lap, her wide eyes filled with curiosity. with a tender smile, he began to read from a novel, his deep yet gentle voice resonating through the quiet space.

"once upon a time, in the turbulent depths of the human soul, there lived a complex character named raskolnikov. he grappled with existential questions, much like the profound mysteries we face in our own lives," fyodor narrates, his gaze shifting between the words on the page and the wide-eyed innocence in lyubov's eyes.

as he continued reading, the intricate plot and philosophical undertones of the novel intertwined with the gentle rhythm of lyubov's breathing. fyodor couldn't help but adapt the narrative, transforming it into a bedtime story that echoed the complexities of morality and human nature.

lyubov, oblivious to the weighty themes, giggled in delight at her father's animated expressions. fyodor, in turn, savored the precious moments, cherishing the bond he was cultivating with his daughter.

as lyubov listened to her father's storytelling, a contagious giggle bubbled up from within her. with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she pointed at the novel in fyodor's hands.

giggling at the sight of her father's earnest storytelling, little lyubov couldn't contain her innocence as she pointed at the pages in amusement.

lyubov, with her jet-black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to her father, fyodor. the deep purple hue of her eyes mirrored his own, reflecting a shared intensity that seemed to peer into the depths of the human soul.

yet, amidst these echoes of her father's traits, her features held a delicate familiarity, capturing the essence of her other parent—you. the gentle curve of her nose and the subtle arch of her eyebrows were reminiscent of your own distinct features too.

in a moment of quiet amusement, you turned to fyodor, your husband, a playful glint in your eyes, "isn't she a tad too young for stories like that, darling?" you ask, your laughter blending with the warmth of the dimly lit room as you enter your baby's room.

fyodor, with a gentle smile, glanced at lyubov, who had now nestled herself comfortably against his chest, before looking at you, "perhaps, my love," he replies, his voice carrying a touch of self-awareness, "but the beauty of storytelling is that it grows with the listener. however, if you insist, then i suppose i'll find tales more suited to her age, tales that will weave the magic of childhood without delving too deep into the complexities of the human psyche."

as lyubov cooed and giggled in response to your shared laughter, fyodor couldn't help but join in the merriment.

with a twinkle in his eye, he gently teases, "my, my. look at this, darling. it seems our little one has a taste for the profound, even if the words are a bit too deep for her tender age. perhaps we have a budding philosopher in our midst."

"perhaps, fedya," you say with a playful glint in your eyes, your lips curving into a smile.

you and fyodor share a tender kiss, the laughter lingering in the air as a sweet reminder that, in the midst of literature's complexities and parenting's challenges, there's always room for joy and lighthearted moments in the embrace of family love as lyubov was still nestled in fyodor's embrace, she continued to babble and gurgle, her infectious laughter filling the room.

ꨄ˙ A.N.: sonoko's name came from one of the dazai osamu's actual children. saika translates to fortune with its kanji meaning happiness and the moon. it was inspired by the poems of upon the tainted sorrow and the moon of the actual nakahara chuuya, but i purposely alluded the name to happiness instead. lyubov means love, and it is also the name of one of the actual children of fyodor dostoevsky. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ꨄ˙ TAGGING.: @chuunai @aureatchi (っ'ヮ'c) ₊˚⊹♡ !

this is a queued post by the way . . .

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suguru-getos · 6 months

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha thirst #mha thirst #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months

Text

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it.

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you.

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks.

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick.

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.”

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance.

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots.

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#svthub #wonwoo smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #svt wonwoo #svt vernon #jeon wonwoo #hansol vernon chwe #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

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lostfracturess · 17 days

Text

symptoms and causes | ch. 11

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem.

I don't know how.

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now?

I knew this was right.

Right for her.

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him.

Sorry.

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense.

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered.

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care.

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied.

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.

This was my punishment.

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her.

How could I not?

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it?

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her.

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.

No, she didn't know I'd set it up.

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.

My blood roared in my ears.

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open.

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna.

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right.

In his twisted way, he was.

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course.

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel.

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair.

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five?

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak.

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many.

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.

I reached for the syringe and read the label.

Adrenaline.

Smart girl.

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror.

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it?

How much power this woman had over me.

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish.

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life.

Not until her.

Not until she changed me completely.

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her.

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.

Nothing.

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?

Because she does.

She deserves everything.

She is everything.

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized.

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything.

"Say something, Satoru."

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!"

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her. Gods, how I love her.

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was.

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Second-year lecture.

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.

But I knew it was wrong.

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence.

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open.

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares.

Another night of that shit.

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault.

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her.

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself.

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?

It was over.

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch.

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips.

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me.

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh?

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter?

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me.

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her.

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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buckyysdoll · 10 months

Text

— 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —

જ⁀➴ — summary: self explanatory; a/n: i’m down SO bad for him <3 -> @bakersbucky + @jvanilly — tagged for ur comments on the dating bucky hcs! <3; cw: light allusions to smut, canon-typical ref to bucky’s nightmares/trauma; pairing: bucky x f!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

• of course he cried when you told him — he never thought he’d have OR deserve a happy ending :’)

• he secretly wants a daughter so he can spoil both his girls, and he’s privately dreamt for years about the family you’d one day have

• but there’s just something about him seeing your face reflected in his little girl’s 😭 and knowing she’d have your eyes, your smile, and all those parts he adored

• “she’s gonna have your eyes, and your laugh. and i’m gonna love the two of you until i take my last breath on this earth” *😭*

• and so as your baby grows within you, you two stay up late at night in bed talking — he’s tracing the curve of your stomach so softly with his ordinary hand as he’s saying, oh she’s definitely a girl.

• or the conversation goes something like this:

— b: [whispers] i just can’t wait to meet her

— you: [smiling like a lovesick idiot] her? you think she’s a girl?

— b: of course she is, doll, i can feel it.

— you: [smiling even wider] yeah? and how could you possibly know?

— b: i’m a super soldier sweetheart. call it instinct😌

• talks to the bump, sleeps with a hand on your stomach, mother hens you so much

• bucky’d be very precious with you when it came to sex because of his strength - saying “what if i hurt our little bump?” - when meanwhile you’re laying there horny as fuck

• and so you say, “sweetheart, as much as i love you for this i am begging you to take off your shirt”

• at first, he also won’t touch you with his vibranium arm when you’re pregnant

• and with you being you — his wife — of course you notice

• and so you gently take that hand in yours and lay it on your bump and he just weeps that he can have this after all he’s seen and done

• bucky also definitely tries to make up random diy baby bits in the middle of the night

• and you tease him for how frustrated he gets with this furniture from “fucking ikea”

• especially when he then accidentally underestimates his strength and snaps the damn thing in half

• he carries you everywhere — “bucky i’m pregnant, i still have legs” // “and you also have a husband that can do the walking for you”

• gives you massages every night, wherever u want them [;) <3]

• reads literally all the baby books he can get his hands on and gets in a panic at the slightest pain or cramp — frets, “it didn’t say this in the book” or otherwise, “just breathe, doll, alright? i’ll hold you through it”

• the darker, more possessive side of him that he never quite lost (and that you loved) absolutely thrills that you’re pregnant with his child, but he tries hard to bury that part of him — though you absolutely fold at that look on his face

• in truth, he went so quiet and inward when he found out the news and u thought he wasn’t happy

• when really he’s just so fucking scared cos after all this time he still doesn’t see himself as safe

• he’ll stay up hours refusing to sleep so he can just count your breaths, and protect you. his Winter Soldier past came back full force, and hence so did that protective, defensive side. he would’ve killed for his girls.

• “what if something happens? *his voice cracks* what if i hurt our child?” 😭 and his nightmares now reflect this new fear — night terrors have him up at night, eyes wide and skin slick with sweat.

• so when he has them and you need your sleep the further along you get, he sneaks off into the living room to sleep on the couch instead

• and you’d wake up every time and seem to sense that he’s not there — or your baby kicks as if she wants to tell you bucky’s gone

• cos you know he’s not the only one that’s protective of the love of his life <3 — n you say “who’s the super soldier now, huh? you can’t get away from me that easy <3”

• because the morning then finds him with your arms around his middle as you’d scooted to lay behind him on the sofa, your bump to his back.

• your marriage was a two way street and you’d be damned if he didn’t let you comfort him, too. and it’s only when your baby kicks hard at your stomach at the moment that his metal hand was on it, that he’s convinced at last — even if only a little bit, yet — that before she’s even born, his daughter trusts him

• cos it turns out he was right that she’s a girl, his babygirl <3

• bucky’ll come home from a mission and drop his bag straight to the hardwood floor, asking “how are my girls?” with tears in his voice, before kissing your lips, then your bump*

• he gets incredibly soft and clingy — even more so than normal — every time he gets home. He’ll bury his head in your neck and just listen to your heart, hear the proof that you’re with him

• he loves her to bits even before she’s born, and he’s such a total girl dad already. he even loves her more than life when you’ve almost hit full term, and while kissing his way down your body she deliberately kicks — cockblocking her daddy.

