akimoroll

[akimoroll]

Hey pookie its March😈😈😈 (I'm clawing at your walls waiting patiently for the next nagumo x reader uni au update😈😈👹👹🦅🦅) (take your time lol)

hskahshsjs ily lemme just do some warm ups before i get in the zone mwah

[akimoroll]

PAIRING: Nagumo Yoichi x Reader

CONTENT: Fluff, established relationship, illness, feelings of confusion, a bit of a different characterization for Nagumo than my usual one due to the circumstances in the story, referenced shared past events, Sakamoto is a victim of this man's delusions, food, not proofread

WORD COUNT: ~ 2.2k

NOTES: Belated Valentine's fic because someone pointed out that I didn't post one this year (a crime). Ironically enough, I got sick the very day I wrote this idea down. I hope you'll enjoy this late Valentine's treat!

Yoichi wakes up with a start. His eyelashes flutter rapidly as he blinks awake, his eyes darting around in an effort to understand where he is and what shook him awake so suddenly. 

It takes a moment for him to focus, his vision still a bit hazy, his consciousness not quite there yet to translate everything around him into a coherent picture. 

He’s inside an empty classroom. There's a clock on the wall that is steadily ticking away. It's 3 PM and in the distance, he can hear the chatter of different groups of people. Students, most likely.

A hand on his arm pulls him out of his quiet observations. When he turns, he's met with your face – a little too close to his own. He blinks, once, then twice, taking in your features. There’s the familiar slope of your nose, the arch of your eyebrows which he’s familiar with in all sorts of expressions, the shape of your lips that he has committed to his memory by now…

You don't look flustered like he’d expected you to. 

However, you are giving him quite an inquisitive look. 

“Is everything alright? You already looked really out of it during lunch and just now, you were mumbling in your sleep,” you tell him, pulling your hand away. 

Yoichi finds himself missing your warmth already. 

He feels a little groggy. Out of it, as you've put it. The time on the clock feels wrong. So do his clothes and even the chair he's sitting on. It’s as if someone had reached into his life and shifted all the objects about two centimeters to one side. Nothing seems to be amiss but everything feels a little misplaced.

Stretching languidly, the man watches you as you rummage through your bag.

“Did I sleep through class?” he asks, nudging your foot with his as a sleepy grin tugs on his lips. He tries to shake off the weird feeling by being as carefree as he always is. Sticking to the usual helps one stay grounded, after all. Disruption can be mended through the enforcement of staying with what you know and doing things the way one has always done them.

“You should have woken me up. Or did you want me to come pester you for your notes later? Didn’t know you were that eager for my attention.”

The chuckle he ends his quip with awkwardly fades into nothing when you look at him with a frown. It’s not the kind that is tinged with annoyance, followed by a sigh or a groan of his name. The kind that really kicks his antics off and makes him want to pester you for the rest of the day. Not that.

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking confused as you pull out a little package. “We came here because you wanted to sleep somewhere quiet. We haven't been students in over a year now, Nagumo.” 

Yoichi laughs again, sleep still woven into his voice. It’s a little shaky. Awkward. Unsure. He waves his hand dismissively, “Come on. That was clearly a joke. Lighten up.”

At the sight of his usual happy smile, you relax. Answering with a soft sigh, the tension leaves your expression and you put the little package on the desk. There’s no acknowledgment of his weird behavior.

Or your own. 

Yoichi eyes you closely but you don't take notice. Now, this is really odd, and as much as he wants to point out how strangely you're behaving – how off-putting this entire situation is – he holds back. 

For now. 

“Oh?” he asks curiously, tilting his head as he watches you straighten out the bow on the little present. 

A flustered expression makes its way onto your face and you shyly rub your fingers together as you settle your hands in your lap. “Sakamoto is still at his job briefing. I’ll catch him outside in the hall in a few minutes,” you explain. 

Valentine's chocolates. 

It clicks in his mind and suddenly, this entire situation makes sense to him. Of course. You were going to give that to Sakamoto. It had been his idea, quite some time ago. 

Yoichi gives you a smug grin but there's something that itches at the back of his mind. “Are you feeling nervous?” he teases, his foot nudging yours under the table once more. 