• you laugh and you’re so so in love when he leans down and whispers, “excuse me, little one. this is a moment between me and your mother.” but it’s just no good cos every time you get closer to that point, you’re interrupted.

• he always gives in to your weird cravings, and will run to the store no matter what the time is. and if he ever gives you that look because you’re eating pickles straight from the jar, you’ll fix him with a look of your own and say, “honey you lived through world war two, i know you ate weirder shit than this”

• you always wear his shirts around the house with just your undies, and dear god it makes him so. fucking. horny

• it gets him so so proud, so protective and possessive

• speaking of, those aforementioned missions he goes on from now on? he’s absolutely insufferable

• sam teases him no end for it, but really his heart warms for his friend. especially when he’s on the phone mid-fight asking you to put the phone to your bump so he can talk to his little girl

• it’ll either be, “i just needed to hear your voice, doll”// or conversely, “i want her to know my voice” -> the two of you are his whole entire world

• so within no time at all, he flat out refuses to do them at all — he semi-retires and sam understands; he’s secretly proud of him too, just like you.

• bucky is genuinely the world’s most amazing father and you’re so, so honoured to call him the dad to your little girl

• you’re always walking in on tea parties between the two of them, and you’d be jealous at how close they are if you didn’t adore it so fucking much. she’s a daddy’s girl through n through, and who could ever blame her? you were bucky’s girl too <3

• in fact, you once walked in (it’s happened often) on her fully doing her daddy’s makeup, sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor when you come home after a shift. you couldn’t help but just stand there in the doorway crying happy, happy tears at this new life that you’d made

• it was such a far cry from the darkness you know that he’d felt for so much of his life

• and if he still takes on some missions when he has little choice, once his daughter is born? he proudly goes off to fight fascists with the remnants of pink nail polish on his fingers

• or better still, sometimes there’s glitter still left on his cheeks from the makeover he’d gotten the night before

• calls your baby “sweetheart” n has nicknames just for her — “babygirl”

• he lets you sleep with a soft “i’ll get her, love” when your daughter can’t yet sleep through the night. and you see him, the White Wolf, the ex-Winter Soldier with that smile on his face, rocking his daughter in his arms and you just think — who ever would’ve known?

• your love, your beautiful husband, had come so far from the person he’d been. bucky had healed, day by day and step by step with you walking beside him

• idea from that post i saw yrs ago on pinterest — she grows up thinking her mom’s name is “doll” because that’s what she hears her daddy call you. and it’s hilarious the first time it happens, cos she’d only just really begun to talk — and what does she say when you fill up her bottle of juice? “thank you, doll” in that little baby voice.

• bucky just burst out laughing, and you joined him. that absolute smartass <3

• your daughter grows up to you two being those parents that are embarrassingly, sickeningly in love, but that are a safe space in the home that they’ve made for her friends, if they need somewhere to stay.

• and being an ex-avenger who looks the way he does 👀 you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t become a well-renowned dilf to her friends

• his arc with you is exactly just like bucky by the end of tfatws🥲 he goes through so much growth and it’s so, so beautiful. he’s so beautiful

• and he does the arm thing, where your little girl just clings to him like a koala. she’ll giggle like hell and that’s just why he does it — so he can see the smile she inherited from you in his beautiful girl.

• even if the first time you walked in on it happening, you just were a little like 😵‍💫 honey, why are you swinging our daughter around?

• he carries her on his shoulders around the house just because she loves it <3

• and he loves you both enough that he soon starts to love himself <3

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

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deadghosy · 2 months

Note

I am in desperate need of more chibi!reader.

What if chibi makes mini cakes in their little mini kitchen and decorates them to the characters colors, and possibly flavor preferences?

Thanks if you do this

❤️ anon

AWW THATS SO CUTEEE!!!💗🦆

CUTE HEADCANNNONS ABOUT CHIBI!READER

WARNING: FLUFF💗🦆

You sometimes snuggle with husk as if he was a mother cat as he purrs having his arm over your small chubby body.

Imagine you and Angel having your own poses with Angel. You and Angel definitely have a whole bunch of photos which is so cool.

Imagine you and your bad ASS HOT PINK PRETTY PRINCESS CAR GOING FOR A JOY RIDE! with of course Lucifer beside you as he controls a toy car that has duck designs on it. I mean shittt you guys race as if you are depending your lives on it

Your car broke down…(Angel forgot to change the batteries for you) you sniffled “depressed” until Angel came back to shown you your new HOT GLAMOUR HOT PINK CAR WITH SPARKLES!?

Yeah….you definitely used it to run over someone’s toes as you smirked with your shades on like a badass bitch.

You have an easy bake oven…

NOW CMONNNN YOOU CANT LIE CHIBI! READER BE COOKIN OUT HERE😭

Literally the crew bought you a mini kitchen set and let you decorate it to your [aesthetic] as you smiled having your hands to your hips as you smiled at this.

Vaggie and Charlie sleeping with you beside them like a baby as you twitch 😭ima cry because that’s actually do adorable imaging a baby chibi reader who sleep so cozy to the point you wanna squish their cheeks.

You feed the crew your mini dishes from your mini kitchen which makes them smile at your effort. You accidentally burnt yourself but you huff with a determined squeak as you kept cooking for them.

You were the one who would put bows in alastor’s hair…and Alastor smiled softly at your affection towards him.

A chubby chibi reader who rubs their cheek against the cast’s thumbs with a soft squeak needy for attention for once as they were getting ignored.

A cute headcannon is that, the cast makes a Day schedule who youvwokd be with every week as it’s just fun tk see you come out of the person’s room with a new attitude and clothing choice.

You patted a toy duck thinking it was real as you made a “quack” sound with a squeak as it was heart aching to Lucifer as he grabs where his heart is and recorded the whole thing

You are having a bubble bath tired in a toy tub like I said before as Charlie coos at how cute you are as she scrubs your soft hair

Your favorite cartoon is hello kitty + SpongeBob as it showed how childish you are and were

I headcannon reader to waddle up against to sir Pentious to show how much you love him. That made him tear up a bit as he shows you off to his eggs

You yawn as you snuggle against anything….ANYTHING! You freaking name it-

You definitely get babied like a real baby but you don’t complain as you just be spoiled rotten by affection. They sure damn know

Imagine reader holding a small toy duck as they softly snooze. Like and there is a this ambience music in the background which makes the reader pass out faster.

Alastor has you on his desk as he makes a broadcast as a victim who tried to stomp on you has been murdered…not like you know anyways.

You are definitely the one people can’t leave for a minute as you would piss anyone off in a second. But you are so cute anyone could forgive you.

THATS ALL I HAVE FOR CUTE HCS🦆💗✨

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4ngel-inc · 3 months

Text

｡･:*:･ﾟᰔ 𝓑𝓤𝓝𝓖𝓞 𝓢𝓣𝓡𝓐𝓨 𝓓𝓞𝓖𝓢 — WHEN THEY HURT YOUR FEELINGS

notes — i wrote this for myself & my fellow sensitive bbs :'))

warnings — kinda insecure reader in some, pretty suggestive, a little angst but all with happy endings !!

DAZAI — it hurts your feelings when one of dazai's ex-flings walks up to your table one night when you two are having dinner at your favorite restaurant, "ah- funny seeing you here, osamu. who's the lucky lady?" you glance up when you hear her call him by his first name, and the blood instantly drains from your face—she's absolutely gorgeous. it's clear dazai is only being polite as he offers a bit of small talk before his ex leaves, but she wasn't exactly friendly towards you, and that makes you a little nervous. you ask him about her on the way home, but he doesn't offer much information—"it was just a casual thing, nothing serious, i'm sure she understands." he wraps his arm around your waist tighter, protecting you from the chilly air with his coat wrapped around you, and you start to wonder, what makes you so special that he kept you around? will he grow tired of you as well? you voice your concerns that night before bed, speaking lowly as you're fluffing the pillows, "osamu, what is it you like about me?" he looks offended at that, "darling! what do you mean? i love everything about my sweet angel," he circles the bed, but you step back a little. "stop it, 'samu, i'm not special, why did you pick me?" he looks hurt, but smiles after a moment, pulling you in so he can cradle your face, "i wasn't as awful as you might think, love, i've been a true gentleman to everyone i've dated. and anyways, i didn't choose you, my heart did—i've been yours since the moment we met, i don't know how else to explain it, darling."