He expects you to roll your eyes at him, to get huffy, but you… You give him a look through your lashes as you cannot manage to look straight at him. 

You are nervous. 

Why are you suddenly acting coy? Sure, this was what he had expected you to react like at the beginning of this arrangement of yours – him trying to get you with Sakamoto – but you've never acted like this before. Usually, you’d act like anything he proposes is a deal with the devil himself, a bad idea, a task so pesky you cannot help but complain for three weeks straight.

“A little bit,” you mumble and the expression you're sporting vexes him. It frustrates him for some reason and the very fact that this feeling burns hot inside his chest, annoys him. 

Something is seriously wrong with him today. 

His legs feel like lead when there’s a knock on the door. Sakamoto opens the door to peek in, barely giving an acknowledging nod to him before focusing his entire attention on you. “You coming?” the assassin asks and Yoichi swears that if you had a tail, you’d be wagging it off this very moment.

He watches as you get up to walk over and leave the room with Sakamoto, to give him your chocolates. To confess your feelings. Your eyes are filled with nervous excitement, lips stuck in a battle of you trying to look neutral but friendly while wanting to smile at the man you’re interested in.

The one you love.

Before he can think, Yoichi is reaching out to grab your wrist, holding onto it too tight from the get-go. Both you and Sakamoto look at him like he has grown a second head and he feels warm, uncomfortably so. He doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s wearing. Has no clue what he looks like right now. 

This feeling of not having control makes him feel nauseous. Not because he is some control freak (he knows that his circumstances are uncontrollable and he’s grown fond of that in some twisted way) but because he isn’t used to showing people his face when he can’t control what he is showing them.

He wants to poke fun at you, ask where his chocolates are, and smile at you, but his tongue feels heavy and he feels weird. Like his body is not his own. 

You're calling his name but it's difficult to focus. He thinks you're calling him by his first name now. How odd. Your skin underneath his is nice and cool where he holds onto your wrist, while his hand feels clammy. 

And then, Yoichi opens his eyes. 

Once more, your face is awfully close to his own but this time, you look worried. A little exhausted and…a hint more mature. 

You’re beautiful, is what he thinks, instinctively. The kind of beauty that is familiar and warm, like returning home after a glum, rainy day outside.

“I just wanted to check your temperature,” you murmur. It sounds apologetic like you’re deeply sorry for waking him up. Yoichi's hand is still wrapped around your wrist but he lets up a little and gentles his hold so you can press your palm against his forehead. 

Your hand is nice and cold. It prompts him to sigh softly and close his eyes, to relax a little. He didn’t realize how tense he was just now. 

“What day is it?” Yoichi asks, his voice hoarse and thin. His throat feels dry. With heavy eyelids, he looks up at you through his dark lashes. Tentatively, he tries,

“Is it Valentine's Day?”

Laughing softly, you pull your hand away and shake your head. “No, that was a few days ago. We were supposed to go out on a date but you were coming down with this fever, so we decided to stay at home. Do you not remember?” comes your teasing question. “Is this how you plan to charm me into a catch-up date? Smooth.”

All he can do is shake his head as you fix the blanket around him, tucking him in comfortably. Your tone is lighthearted and he can deduce that you don’t care much about missing Valentine’s Day or missing out on that cheesy romantic dinner he had planned for you. It’s slowly coming back to him now, bit by bit. His mind feels fuzzy.

He watches as you fill an empty glass with water from the pitcher. One of your hands comes up to support his head at the back of his neck while you bring the glass of water to his lips with the other. 

Once he's done, you carefully help him lie back down. Yoichi watches you tidy up the table by the bed, your hands quick and your gaze focused. There’s a bit of an uncomfortable weight on his chest, the scene from earlier still heavy on his heart. Once he’s well again, he thinks, he might laugh at himself for acting like this.

“Did you make chocolate?” he asks and you come back to his side again. Sitting down on the floor next to the bed, you trail your fingers over his cheek before you push his hair out of his face. 

“Yeah, I made some killer chocolate cake. It's in the fridge for now. You can have some once you feel better.” The grin you give him prompts him to give you a dazed smile in return. 

“Did you make any for Sakamoto?”

The question seems to catch you off guard for a second before you grimace. “Why would I make Valentine's chocolate for a married man?” you ask him, running your fingers over his temples. 

Yoichi gives you a tired smile as he closes his eyes and he sounds almost wistful, “You made him some a few years ago.”

You huff, half amused, half offended. “Because you forced me to. And then we ate all of it together, you and me. He didn't get any of it. Did the fever wipe your memories?”

Right. That was how that had played out back then. You never got all shy about giving Sakamoto the chocolate. Sakamoto didn't call you to leave the classroom – he had been gone by the time you were brave enough to give the chocolate to him. Brave enough meaning, you got over the feeling of sheer embarrassment at giving chocolate to someone you didn't have a crush on, urged on by the man you were in love with. 

Admittedly, a decade later, his antics make Yoichi cringe a little but he'll just have to bear that burden. If he brings any of his feelings regarding that situation up, he'll become the butt of all your jokes for the next ten years to come. 

At least today, he doesn't have the energy for something like that. Maybe some other day, when he’s feeling up to being on the end of your mischief for once. Letting you flip the script on him could be a fun twist, every once in a while.

It seems his relief is showing on his face because your hand moves to cup his cheek as you lean closer. “Are you alright?” 

It's not just the fever – he’d been delirious for the past few days, so you've become well acquainted with his feverish behavior – he's being odd right now. As if he’s confirming reality.

“It's nothing you need to worry about,” Yoichi tells you, his hand coming to rest on top of yours. 

“Can you join me in bed? It's a little cold and I feel lonely.” His words come out a little exasperated and over the top but they lack the usual mocking undertone that really sells the whiny shtick. Something about how flushed his cheeks are and how he looks up at you when he opens his eyes, makes it difficult to not go along with his antics today. 

As if you've ever not fallen victim to his whims. 

Rather quickly, you’re under the blanket with him, your arms wrapped around him and his head resting on your chest. Yoichi’s arms are wound tight around your middle, as if he’s afraid to loosen his hold on you, in case you might slip away.

The thrum of your heartbeat underneath his ear is steady, the one rhythm he’d recognize amongst any others. Your fingers that run through his hair soothe him and he fights the haze of sleep that settles within his mind and threatens to close his eyes.

Until you speak up.

“Actually… Maybe I should make some chocolates for Sakamoto’s family next year.”

Yoichi tightens his grip on you in a way that speaks more than any verbal complaints could and your hearty laughter is the last thing he hears as your voice carries him into a restful slumber.

[akimoroll]

as long as you'd let me

ao3: as long as you'd let me pairing: nagumo yoichi x f! reader genre: romance wc: 1.7k status: one shot

If anything—Nagumo was the one who thought himself fortunate enough to be granted the chance to be loved by her. Everybody wants her—all the heavens wonder what it would have been like to love her.

And he was the only one lucky enough to do both.

When she met him all those years ago, [Name] couldn't understand why she felt so drawn to him. She could never wrap her head around the idea that tagged along when his image crossed her mind. 

There was nothing special about him. Absolutely nothing. He was a face in the crowd. Someone who just so happened to be there when she was standing in the middle of the ballroom. He was someone who coincidentally just wanted to blend in—a dance was a redirecting tactic so it seems. 

So why did his eyes look at her like that? How could he dare to look at her with all the stars in the sky and say it was nothing more than convenience? How could he play off this—this... this incessant drumming inside her chest that had her heart wanting to run out of her body and straight to him? How could he look at her like that? 

How could he stand there and look like loving her would be his honor? That being on the receiving end of her adoration would be enough to last him this lifetime? Or that being the guy whom she harbored affection for would be the greatest thing he'd be blessed with in this life and all the next?

But he did. 

He dared to dream beyond that moment, and it brought him to where he stood now. As if fate had a lasting impression on them. 

Nagumo had met her again but this time, he was sure—this time he was sure he'd get it right. 