CHUUYA — chuuya is always very careful not to hurt your feelings, he's a gentleman in all things, putting your happiness before his own and making sure you feel safe and wanted. truthfully, he's the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, and most times, you're just downright spoiled. however, his work does take up a lot of his time, and though you've assured him you understand, sometimes, you do feel a little lonely. there are a few nights in a row he comes home without kissing you as he walks in, and he simply goes to bed while you're still on the couch watching tv without so much as an "i love you" first. you're really hurt, but you don't want to come off as needy—chuuya already has a lot to deal with at work, so you simply brush it aside. however, after a few more nights of the same thing, you crack. "chuuya?" you whisper as you peek your head into the bedroom. "mmh- yeah?" his voice is sleepy, and you feel a little bad for waking him, but you need to talk this through. "can we talk?" he sits up at that, turning on the beside lamp, "something wrong, princess?" you run your fingers through his hair before speaking, "chu," you sigh, "it really hurts my feelings when you go to bed without so much as a 'goodnight' or even a kiss, am i getting on your nerves lately or something?" his eyes widen, and he pulls you in, crushing you to him as he kisses your hair, "no- no, no, no, no. of course not. i've just been busy, angel, i'm so sorry. i'll call off work tomorrow, we'll spend the whole day together, yeah?" you smile and climb on top of him, "hmm, well, i think we should stay up all night tonight, then, what do you think?"

SIGMA — sigma absolutely hates the idea of hurting your feelings, it's almost like a foreign concept to him. he can't imagine doing anything to hurt you when his greatest goal in life is to simply keep you around for as long as possible, to love you and make you smile every single day—he's still searching for himself, and he wants to do it with you by his side. you just make him feel so warm and happy, he never wants to lose that. however, when you walk up to him one night on the casino floor, he's talking and laughing with a very beautiful woman, and it stings a little—you eye her hand as she slides it down his arm, clearly aiming to grab at his hand before his eyes dart over to you and he pulls away. "babe! what a surprise, i'm so happy to see you!" you don't answer, only eyeing the woman before she scoffs and walks away. "sigma, love, who was that?" you're trying not to let jealousy get the best of you—it's such an ugly feeling, after all. "huh? oh, just a customer. it's her first time here, she just wanted to tell me how much she likes the casino!" sigma really has no idea how beautiful he is, but his humble nature is just one thing you adore about him. he frowns when you don't answer, only watching the woman as she walks away. "babe? something wrong?" he panics a little, but the taste of your lips soothes him when you pull him in for a kiss that's probably much too passionate for others to be seeing. you hum as you pull away, "nothing at all, you just look gorgeous today, i needed a kiss."

FUKUZAWA — fukuzawa actually hurts your feelings a lot, sadly, but he's got the kindest heart in the world, so you never hold it against him for long. he's simply very blunt, so it's easy for you to feel a little dismissed sometimes. in particular, you bring him lunch at work one day, after spending literally hours on a tiny bento containing all of his favorites fashioned in an intricate design. you're so proud of your work, admiring the little details and garnishes that made it entirely worth all of the sweat (and a few tears), you even made his favorite hōjicha tea to bring with it! however, when you reach the floor of his agency and peek your head into his private office, you realize he has company, and whatever meeting he's having looks quite important. "ah, i'm sorry, y/n, you'll have to come back later." he attempts to close the door on you, but your words stop him, "oh! no, that's fine- i just wanted to bring y-" he cuts you off, "whatever it is, we can talk later, y/n. i'm busy right now." he shuts the door before you can respond, and you've never felt more embarrassed. you wander into the ada's main room before setting the lunch on dazai's desk, "dazai-san, could you eat this? i worked really hard on it, i just want someone to enjoy it," your voice breaks as you walk away. when fukuzawa arrives home later that night, he has the empty bentos in his hand, placing them on the table before approaching you on the couch, but you put a hand out to stop him, "just- don't, yukichi." he ignores your words, dropping to his knees and resting his head in your lap, "my angel, please forgive me, i was meeting with the council. let me make you dinner? lunch was excellent, truly, and it was the best tea i've ever tasted."

AKUTAGAWA — ok, akutagawa is a little clueless, so you give him a lot of leeway, but there are just some things he says and does that can't be erased, and that's especially true when he snaps at you one night, "i just want to be alone for a few minutes! is that too much to ask?" you'd followed him into the bedroom when he got home from work, making grabby hands at him, "ryuuuu," you whined, "where are my kisses?" you simply wanted to spend time with him, but now that he's yelled at you, all you want is to be as far away from him as possible. you sleep on the couch that night, even after he's begged you to come to bed, and eventually, you wake up to him sleeping on the floor next to you, not even covered in a blanket, but simply resting his head in the crook of his arm. he doesn't look comfortable at all, and your heart aches a little when he stirs, "babe? you're awake already?" "ryu, how long've you been there?" "i don't know, maybe a few hours? i couldn't sleep without you," he states nonchalantly, not even a hint of shame in his voice. you sigh, tugging on his arm, "come here, do you remember what you said to me?" he frowns, "yes, and i'm deeply sorry, i had a long day at work. i never want to hurt you, i'm just. . ." he looks down at his hands, "i'm still learning. but trust me when i say this, taking space from you is the last thing i want. coming home to you is the best part of my day."

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #fukuzawa x reader #sigma x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #osamu dazai x reader

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ot8archivesblog · 3 months

Text

Party

꒰ ͜͡➸ Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

꒰ ͜͡➸ Genre: College AU, Smut

꒰ ͜͡➸ Warnings: (Obviously) NSFW content, alcohol, mentions of drugs, cigarettes, smoking, drinking, explicit content, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, praise (like good girl)

꒰ ͜͡➸ w/c: 3,5k

꒰ ͜͡➸Masterlist

So I read this request a day ago and thought of it as really interesting because I'm currently writing a story which is similar to that, so I wanted to give this specific scenario a go.

You haven't mentioned which Gender the Reader should have, so because of the roommate being female (and as far as I know there are no mixed rooms) I will assume that the Reader is female as well.

This is actually my first attempt to write NSFW so I hope it'll be good and let me know how you think of it.

Have fun <3

(Not proof read because it's 1 am and I was too lazy so please excuse any mistakes <3)

Request by @the-unknown-daisy

Your bag hit the ground the moment you finally closed the door to your dorm room.

Your best friend was currently sitting on her bed, painting her nails, while you let yourself fall onto your bed.

"Everything okay?" She turned her head to you for a second, taking in the little ball you had curled into, before she went back to concentrating on the task ahead.

She knew you had been like this for a few weeks now and she didn't know what was bothering you.

You normally always talked with her about stuff like that, but this time you decided against it. Exam stress was getting to you and you felt as if you weren't doing enough, but it felt stupid to voice it like that.

You knew she would understand and support you, but you still didn't confide in her.

She had been so happy these past few weeks, always meeting up with Changbin and spending time with him, that you didn't want to spoil her mood with yours.

Changbin is a really nice guy and he was making her so happy, sometimes you envied her.

Of course you wished them nothing but happiness, but it often happened, that when you saw them interact, you wished to be able to have someone like that in your life too.

You weren't lucky with boys though. All your relationships had ended on a bad note and you were just annoyed by it at this point.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you getting ready for something?" Stupid question. It's Friday. There would obviously be a campus party somewhere.

Students could barely contain their desire to drink and party all week, of course no one would miss the weekend parties.

Normally you would go as well, not as often as your best friend, but also quite often. However you didn't really feel like it the past few weeks and you didn't want to drag anyone down with you.

"Yep, the party is at Changbin's dorm this time. I would have either spend the night with him or at a party anyway so it's pretty convenient." Your best friend answered, while she finally closed the bottle of nail polish.

"You're coming with me, by the way." She nonchalantly added, as she blew on her nails.

"Wait, what? When did I say yes to this plan of yours?" You tilted your head, confusion taking over your features.

Had you promised to go?

"Well you didn't. But I told Changbin I would bring you along. You've been quite down these past few weeks and I wanna cheer you up." She got up from her bed and went over to yours, sitting down next to you.

"Plus you know Changbin's roommate?" Of course you did. Who didn't know him.

"You mean Lee Minho?" Her face lit up at that.

"Exactly! Isn't that enough reason to come? He'll be hanging out with Changbin, I'll be hanging out with Changbin and you'll be hanging out with me." She beamed at you and you could only sigh.

Of course, like everyone, you thought that Minho was very attractive. Hell, their entire group of friends was. But you still felt rather down and meeting someone like him in this condition, wasn't going to get you any plus points with him.

You turned to your friend to tell her that you didn't want to come, when you noticed her smiling down at her phone.