"Nagumo!" A shrill voice called, running as fast as his legs could take him to the assassin who stood before the windows overlooking the gardens. "[Name]—"

At the mention of her name, he had already closed the distance that separated him from the informant.

"What—" his head turned in an uncomfortable position to glare at the man, "did you do to my wife?" His voice was frosted, as if they were plunged into the depths of the oceans that housed all his hostility. 

The small man looked at Nagumo in fright, not expecting the assassin to hold his weapon against his person who only ever wanted to tell Nagumo the whereabouts of his beloved. He should have known something was off when his other superior, Shishiba, had asked for his assistance when the blond man had once never even bothered to accept any help from anyone before. The informant thought it would be a simple job, one that would end just like all his other errands: convey the information and be done with it. 

Now it seems that his life would be done with before he could even finish saying what needed to be said.

"She—she," Nagumo lifted the man from the ground by the collar, inching the weapon impossibly closer to the area on his neck that could sniff out his life. "She's by the gardens—"

He couldn't even finish the rest of his sentence when the tattooed assassin had already taken off, disappearing behind the corridors with his yukata fluttering in the spring gale. The open window was the only remnant that he was even in the room, and of course the frightened worker who just wanted to do his job. 

---

"So," Nagumo gazed at her softly, raising his eyebrow as a gesture for her to continue. "What are you doing up there?"

[Name] looked down at him from the tree branch she sat on. "Oh, you know... just admiring the clouds." 

Earlier, Shishiba had asked her the same query, except her answer was far different from the one she gave her husband just now. 

‘Why are you sitting up there?’ Shishiba would ask.

‘Waiting for my husband to come by.’ She would answer.

Perhaps Shishiba had informed Yoichi and he came rushing here like his life depended on it. 

Nagumo leaned against the trunk and continued to observe her figure from below, threads of [h/c] waltzing to the tune of the breeze, leaves that fluttered across the space that separated them painted fleeting shadows over her face, the heavens housed within those vibrant [e/c] irises. 

"Why'd you marry me, Yoichi?"

Her voice held a certain softness to it, as if she feared the answer that was yet to come. Did she think of herself as someone unbefitting of him? Does she label herself unworthy? Or was she in doubt of his affection? 

She shouldn't. 

If anything—Nagumo was the one who thought himself fortunate enough to be granted the chance to be loved by her. Everybody wants her—all the heavens wonder what it would have been like to love her. And he was the only one lucky enough to do both. 

I love you, he would say. And I'll love you for as long as you'd let me. 

"What are you talking about, dear?" he smiles, half a mind wanting to climb the tree and be nearer to her, the other half wanting to just stay put and see how nature pales in comparison to her. 

"What makes me so special, huh?" [Name] leaned in further to the tree trunk, side-eyeing her proclaimed husband, mirroring the same affection on her face as he had held for her. 

Silence was left to drown in the weight of her words, because as he was—Nagumo was unsure with what to say. 

He could have named a thousand things—and he reckons a thousand more after that... and it still wouldn't have been enough. 

It meant more to him, that day, that moment, all those moons ago. 

When destiny tied her fate to his. The day the heavens smiled down on him and allowed him the chance to hold her hand. To dance with her under the guise of convenience. 

She never knew that. And Nagumo was most certain that she never will. How could someone as great as her even remember the face of someone like him? Not when so many sunsets have already passed them by. 

[Name] released a breath of air, eyebrows creasing as a look of anxiousness colored the hills of her face at his lack of feedback. 

For the next minutes or so, she didn't bother filling the unnerving silence left by his unresponsiveness; opting to just permit the sound of rustling leaves to whisper melodies into her open ears.

"Nothing."

What?

[Name] craned her head to meet his stare, whether due to her being startled by his sudden answer or the meaning of what he just replied.

And she thought to herself, was there a proper way to sick a husband in the face when he tells you that there was nothing special about you? 

"There is absolutely nothing special about you, my love," was his answer, smiling at the woman perched on the top of a tree branch as if his statement did not just cause a turbulent downpour of emotions in her heart. And he even has the nerve to repeat such things! And call her love! Has he relinquished all shame?

I may not have the most experienced dating life out there but I'm not so much of an idiot to not know that those words are not what you say to your wife! Even if we are married for less than a year!