"I'm Telling Changbin you're coming! He missed having you around too." At that point you couldn't say no any longer.

She was being so happy over the fact that you could spend the night together, that you didn't want to let her down again.

"Fine, I'll come."

The last few hours had been spend with getting ready and by now, you were already tired.

You didn't know how you'd get through the night, but your best friend was convinced that if you looked hot, you would certainly feel hot and she wasn't wrong.

You did actually feel better, if you didn't think about the tiredness seeping into your bones. An energy drink would fix that.

Your best friend was wearing a pretty white top, that stopped right above her belly-button and a short pinks skirt with high heels.

Her makeup was close to that, but not too much pink.

While you were wearing tight black jeans and a black top that had only one sleeve and also stopped right above your belly-button. However it was also V-formed, showing more of your cleavage than your besties top did.

The dorm wasn't too far so you made your way over there, slowly strolling through the night, which was immediately illuminated by the party lights.

The music was already at full power and you could nearly hear it on the entire campus.

Professors thankfully never minded, so they could keep doing their little parties.

You followed your friend, never letting go of her hand as she lead you inside the dorm, finally meeting up with Changbin.

"Hey baby, you're here." He pulled her closer by her waist and planted a soft kiss onto her lips, which probably would have turned more passionate if you hadn't been standing next to them.

"Hey there little one, I missed you." The taller male greeted you by ruffling your hair up.

"Missed you too." You replied while your eyes scanned the room.

It was already extremely full and it was only 11 pm. You didn't want to know how full it could get.

You had been to quite a few parties but you were always amazed how many people actually fit into these dorms.

They weren't small but they weren't exactly big either.

Changbin had been playing beer pong with some guys until we had interrupted him. So he resumed in doing so, while one of his arms was securely wrapped around your friends waist.

"Binnie." Your best friend whined and he chuckled.

"Sorry guys, finish without me." He turned to her and kissed her, before leading you two away.

"Minho just wrote me telling me he's on his way back with Chan." Changbin commented as he made his way through the crowd and into the kitchen, offering us something to drink.

"Where did they go?"

"They went to get the others. Jeongin was at his parents for a few hours and Chan and Minho went to get him." The older answered, while giving us two glasses.

Not even seconds after he had given them to us, the crowd outside got louder.

"Seems like they're back." Changbin chuckled and went to meet up with them. We followed him closely.

"Hey, look who is finally out of her prison." Chan joked as he side-hugged you.

You had become friends with most of them after your best friend started dating Changbin so this was pretty normal behaviour.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't know I was missed so much." You chuckled as you leaned into Chan's side, when your eyes found Minho's.

You never knew what he was thinking. Could never figure him out. He was a mystery to you and many others.

Chan left first, going to greet some friends while Changbin, Minho, your friend and you made your way to the terrace to get some air.

A lot of people were out here as well but you all sat down on the couch.

"Let's play a game." Someone suggested and everyone agreed on truth or dare. The typical party game that everyone loved to participate in when their brains were non-functional.

You were sipping on your drink while the game commenced.

Till now you had been playing it safe, mostly taking truth, as you knew not many would pick up on it due to being drunk. However someone did pick up on it.

"Three time in a row. You have to pick dare." Minho said as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes fixed on you.

It had been Changbin who had spun the bottle, so why was he interfering?

You said but complied, picking dare this time, which made Changbin grin.

"Kiss Minho."

You were left speechless for a moment. Of course you knew how the game worked, but you hadn't expected this from Changbin. He always went easy on you, which is why you hadn't really been worried when the bottle picked you.

"What, never kissed anyone? I won't bite unless you want me to." Minho commented, a smirk finding its way onto his lips.

You got up from your place, walking over to Minho.

People were sitting next to him so you couldn't do so to kiss him. While you were still contemplating what to do, his hand found your waist and pulled you onto his lap.

"Not so shy." How could you not be, when you were about to kiss the Lee Minho?

Your thighs were on either side of him, as his hands still kept a steady grip on your waist. You leaned in closer, stopping right before your lips could touch his.

At this point both of your eyes were fixed on the others lips and you could feel his smirk on yours.

"What are you waiting for, Princess?"

That's all it took for you to connect your lips.

The kiss was slow at first. Your lips still finding the perfect rhythm to move against each other. However, it didn't take long before the kiss got more heated. He bit your lower lip, asking for entrance which you immediately complied with.

His tongue found its way into your space, exploring your mouth while you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It didn't take long for his tongue to find yours, his hands moving up and down your waist at this point while you could feel that you were sitting atop his member, as he got hard.

Your hands found their way into his hair, holding onto him as you moved your hips for a second, making him bite your tongue at the movement which made you gasp in return.

You both parted from each other, a delicate string of saliva still connecting your lips to each other, as you tried to breathe in as much air as possible. This being the only reason you parted in the first place.

The game had commenced while you two had been shamelessly making out and you finally realised that you two weren't alone.

You immediately got off his lap and went back to your place, however your lips were still burning with the feeling of his on them.

The game got boring soon and most disappeared back inside, including Changbin and your friend, while you were now sitting next to Minho, still outside.

He was smoking a cigarette right now, accompanying it with a glass of vodka.

You never really smiled but at this point and the level of drunk you currently were at, you were curious.

"Let me try."

Minho turned his eyes to you, the cigarette still on his lips. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, until a smirk formed on his lips.

"Sure, but allow me to try something." You didn't really mind. He is Changbin's friend so you trusted him as well.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, before his long fingers found their way onto your chin, pulling you closer without a word. They put slight pressure on your chin, which made you part your lips and you immediately understood, parting them a little more.

He came closer to you, your nose nearly touching his as he leaned his head to the side, to blow the smoke inside of your mouth. You inhaled, but he didn't give you a lot of time to think as his lips smashed onto your again.

The smoke not being the only thing that went into your mouth as his tongue followed suit. You held onto his shirt, returning the kiss while his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing them for a second before he lifted you onto his lap by your waist.

You immediately adjusted to the situation, sitting up slightly. Your hands finding his neck as you returned the kiss. Your tongue finding his, the fight for dominance not taking long as Minho immediately won it.

You both parted again, out of breathe. It was way too hot between you two. And you both wanted nothing more than to taste the other.

Without a word he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he carried you to his room.

His room was a no-go zone at parties like these. Everyone knew that. The moment he entered you noticed that the room was empty. He closed the door behind you two, locking it before he resumed his way to his bed, letting you fall on it.

Minho didn't wait for another second, his lips were on your neck this time, as his hands found your waist again. His lips were leaving butterfly kisses all over your neck before he finally found a spot he was satisfied with.

His lips latched onto the soft skin and he sucked on it. Gaining a sweet moan from your lips. He grinned, finally letting go of the skin, admiring the dark hickey that was forming.

"You're okay with this, right?" He asked, just to be completely sure, before you two went any further.

Your nod was more than clear, however that wasn't enough for Minho.

"I need your words, Princess." Those words went straight to your core and it needed a lot of self-control to not cum untouched.

"Yes, please." You didn't need to tell him twice. He removed your shirt from you, his hands immediately unclasping your bra as well as his lips found their way onto your chest.

Soft butterfly kisses littered it at first, before his mouth found one of your nipples catching them between his teeth. At first he softly licked it, watching goosebumps erupt all over your skin before he softly bit it, again pulling a moan out of your throat.

Your sweet sounds were going straight to his member but he tried to control his desires, wanting to prep you enough for him.

You could feel yourself getting wet and it only got worse the more he continued. You needed to feel him inside of you, but you could barely form thoughts, let alone words. Everything felt so good for your touch starved body. And it didn't help that Minho was so perfect at everything he did.

He stopped torturing your breasts, continuing his journey down, a soft kiss on your belly-button and you felt his teeth on the hem of your pants. His hands skilfully opened them before he pulled them down and threw them away.

Just as he had done with your shirt and bra.

"Already so wet for me. What a good little, Kitten." A whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt his hand on your inner thigh, moving closer to your heated core.

"Minho." You managed to moan but the boy only smirked as he moved your drenched panties aside to let one finger graze your folds. He was only rubbing them slowly, but this was enough for you to arch your back already. His fingers felt so good, you could barely wait for them to finally enter you.

"You want me so bad?" He looked up at you as you nodded as much as you could. "I will need your words, Princess."

"Yes, please Minho-..." A moan escaped your lips as his finger entered you. Your hands found the blanket behind you, as you had nothing else to hold onto.

He moved his finger slowly at first but the moment he felt you losing your mind his pace picked up, hitting all the right places.

You were so close to your release when you felt a second finger entering you. You pushed your head into the mattress, trying to ground your thoughts but everything felt so hot. You could barely wait any longer.