"Tch. So typical of you to say—" [Name] rolled her eyes at him and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest as she directed her attention to the ducks swimming around the pond.

"It's just that—" he began, tapping the tree trunk in a karate style way and holding his arms out, "without you..." the grown plant started emitting creaking noises and soon enough it landed on the ground with a very noticeable thud, "nothing is special." He whispered, holding the woman who once sat on the now fallen tree.

"Now, let's go back inside... shall we?" he grins.

[Name] couldn't comprehend why she felt such emotions for him. 

Yoichi was always so spontaneous and straightforward, he spoke when he felt the need to correct someone and he did so without remorse. 

She didn't understand, there were so many people out there who are better than him and yet... her heart continuously longed for his attention, the kind of attention that she once had though she will never get. 

In that light, during once upon a time, she had so badly wanted to give up on him... find someone better—still, the more she pried into his soul to uncover his flaws, the more his imperfection came flooding into her sight... the harder she fell.

Every breath he took was magic. 

To [Name], every word he spoke was like a spell, hypnotizing her deeper into loving someone like him.

After years of questioning why she had fallen for someone like Nagumo, it soon became clear that she didn't treasure him just because he was good-looking, gods he had such a horrible fashion sense when he danced with her all those years ago... [Name] did not cherish him as she had now just because he had a nice smile, or a certain way with words that would leave her flustered or annoyed. 

No. 

Sure, she loved all those things about him and she knew that she would come to feel the same way many, many steps into the future, but those were something that could be seen by the world. Those were things that people could see—traits that others were capable of discerning at a single glance.

[Name] liked him because he was flawed, his imperfections were proof that even someone that seemed almost perfect as him, could feel hurt... could be capable of needing someone.

And I once had hoped that the someone that he would need could be me...

So how fortunate am I that I have you here? That you turn to me when you are hurt, or scared, or in need of someone to lean on? 

It was nice to feel wanted—even more so, it feels nice when you are loved. But how many people can say that they feel safe? That they feel secure and seen; they cast away all the masks, all the faces shown to the world, every wall is still held up high but a door is wide open for you to enter. To see all the things growing in the gardens of their hearts, and know that you are trusted with something they held dear.

Nagumo could thank all his stars, every wish he had ever cast into the galaxies... but deep down, [Name] knew, she would always be the lucky one.

just a little something because I just realized I haven't posted this month ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) I legitimately have no idea what turn this took bcz it's past midnight when I bulldozed my way through this. the short something story I was working on for Miyuki Kazuya mylovethelightofmylifebooboobearhoneybunchsugarplumappleofmyeyeicingonmycupcake got a little out of hand and now I'm definitely sure I can't post it by the end of the month because well—well it's not finished and also because my studies are killing me ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ I hope you enjoy this ❤️ I love Nagumo. ps. to the anon who had requested to me, I promise you it is on the way (pls believe me (つ﹏⊂))

[akimoroll]

binge read your stuff of nagumo. . . ough. . . I love angst and sloppy sex. . . 😇

ily thank you for reading!! 🥹🌷

[akimoroll]

bluff

nagumo yoichi x afab!reader — 3k wc — ao3

c/w: smut. porn with some plot. semi-public sex. rivals w/ benefits. jcc nagumo (if you’re uncomfy with that pls step away from the vehicle) mdni.

a/n: was having second thoughts about posting this because im super insecure with writing porn but here we are. happy hearts day to the 4 ppl who like my shit. and to @angstigone, it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you 🌷

Sakamoto Taro and Akao Rion. These two were the ones you wanted to be as strong as. But Nagumo came into the picture and out of the three, he seemed the most approachable and you’re not the nicest with asking favors either.

“Me? Train…you?” asked Nagumo, head tilted to the side.

“Yes. I need it to happen as soon as possible.” You answered way too quickly and way too plainly.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

That was the question that started it all. A bet made between just the two of you. Whoever scores higher in class activities for the week would get the upper hand and have their way with the loser. Nagumo lets you win without fail while he decides on what he wants out of it. He plays along because it’s fun while he gives you the satisfaction that you’re winning against him.

You took advantage of this because it meant you could improve yet there are times you wished he’d take you seriously. He seemed too carefree all the time and it bothered you. It bothered you so much that your competitiveness grew into you wanting to rival him instead of his other two friends.

These games went on and on, far longer than you both remember. You were getting better at it. However, it was becoming repetitive.

Until it wasn’t.

Lately, when he pins you down—on the floor, against the wall, or wherever, and his taunts hidden beneath layers of:

“Ah, that was close! Getting stronger now, aren't you?”

“You’re making it harder for me these days.”

“Relaaax… You left yourself wide open with that temper of yours.”

—begin rolling out of his mouth, it sends tingles all over your body, making it harder to ignore the way he affects you. And when you do the same and put your whole body weight on him, you’d notice the slight flush on his cheeks, ignoring and thinking they’re just from exertion.

Until he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. So you asked, “What’s that fucking face all about?”

And he cluelessly countered, “Huh? What face?”

“That face you keep doing! You’re blushing like some…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words before you hesitantly continued, “…virgin.”

And you swore you saw something shift with his smile yet it was gone before you could catch it. He shrugged, “Well, yeah, it’s because I am.”

“Pfft, yeah right. No shit.” you said after an eye roll. But when he wasn’t biting back, you had to do a double take, asking, “Wait, really?”

And sometimes being driven and nosy is not the best combo. Because just like always, Nagumo went along when you had suggested another idea. You were curious to see how he reacts to you. How pathetic he can become under your touch. Wipe the smugness off his face. Watch him break character as he succumbs at the mercy of using just your hands, just your mouth, or simply the sweet nothings you’d whisper into his ear.

It was initially intended as a silly joke when you asked if he wanted to try something yet here you are, in too deep, flown too close. You had some sort of control for once and the thrill had you addicted.

Him lying about his chastity crossed your mind but who cares at this point. After all, he’s such a pretty face. Prettier when he smiles. Prettiest when he cries.

Neither of you showed any hint of disapproval towards it so it became one of your routine interactions. Every single time you leave him behind in that dark and cramped utility room, you act as if nothing happened. He does the same, if anything, he does it better. Another unspoken contest added on top of an existing one.

It’s better that way, you think.

All of this is nothing more than just a bet anyway.

With Valentine’s day around the corner, Nagumo thinks about the piles and piles of chocolate boxes he’s once again going to receive. Enough for him to walk around the JCC like he’s some kind of celebrity. He’s aware that you never cared for such things. Still… He wanted to know. What’s the harm in asking?

“W-What are you up to on Valentines?” Nagumo stammers around his question, a dazed smile lingers on his lips as you take him throat deep.

Wiping your mouth with your hand and stroking his dick with the other, you ponder before speaking, “And you’re asking me because…?”

“I heard—” he gasps with a shaky exhale as you begin pressing circles over his tip with your thumb. Struggling to maintain control in the face of your touch, he continues, “you’re finally making chocolates for me this year.”

Looking up at him, you chuckle softly, “Must be your other bitch.”

“Shh, quiet down, someone might hear you’re jealous.” He attempts a coy grin before gasping once more, eyes rolling at the back of his head as you drag the length of his dick on your tongue before slowly pushing into your mouth once again.

Just for you to stop and coo at him, pouting, “Aw~ He thinks he’s so funny.”

“I am funny. You look like you’re having lots of fun right now.”

“So much fun that I’m your secret… And you can’t tell a fucking soul. Keep it up.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I think it’s quite romantic.”

He snorted, “You’re sick and you’re mean. I have feelings you know…”

“For me?” You giggle before continuing, “Or you want me to give you something to cry about?”

Nagumo suppresses a chuckle as he closes his mouth like an imaginary zipper, tilting his head back as he tries to stop himself from blowing his load right then and there (yet fails miserably) with the image of your face at the forefront of his mind.

Nagumo’s done playing with his food.

Days before Valentines, you found yourself in a pinch. He didn’t let you win the bet this time. He scored higher than you in everything with ease and precision. An overkill to say the least. You’re well aware how he easily lets you win each time. It has always been one-sided. But the sudden change threw you off and had you feeling a mix of dread and anticipation for what’s about to come.