"I'm so close." You whined which only made him pick up his pace.

"The cum for me, Princess." Seconds passed after his sentence before your orgasm came crashing down on you. He helped you ride it out until he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean.

"you taste so good." He chuckled.

"You made such a mess, only because of my fingers?" You blushed. "Let's see what a mess you'll make for more." He knew he prepped her enough so he finally got rid of his clothes as well, letting his member finally out of its confinement and you understood why he had to prep you so good.

His member was a sight to behold and you could feel yourself getting wet again only at the sight of it.

He got on top of you, pulling a condom out of his drawer before you stopped him.

"It's fine, I'm on birth control." You needed to feel him inside of you, without a condom.

"Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to be completely sure that you were okay with this.

"Yes."

He threw the pack of condoms away, not wanting to waste another second on them before he connected his lips with yours again.

The kiss was as messy as the first ones but this time you could feel him positioning himself at your entrance.

He broke the kiss, his eyes finding yours. Analysing if there was any doubt before he pushed the tip in slowly.

Your warm walls immediately welcoming him.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He moaned as he slowly kept pushing his member deeper. You were holding onto him, your nails surely leaving marks on his back as your back softly arched. You needed him inside of you, all of him.

He finally bottomed in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he pulled out nearly completely only to push it inside a little more forcefully this time.

His groan and your moan mixed as he kept a fixed pace. Your back arched as his member hit your sweet spot every time he pushed it back inside of you. His hands holding your hips so that he could burry himself as deep as possible.

You felt so good around him, your pussy clenching around him as you felt yourself getting closer.

One of his hands moved to your clit, softly rubbing it as he thrust into you, making you scream his name out in pleasure.

You were happy it was so nosy outside, or everyone would have probably heard you two. It was impossible to contain your moans.

"I'm close." He notified, hid hold on your waist tightening.

"Please come inside." You moaned, wanting to feel the warmth of his cum inside of you, to fill you up with it.

"You you want me to fill you up with my cum?" You didn't have to look at him to see the grin.

"Such a needy, whiny brat. If I had known this we would have done this earlier. So good for me. You better take it all. Every drop." He chuckled as his thrusts got sloppier and harder.

You were close, your pussy clenching around his member which made him groan.

"Clenching so good around me, such a good girl."

This only threw you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him as you arched your back, your orgasm hitting you like a truck for the second time.

He helped you ride it out, his thrusts not faltering as his pace only picked up, indicating that he was getting closer to his release.

You felt overstimulated, your pussy was burning as you tried to match him but there was no need, as he came only a few moments after you had.

His hot cum filling your walls as he held your hips still to push his member as deep inside of you as he could.

His back was arched as he threw his head back, your pussy so tight around him that it felt as if it was squeezing every drop out of his members.

"So greedy." He chuckled as he pulled out, admiring the mess you two had made.

"I told you to take it all, Princess."

He teased as he noticed some of his cum sliding out of your hole, only to push int inside with his finger again, making you moan in the process.

Your clit was extremely sensitive and every touch felt burning hot.

"Min, mhh." His eyes focused back on your fucked out state and he grinned, pulling his finger out of you and in front of your lips.

"Taste our mess." You immediately parted your lips taking his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean.

"What an obedient Kitten."

You were exhausted at this point, hoping that he wouldn't make you leave now, but it seemed as if he had no intention to do so.

He pulled you closer to him, covering you both with a blanket.

"Rest for now, let's clean this mess up later." A soft kiss was placed onto the back of your neck as you back was pressed to his chest, his hands secured around your torso.

It didn't take long for your eyes to shut and for you to fall asleep next to him.

No one had ever made you feel as good as Minho had, and you were certainly hoping this wasn't the first and last time you did this.

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chrisevansonly · 8 months

Text

𝐏𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

ʚ lando norris x female reader

ʚ you’d never miss Lando’s home grand prix, not even for some silly meetings, only your boyfriend doesn’t know that…yet

ʚ fluff, cute lando you know the deal

ʚ not requested i just felt like attempting to write for lando, i know my writing isn’t the best and this is really bad:( but i just i really feel like shit for not updating as much, i promise i’m trying🩷

Silverstone, a race Lando called his own, the craziness of the fans mixed with the adrenaline in the paddock, it was one of his favourites: only this year he’d be without you…or so he thought. For weeks now you were planning a surprise visit to the grand prix, originally meetings had your schedule packed through the race week and weekend, but by some miracle, you’d managed to get out of them. In all honesty you would have attempted to get to Silverstone even if you’d had the meetings still.

There was a palpable excitement in your body as you scanned into the paddock, courteously of Oscar and Lily for helping you set this surprise up. Lando was finishing up media duties and would be in the lounge eating lunch with some of the team, so you knew you had a good 20 minutes to find him.

“Hey Y/N!”

You smiled waving to Zak Brown, who’d spotted you just before you headed into hospitality.

“Hey Zak! Lando upstairs?”

He nodded

“Yeah, they all just sat down for lunch, Oscar filled me in, don’t worry I won’t spoil anything”

You laughed, thanking him before quickly making your way up the stairs, butterflies swirling around, you’d been missing Lando a lot recently, so this visit wasn’t only going to be good for him, it would be good for you too. It wasn’t hard to find him, his curls sticking out as he laughed along with his team

“Am I interrupting?”

A silence fell over the room as everyone turned to gauge the British drivers reaction, at first he just stared, trying to figure out if you were really there, then the biggest smile spread across his face as he jumped up and came over to you

“What the fuck?”

“Surprise Lan!!”

Lando didn’t waste anytime bringing you into his arms, a few whistles from his team as he placed a kiss on your lips, pulling away after just enough to look at you

“When did you get here?!”

Smiling you brushed a curl that had fallen against his forehead

“Just now, Oscar and Lily helped me pull this off”

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Pulling him back in for a hug, you held him close, there was no place else in the world that felt like home as much as being in Lando’s arms did, he was home.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you too..”

Lando pulled you with him to sit down, his hand holding onto yours tightly, not wanting to let go as you both caught up, talked about the upcoming race and anything else that was on your minds. Going into this weekend Lando already knew he was going to give it his all, but seeing you was the extra push he’d need to go out there and leave it all on the track.

No matter what place he’d finish, you would always be proud of him.

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boydepartment · 4 months

Note

hiii can you do enha finding out you have a crush on them from one of the members

“R U FR?” - enhypen reaction to finding out you’re in love with them

a/n: i am so sorry this took a million years BUT HERE IT IS :3 I ALSO DIDNT KNOW HOW TO TITLE THIS SO I HOPE PPL READ THE ASK LMAO

warnings- nothing- fluff, reader uses she/her

MASTERLIST

🥯jungwon… he was working on some lyrics for a song that he wanted to write. he never really took part in something like this directly so it was new to him. and he was struggling.

“jay… i don’t know what to write, it’s a love song! i’m struggling.” he leaned his head on the desk and watched as jay messed with the different knobs on his guitar.

“ask y/n she’s like in love with you.” jay mumbled without thinking, he shot his head up and looked at jungwon who also shot up.

jungwon slowly turned to jay, “are you… being honest with me?”

his older brother sat awkwardly, “ummm if i said yes?”

almost immediately jungwon got up and called you asking your location, if he had to run to you he would. and he was going to.

🥨heeseung… he sat on his back in the practice room singing to himself. he took up extra practices for the next upcoming comeback and you had left a couple hours ago after dropping him off lunch. he was so thankful for you and it made him smile to himself. around 4am riki walked in and sat down next to heeseung.

“dude it smells like body odor and noodles in here what the fuck did you do?” riki asked between laughs

heeseung sat up and rolled his eyes, “it smells like noodles because y/n dropped me off food.”

riki scoffed, “when did she drop off the food? i didn’t see her.”

heeseung leaned back again, “couple hours ago, around 1am.”

“1AM???? damn she really is in love with you hah!” riki froze right after the words came out of his mouth. god he spoils everything.

“wh-what??” heeseung looked at him wide eyed, ears pink.

riki immediately got up and ran out, leaving heeseung to sit in the practice room alone blushing.

🥐jay… you had a rough couple weeks due to family stuff and jay felt bad. you were a really close friend of his and he hated seeing you so upset. to make you feel better jay started cooking you your favorite meal. he was in the kitchen cooking and planning out his day so he can drop it off to you while it’s still warm. he was mumbling to himself when jake walked in.

“is this dinner?” jake asked, sitting on the counter. jay looked at him.

“1 get your ass off the counter, and 2 no, it’s for y/n, it’s her favorite.”

jake looked at the food, “this is a lot to give her.”

jay nodded, “i’m hoping it’ll last her a few days, it’s been rough for her lately.”