You’re pissed, flustered, with trembling fingers hidden inside clenched fists. Thinking, he’s going to have his way with you for the first time since this stupid bet started.

He smirks as he towers behind you while your mind races on all the possibilities on how he’s gonna strip you, bend you over, throw you around like a rag doll, have fistfuls of your hair as he fucks the living shit out of you. Maybe get his payback for all the teasing and edging you subjected him to, how you had him wrapped around your fingers behind closed doors.

Or so you thought.

In the confined space that you and him usually share secret meetings with, Nagumo has his chest pressed against your back as he fucks you softly. He covers you with his warmth. The room grows humid with him repeatedly sighing against your skin, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. There’s fondness in his touch with the way he has his hands all over you, like they had always belonged there.

There’s no rushing. He treats you with gentleness, like you’re the most precious little thing he’s ever laid his hands on. His voice slurs at the mentions of your name, breath feverishly hot against your neck. With his dick all wet and snug inside you, he makes you forget everything. The bet. The thoughts you had when you first walked in. Or whatever the fuck this one-sided rivalry was all about.

He’s got you thinking of him and him only.

As he parts your trembling legs wider, Nagumo reaches for a hand in between, whispering how wet you are, how good you make him feel. His long slender fingers pressing circles over your clit, making you whimper with his dick thrusting in and out of you. His movements ever so slow as you shudder under him.

He notices your hand slowly anchoring onto something. And one thing about Nagumo is he doesn’t like it when you cling onto something that isn’t him. He’d rather you claw at him, have fistfuls of his locks in your grasp, dig your fingers into his skin and have it painted blue and black, maybe draw a bit of blood like you always do.

So he lays you gently on a flat surface, that way he can have all your attention. He teases your folds before thrusting all the way in and then all the way out, again and again, coating his entire length with your wetness. He cradles the back of your head with his hands like a pillow to make it less uncomfortable for you, but more so to keep your eyes straying away from him. Your bodies mold into each other, keeping himself close to you as much as he possibly can, as if you’d escape if he clings a little less.

Finding yourselves face to face—just how he likes it—he inhales every soft sigh that escapes your lips, his voice breaking like stained glass every time he bottoms out with your pussy creaming around the base of his dick. He’s truly blushing now that he’s so completely lost in you, mesmerized by the fluttering of your lashes and the hazy look in your eyes as he thrusts deep inside you.

Nagumo could cum just by looking at you.

As a distraction, he thinks of something else to make the moment last longer, make it worthwhile. But then he remembers he’s never kissed you before. He thought about it maybe once or twice, doesn’t really matter since you never asked. You never initiated. Hell, you don’t even let him touch you. Not like this. Not when you see it as him one upping you. It had been enough for him that you’d let him watch you please yourself sometimes, telling him you’re being nice.

This is much more intimate than the acts you’ve shared thus far. And right now, you’re simply holding your end of the deal. Nothing more.

Yet you just had to shift it all one-eighty and go diving into his mind, whispering, “Yoichi, how come you never kiss me?”

He murmurs, “Thought you’d never ask.” and wastes no time, pressing his moist lips onto yours, deepening it as he feels you do the same. With all lips and tongue, your moans melt into his mouth. It’s all he could think about, your softness, the way you move your head to kiss him more, your sweaty palms cradling his face. He’s been denying himself of it this entire time and now it’s all he wants to do.

With his mind completely consumed by you and your pussy full of him, Nagumo finds himself hurtling so incredibly close to the edge. He picks up his pace, the pleasure slowly becoming unbearable for him with your moans turning into sweet sobs. Your pussy feels mind-numbingly good to him, clamping, squeezing around his dick like you’re milking him.

He leaves you wanting more as he pulls out. With brows knitted and mouth slightly parted, he pants softly as he strokes his dick so fucking wet from your dripping cunt. His chest heaves deeply, skin glistening with his sweat mixed with yours. You watch him cum all over your belly as he makes a face that you grew familiar with, yet now it feels all too different, and a part of you wishes he should’ve cum inside you.