“i’m sure her just seeing you will make her feel better, she talks about you all the time yaknow?” jake said mindlessly, ass still sat on the counter.

jay nodded and hummed without thinking. jake thought he was ignoring him so he wanted to test it, “she’s in love with you.”

jay’s eyes widened and he almost dropped the wooden spoon, he looked over at jake and smacked him with it, “that’s not funny and i told you get your ass off the counter!”

🧇jake… he was waiting for you to come over to the dorm. you needed help on an essay and jake had free time so he offered to help you. he also loved to keep his skills sharp so he lived vicariously through your university work. he was frantically cleaning his room when sunoo walked in.

“oh you’re finally cleaning your room?” sunoo spoke leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

jake looked up at him, “yeah y/n is coming over, it needs to be clean i don’t want her to be grossed out by me.”

sunoo scoffed, “she’s seen you laugh so hard snot comes out of your nose and she’s still in love with you.”

jake stopped mid throw, his paper ball not landing in the trash, “wait what?”

sunoo laughed, throwing his head back, “oh nothing!” before walking to his own room. jake was suddenly hyper aware of his messy room and the time. you were going to arrive any minute and he was sweating nervously.

🥞sunghoon… he was getting dressed up to meet you for coffee. you were actually in town for the week so he wanted to see you again. you had been busy with classes and work and just life in general. so sunghoon wanted to take you out for froyo, he was buttoning up his coverup and putting on cologne when heeseung entered the bathroom.

“do you have a date today or something?” heeseung looked at him, eyebrows rising.

sunghoon shook his head no, “just taking y/n out for ice cream.”

heeseung now looked at him funny, “are you sure it’s not a date? she likes you a lot yaknow, like love love.”

“what? what do you mean!?” sunghoon flipped around to look at him, “do i look okay? is it too much? should i change? wait she’s in love with me?!”

heeseung left the bathroom after tapping him on the shoulder and a small good luck.

🍞sunoo… you and sunoo were having your monthly movie nights. it used to be weekly but since he became an idol he gets busy a lot. but you were willing to wait the once a month for these movie nights and for him. you were knocked out on the couch in the dorm and sunoo walked to the hall closet to get you an extra blanket. jay walked past him but stopped, jay knew you were going to confess to sunoo today. he was the one who told you to

“did y/n talk to you yet?”

sunoo smiled to himself, “we always talk, why?”

“so are you guys together now or?”

sunoo looked at him a little confused. jay yawned and stretched a bit, he was half asleep as he started walking again, “she was supposed to confess how she’s been in love with you for years. guess she forgot to.”

sunoo walked back quickly to you practically shaking you awake after that. he loved you just as much as you loved him, and sleep was not going to get in the way of that.

🍰riki… you were in the shower in the dorm. on the way home from a cafe it started pouring which led to you getting soaked. riki knew you were bad with the cold so he immediately shoved you in the bathroom with a change of warm clothes. not wanting you to get sick, then he walked to his room to make sure it was tidy and had enough blankets for you both.

jake was already in his room though, “what’re you doing in here?”

jake looked up, “looking for the ipad, where is it?”

riki blinked, “i need it you can’t have it right now.” he started rearranging the blankets on his bed. jake looked at him, jaw agape.

“what the hell for what?! give it!”

riki looked back at him, “you’re acting like you’re the child.” jake started searching riki’s desk.

“hey! cut it out! me and y/n are watching a movie after she gets out of the shower!” riki said and smacked him with a pillow.

jake stopped and his grin widened, “ohhhhhhhhhhh okay then never mind, if you and your girlfriend wanna watch a movie then i’m good i’ll just use heeseung’s pc.”

riki’s ears turned pink, “she’s not my girlfriend…” never in his life was he going to tell you his feelings for you.

“what really? i heard her talking on the phone the other day about how much she was in love with you? huh… maybe i heard wrong.” at that jake got up and left and almost immediately you entered the room. you looked at riki who was pink all over.

“ummm are you okay? do you have a fever?”

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keraxxx · 4 months

Text

Hate or Jealousy? -Part one

Pairing- Oliver Quick x F!Reader

Summary- When your cousin, Felix, invited his friend Oliver over to Saltburn for the summer, you hated him and didn’t know why.. you want to figure out his intentions.

Warnings- Cursing, possible mentions of ed, slightly bitchy reader(js spoiled n rich so), masturbation, possible stalking, not proof read

A/N-Happy new year! I hope everything is going well for you guys. I just watched Saltburn last night and OH MY GOD. I had to pause the movie a few times and think abt what I had just watched. Still an amazing movie of course and ik I had to write something about Oliver. so enjoy!! (inspo is from venetia and oliver's interactions.) word count- 1.4k

comment to be added to tag list. NEXT PART HERE

Requests are open!

—

For some reason, you didn't like Oliver. You didn't like the way he looked at you when Felix first invited him, it was as if he was trying to undress you with his eyes.. Did you hate him? Were you jealous of him? Or did you find him slightly attractive? You couldn't make up your mind. It was all over the place, emotions poking and showing on your face as you looked at him almost in a judgmental way. You think it was also the way he acted, all sweet and innocent.. his eyes showed someone different. He's hiding himself. but why?

Everyone is sitting at the table, Felix sat next to you and Oliver is sitting across. Everyone is conversing as normal, but you stay silent, nothing in the conversation is peaking your interest since your aunt, Elspeth, is just gossiping. You pick at your plate with your fork, unable to eat a single thing, your free hand messing with the silky fabric of your red dress. You look across the table and look at Oliver, practically glaring at him without a care. His features weren’t bad if you were being honest with yourself. It’s almost as if he knew you were looking at him because he diverts his attention to you quickly. You look back down at your plate, embarrassed he saw you. You saw him smile before getting back into the conversation with the family again.

After dinner, everyone disperses to their room and you walk back to your room. You sigh as you lay down on your bed, spreading out onto the duvet. You curl your pillow in your arms and rest your chin on it. Sighing, you kick your legs up behind you, swaying slightly as you think to yourself.. you think about Oliver. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Why was he so interesting to you? Something about him made you want to investigate him, figure out his intentions but it’s too early to do that now since he just got here. Time passes and you’re still lying down thinking about the whole situation, unable to sleep. Sighing, you hop off your bed and walk out your room.

You sit on a stone bench near the garden, hugging your cold goosebump filled arms as you look out into the distance. You hear footsteps and turn your head to see Oliver, wrapped up in a blanket you assumed he took off his bed. You raise your eyebrow curiously as you look him up and down. “I thought you were sleepwalking.” He chuckles slightly and looks down at you timidly. “Yeah no.” You force a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep , that’s all.” Oliver unravels himself and puts the blanket over your shoulders. “It’s cold out.” He says in a soft tone, puffing out his chest as he inhales. You scan over his boxer briefs with a hidden smirk, his tone arms and stomach staring back at you. “Are you not cold?”

You snap out of your trance and look up. “I am actually. Thanks.” You laugh dryly as you maintain eye contact. Oliver doesn't break it, he keeps his blue eyes locked on yours with an almost untrue smile. "Are you not cold?" You laugh as you refer to his almost naked body. He shakes his head and laughs embarrassedly. "N-No.. i'm fine." You nod your head and eventually look away.

"I see why Felix likes you." Oliver hums in confusion. "You're different.." You stand up, hugging the blanket around you still. "But.. I see you, Ollie." You whisper as you get closer. "I see you hiding." His lips tug up into a small smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah.." You look him up and down one last time before walking off, taking the blanket he gave you. His eyes were burning a hole in the back of your head as he watched you with a smug expression.

Next morning comes and as usual, the whole family is gathered up again, eating breakfast. Oliver comes and sits in the empty seat next to you. You look down at your thighs and clear your throat before taking a sip of your drink. Oliver conversates with your aunt, attempting to be nice. You look across the table to Felix and hum knowingly. He laughs as he looks at you, shaking his head before going back to eating.

After eating, you, Farleigh, Felix, Venetia, and Oliver hang out near the small lake. You and Farleigh are sitting next to Venetia on the dock, her hair in the water as she lays on her back, Felix and Oliver sitting on some chairs by the side.

"I don't think I like him." You say softly as you look over at him and Felix conversing. "Well he is Felix's toy.." "And we know Felix doesn't like sharing his toys." Venetia says in a teasing yet sarcastic tone. "True.." You hum as you bring your knees to your chest. "You think he'll last long?" You look at them both and they quickly shake their heads no.

"I think Felix is gonna get bored of him soon. He's so clingy.. and he was a nerd no one wanted to sit with at college so." Farleigh shrugs as he tugs at his curls. You stifle a giggle and roll your eyes sarcastically. "Oh stop.. he's such a sweet boy." You say in a softer tone. "Lets not lie now." Venetia scoffs before she laughs. You look over at Oliver again and you can see him eyeing you down.. that same stare that he did when you first met. He's undressing you again. You look away with a small eye roll and continue your conversation with Farleigh and Venetia. "I swear he's hiding something.." You scoff as you look down at your knees. "He's always looking at me as if he's trying to see how much i'm worth.." Venetia lifts her sunglasses up to the top of her head and looks at him. "Maybe he wants to get in your pants." She teases. You and Farleigh laugh and you gently hit her arm.

Its dinner time again and this time you're wearing a long white dress with a fold-over off shoulder look. You're picking at your food, again, still processing Oliver in your head. He needed to get out of your head for god's sake, you didn't like the boy. "So Oliver.." Elspeth starts, "How are you finding it here?" She looks at him with a smile and he smiles back. "Uh- Yeah.. yeah it's nice. I get lost sometimes but I find my way." "Good." She smiles and takes a sip of her red wine. Oliver looks down at his plate with a smile as the small chatter around the table starts up again. He looks up at you and you look back. "Did you ever go to sleep last night?" He asks in a restrained voice, just loud enough for you to hear. You nod slowly. "Mhm.." He smiles at your response. "Good." His words stuck to you, as if he wanted you to say yes.. almost as if you obeyed him in some way. You look down and drag your teeth along your bottom lip, feeling some sort of arousal course through your body, finding its way to your core. You just had to get through dinner.

Dinner is done and thank god it was. You felt as if you were about to burst, it was dreadful. You go to your bathroom, making sure to shut the door, and draw yourself a bath. You run your hand under the water, checking the temperature and immediately hum in satisfaction. You strip yourself of your dress and undergarments, leaving them on the floor by the tub. You sink into the tub, moaning at the nice feeling of warm water against your frigid body. You hum to yourself as you snake you hand under the water and down your stomach, finding your swollen bud. You let out a soft groan as you slowly move your digits against your clit, your hips moving in rhythm. You tilt your head back against the edge of the tub, your mouth left open as you let out inaudible moans. You had yourself yearning for more, the only image in your head is the man you hate, Oliver. You replaced your hand with his, imaging he was with you at the moment rubbing your soaking wet cunt. You whined and moved your fingers faster, your legs lifting up slightly. You bite your lip and cursed to yourself as you felt yourself growing closer to release, your eyes fluttering close. You wanted him so bad but you fucking hated him.

Your whines and whimpers fill the bathroom, probably almost loud enough for the whole manor to hear. You could just imagine him kissing on your neck while he fingers you against the counter of your bathroom, forcing you to look in the mirror while you moan out his name. Your juices dripping down his hand and his groans against your neck vibrating your body. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you eagerly buck yourself into your hand while you moan uncontrollably. Your back arches and you can your legs shake slightly as you finish. You pant, pulling you hand off your clit. You exhale as your eyes open slightly. Turning your head, you look at the door and noticed it was cracked open. You swore you had shut the door and you bite your lip nervously.

Was someone watching you?

#smut #x reader #fem reader #imagine #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #saltburn imagine #saltburn movie #felix catton #barry keoghan #barry keoghan smut

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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, ngl i was too lazy to proof this, childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant (i tried), yn’s parents are just bad

notes: me ?? writing someone other than sae ?? wild . but it’s my first try at nagi so pls have mercy :’) feedbacks/reblogs appreciated !! <3

summary: it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

i. fleeting moment

nagi seishiro was your first kiss, age ten on the swings of your backyard.

you’re only friends by chance. he was a loner on the swings in the public playground and you have a habit of picking up strays. (but until then, it had been limited to animals and not humans.)

yeah, yeah, maybe having a first kiss at the young age of ten is a little alarming, but it’s not like nagi is a bad person. if anything, he was just trying to shut you up. probably, maybe. (and it wasn’t with tongue, if anyone needs the specifics.)

“if you keep crying that loudly i won’t be able to hear my game,” nagi grumbled, eyes glued to his screen. apparently he was playing some pseudo horror game where four fighters run from a single hunter and apparently he needed to listen to the sounds to know when to run.

but really, you were ten and crying because some other boy bullied you in the playground, saying how you were so ugly and that no boy would ever wanna kiss you. given all of that, why would you even care about nagi’s stupid game?

if he didn’t want to be bothered, he shouldn’t have chased you all the way back home.

“but seishiro, am i really ugly?” you were ten and in need of immediate validation while nagi was in need of your immediate silence.

he didn’t even look up. “that’s subjective.”

even when he was young he had a smart mouth that would be able to break you.

“well then what do you think?” because honestly, even at that point, you thought nagi seishiro was handsome; he was the face claim you used to imagine all your scenarios at night before you went to sleep.

he was your knight in shining armor, coming to break you free from the cage which was your life and obligations. he was your prince charming who’d rescue you above all else. heck, sometimes he was mario and you were princess peach.

seishiro groaned when the screen shows game over and honestly, he really did think it was all your fault because he couldn’t hear anything over your incessant wailing. but then he looked at you for the first time after you cried and had the recurring thought that he didn’t want to be the reason for you to keep on crying.

“yeah, you’re pretty.”

and he puts his lips on yours like it’s no big deal.

ii. unreciprocated

fifteen is when you’re most rebellious. it’s a sickness you get from none other than mikage reo.

your family and the mikages go way back. they’d been family friends for such a long time. a part of you feels it’s not genuine, blinded by the fact that they’re always business partners and everything else stemmed from that one simple fact.

you started to play hooky from business dinners, started to say fuck off to rude old geasers who truly didn’t deserve a single dime they got.

all you ever got in return was your father’s temper and your mother’s cowardice and reo’s praises. most of all you at least had nagi’s shoulder to cry on. (he’s learned to bring along his earpiece just in case he had to meet you or accidentally bumped into you.)

“they all sicken me,” was what reo told you when you asked about his family in relation to their business. you could sympathise. sometimes all you could feel from your parents were that they treated you as a next-in-line rather than just daughter. and almost everyone around you made you feel like you were just a moneybag.

what reo felt shouldn’t have been too far off. except you thought he had it better; at least all his parents did was try to spoil him while not-so-subtly training him up to be the next ceo. he at least didn’t suffer at the hands of foul tempers and verbal abuse.

no one should have to.

“oh shit! i gotta go soon,” you realised, noticing that it was almost six and you’d made plans with nagi.

reo cocked a brow, “y/n l/n, you have other friends?”

you knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from landing the hardest punch you could on his arms. “hey, i’m not that inept at socialising okay?”

sure, you’d started taking caution with making friends because most of them were just after one thing: money. even at this age. which is crazy to you, at least, but you felt you had no right to think that. not when all the money you wanted was still at your disposal.

but you weren’t actually bad at making friends. it was just that maybe most people weren’t even worth the effort.

“they’re good to you, right?”

you took a moment to decide before you eventually nodded. “yeah, for sure.”

nagi was… weird, for you. but in the good sense. yeah, he’d open his mouth and ask you for money which at least told you he was honest. even if you rejected him, though, he was still beside you.

“man, what a hassle,” he grumbled when you wouldn’t buy any more food. he was broke, which meant he couldn’t eat anymore too if you didn’t buy some.

the two of you still never talked about that kiss. it never happened again, to your dismay.

you were a teen, and screw stupid teen hormones for driving you to ask him.

“hey sei, we’re good friends, right?”

“huh?” nagi was already fixated on his phone. probably some new game you didn’t know about. his earpieces were ready, around his neck. “uh, i guess?”

but that was not good enough for your feisty fifteen-year-old self.

“sei, i’m serious! would you be sad if one day we weren’t friends anymore?”

back then you didn’t know what you were doing. back then you didn’t think to yourself what it was, really, that you were trying to get out of him. maybe it was validation, and maybe it was just boredom.

you really just wanted to know nagi cared.

all he did was shrug, brows furrowed in annoyance. “that’s life, isn’t it? sometimes friends drift and sometimes they don’t.”

throwing wisdom around as if that was what you needed. and it was unfair to expect anything out of nagi as it was, but that didn’t stop you from throwing a tantrum and storming off.

(he watched you as you left, and there was something unsettling about the sight of your back moving so far away.)

iii. turning point

the world is small.

when you were sixteen you realised that the so called treasure reo told you he found was a human, who so happened to be your friend—nagi seishiro.

teeny tiny.

they also both happened to be picked by the JFU to go to blue lock. which you only found out after they’d both been gone for a week.

it didn’t surprise you though—they were both talented. it was only right they got picked. though, they also happened to be the only two people you would hang out with, so by default you felt lonely.

but at sixteen you’d learned to suck it up, hide your feelings. everything was okay—as long as you deceived yourself so. your parents were the same; overbearing and breathing down your neck and now that reo was not around for you and nagi couldn’t be your confidant, it felt much worse than usual.

everything was a transaction and you felt suffocated. it made you appreciate nagi’s unfiltered honesty and reo’s unwavering loyalty to whatever you dedicated yourself to.

“at least that reo boy has some other talents like that foolish soccer he plays,” your father berated over dinner. “and here my daughter is, good for nothing yet expects us to believe her when she says she can make a living outside of our company.”

and if you’d had other close friends, they would’ve told you that sixteen was too young to be sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. they’d have said your parents were unreasonable and that they were the fools.

but you didn’t. and the only friends you had weren’t around. so you ate it up. you clenched your fists where your parents couldn’t see and let them run their mouth. or, in your mother’s case, stay silent while your father made unreasonable arguments.

“and that nagi boy you hang out with,” your father turned his focus to him, “all he reeks of is laziness. i don’t get why you have to hang out with him all the time. inviting that oaf into our house like he’s welcome.”

that time your fists hit the table and you didn’t even expect it. it hurt because of how hard you hit but nothing could beat the hurt your father inflicted on your heart.

you found you couldn’t say anything, only because your father’s eyes were wide with rage at your outburst and you were still the same scared girl inside at age four when he first raised his voice at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” you choked out, which was pathetic but you didn’t want to end up murdered in your own house.

your father scoffed. “get your stupid head out of your ass or you’re cut off.”

the only time you could do that was when nagi and reo finally got their first break out of blue lock. you occupied their time for the most of it, listened to them going on and on about the matches that went on inside. though reo seemed a little mad at nagi, a little awkward around him, for some reason you weren’t privy to.

“i’m gonna head home first,” and reo was gone with the wave of a hand, something about having to settle something at home—probably nothing good.

maybe it was the lovestruck idiot in you talking, but you’d made peace with the fact that maybe you had a small crush on nagi seishiro, judging by how you acted around him. maybe it was that idiot that made you want to spend all of his free time together.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow too?” sue you, you were just trying to shoot your shot.

nagi put his phone in his pocket, for once, and you were struggling to remain standing as he held eye contact with you, calm gray eyes the bane of your existence. “mmm can’t, gotta meet isagi and the rest.”

isagi, a name you’d just learned earlier—apparently nagi thought he was strong and chose his team. maybe that was why reo was mad.

“oh, okay then.” you’d ask for the next day, but you didn’t want to get rejected twice. besides, nagi would probably just prefer playing games and resting at home. you were just friends, after all.

“was thinking we could get dinner though,” nagi told you, hands in his pockets as the both of you walked down the street.

that was the first time he ever extended an effort, you remember. and suddenly life wasn’t that bad anymore.

it was also the first time nagi asked you to feed him, not because he was playing some game but on purpose.

and you didn’t know how it turned out that way, but he ended up taking up all of your time. it was the only reason you had the ability to fill him in on your family, and he actually listened. and, like reo, he said “fuck them.”

maybe that was the point you realised maybe he did care.

but for a girl at seventeen just concerned with romance and happiness, it was paradise—until of course he went back to blue lock, taking your heart with him.

(what you both failed to realise was that he left his with you.)

iv. slow realisation

in the bleachers of his first match out of blue lock, nagi seishiro spots you easily in the front row—wearing his jersey and number, when did you buy that?

doesn’t change the fact that nagi likes seeing it on you. he’s not familiar with the feeling, but it’s equivalent to saying you like him the most, which feels great if he’s honest to himself.

what he doesn’t like is the guy next to you. sharp jawline and spiky hair wearing a business suit and his raven eyes are always peeking at you out of the corner. does he like you?

but the whistle blows and nagi forgets about you for a little over ninety minutes. he’s going to show you he can win this, with you watching from the front row, and he’ll show you why he’s the best and that other guys in business suits don’t matter.

after the game reo makes a big deal out of the fact you’re wearing nagi’s jersey and not his, and nagi finds out the guy with you was someone your dad wanted to hook you up with.

twisted business marriages.

“i’m just going out with him to shut my father up,” you admit to nagi when you’re both finally alone. (aka, after you’ve convinced reo to pry him away and leave you two alone.)

nagi’s not used to this. what’s this relief he feels? “oh, good to know,” is all he says because he doesn’t even understand himself.

he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place, walking you home. he’s not sure why reo left when he could’ve driven all of you home instead of just mr business-suit-guy.

“how’s it feel now, to be mr popular?” you’re not even sure why you’re asking. maybe because you feel like the gap between you and nagi grew so wide in such a short period of time and you’d do anything to hear him say that he’s still the same seishiro you knew.

your seishiro.

nagi only shrugs, “dunno. don’t really feel the difference.”

because really, apart from the fact that he’s much more busy, he’s still him—playing games when he’s free, texting you because that happens to fall in the list of things he likes to do now, and well, the only difference he feels is—he takes a peek to his side—you, somehow.

not because of anything you do in particular, but he feels different somehow. and he can’t make sense of it. he never can. how’s he supposed to? no one ever warned him about shit like this.

“uh, nagi? have you ever thought that maybe you like her?” reo tells him over the phone later that night, a little baffled by the things his usually detached friend just told him.

“you like her too though,” nagi retorts.

reo sighs, wondering how nagi ever made it to where he is. “not in the same way.”

“what do you mean?”

“figure it out yourself.”

nagi hangs up, thinking he already has it figured out. he also thinks reo will keep his mouth shut.

he doesn’t.

v. requited

it’s funny how reo rushed to call you that night, right after nagi basically told him (without saying it explicitly) that he has a crush on you.

but it’s also funny how it’s been three months since then and nagi still hasn’t said anything about it. you play ignorant around him, waiting and waiting for him to admit it himself.

evidently it’s not working.

tonight you’re just watching him on the screen, cheering him on from the other side of the world because despite being from a rich family you can’t just up and leave to another country as and when you feel like it.

besides, you’ve made peace with your parents; you’d learn about the family business willingly as long as they stopped interfering with your personal life. they surprisingly agreed.

nagi and reo win, as you expected, and as usual, the cameras trail their team as they celebrate on the field, their captain having tore his shirt off to celebrate that they’d won the tournament. it’s not long before the camera pans back to nagi, a few reporters already surrounding him.

“so nagi, how do you feel right now?”

“great,” he answers, with a sexy amount of enthusiasm. he’s rarely ever enthused, but you find it so much more attractive when he is.

nagi has his phone in his hand, you notice, and you immediately fish for yours. he’d texted you right before they started hounding him.

are you watching?

you smile as you type back.

no. congrats on becoming champions! 🫶🏼

“nagi nagi, who would you like to dedicate this win to?” the reporters are all clambering to get a chance to question him.

“oh i don’t know,” nagi says, and you catch him looking at your message before looking back at the camera. “i guess i’ll dedicate this one to this girl i like.”

you nearly spit out your drink.

“wait, does this mean you’re involved with someone? tell us, who is it!”

all the reporters get excited, and understandably, since nagi’s probably just about given them the biggest scoop for the month. they’re all looking at him, money signs in their eyes, while your jaw drops open as he overshares with the entire world.

“oh, y/n l/n, she’s been my friend since forever and i don’t know… i kinda like her a lot,” he’s saying all this earnestly, a hand scratching his neck and a blush creeping on his face, though he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

you rush to find his chat thread.

nagi, what the fuck!!!

you did NOT just say my name on live tv!!!

on the screen, he openly looks at your messages before typing a reply as the reporters hound him for more details.

oh shit, m i not supposed to?

“nagi, is she the one texting you right now?”

and like the honest guy he is, he nods. “oh yeah, think she’s mad at me right now.”

you curl up under your blanket, flustered because nagi is way too open and way too precious.

“would you like to say anything here to her now?”

nagi looks off camera and hums in contemplation before finally deciding on a response.

“hey y/n, tomorrow i’m gonna make you mine okay? so just wait for me.”

reo finally drags him away and towards the rest of his team and his interview ends there. you switch the television off, half mortified and half flattered. your phone blows up with most of your contacts gushing over what nagi said.

leave it up to nagi seishiro to have feelings for you, not realise it until years later, not tell you in the whole three months before this and yet announces it and your full name to the entire world on live television.

in spite of how flabbergasted you are, there’s a warm sensation blooming underneath your chest, a comfort that you’ve always been looking for finally fulfilled. there’s a certain endearment in the way nagi realises and professes his feelings.

you pull up his messages again.

you better keep your word, sei.

it doesn’t take him long to respond.

don’t worry, i’ll make you mine.

#bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #nagi imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock fluff #nagi seishiro fluff #bllk nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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