Nagumo wonders why he waited so long to do this. It feels better than anything he’s done. So much better now that he’s doing it with you. The urge to kiss you once more overcomes him. And so he lets it. He makes his way down your neck, tracing your collarbone, circling in on your tits, taking his sweet time, staying there for a good while. He laps your nipples with his tongue, his thumbs drawing circles as he squeezes both in his palms.

He then finds his way to your arms. A kiss for every bruise and scar you had developed from training with him, he thinks they’re beautiful, clouding over the line between an apology and confession. He goes lower, his tongue sloppily swirls around your fingers and palms calloused from being so hard on yourself. Nagumo smirks as he meets your gaze, sealing it with wet kisses on the back of your hands like the gentleman he believes he is.

He goes lower and lower onto your belly, licking, tasting his own self off your skin. He leaves moist prints from your hips onto your thighs, kissing the back of your legs, sucking, biting gently down to your heels and toes. He kisses all over your body, leaving evidence of himself—digging in on every fucking inch of you. What a sight…he thinks, as you writhed under him.

Lifting your hips with your thighs over his shoulders, Nagumo swallows thick before dragging his tongue over your pussy. You’re dripping… making a mess, creaming all over his mouth. He draws faint circles as he toys with your clit, and when you buck your hips for more as your body shivers, he can’t help but meet your gaze and grin a little.

He squeezes the flesh of your thighs when you reach for his hair partially hiding his eyes, gripping them tight, pushing his face more desperately into your soaked cunt. Tingles run down his spine as you cry out his name in pleasure. You have him worked up once more, taking all his strength to fight the urge to fuck you again.

Nagumo holds you by the curve of your waist, keeping you in place as you arch your back once again. He’s drinking you, your juices trickling from the side of his mouth. You taste sweeter now when you say you’re close as you keep grinding your hips.

Having you fall apart for him is all he wants to see, all he wants to hear, all he wants to feel.

And he’s going to take you there.

So good, he murmurs an octave lower, encouraging you to fuck yourself into his mouth. A couple more rolls of your hips, a few more flicks of his tongue, you finally snap. And it feels so so good for Nagumo to make you cum, putting his mouth to good use and having you worked up in an entirely different way. You’re so pretty like this—breathlessly gasping curses alongside his name with your pussy melting onto his tongue.

He could do this for hours. Eat you out just to kill time. But he needs to be patient again, for now.

Replacing his mouth with a hand, he thumbs your clit while he continues to fuck knuckles deep inside you, curving and thrusting in slow paces. A wordless whine is all you could do as a protest, but he doesn’t stop. He leans closer to you, his kisses demanding and sloppy, showing how good you taste. Hazy brown eyes staring you down, he murmurs against your lips, “You alright? Enjoying yourself?”

A breathy “Shut up.” is all you could manage. Not sure if you’re simply fucked out, dazed, awkward, angry… or all of the above. His touch leaves you and you want it back more than you care to admit. He comes back and wipes you down, and then helps you with your clothes. He doesn’t say a word other than making sure if you’re okay. Everything feels normal and abnormal at the same time, making you momentarily forget how icky and unromantic the place was.

Nagumo may have done things to you that only lovers do.

And like a flip on a switch, he’s back to his usual self. His carefree innocent smile appears like nothing happened. So you try to play it cool as well, chuckling, “You’re still… D’you wanna go for round two?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He slips into his shirt and pants, dusting it with his palms before meeting your gaze, smiling, “It’s almost lights out. Come on.”

“Oh, right.” You nod, he opens the door and you both go your separate ways like usual.

First time you lost the bet.

First time Nagumo shows you what a true win feels like.

February 14 is here and after strolling around the bustling academy, pushing a cart full of sweets he received from his admirers in different departments, Nagumo and Sakamoto settle in the cafeteria, still drawing a steady stream of girls eager to give what they had prepared for them.

Across the room, you’re sauntering towards where Nagumo is, empty handed. And as you reach his pile of gifts, you grab one and plop down on his lap sideways before looking at him with a coy grin.

Nagumo watched the whole thing, his awe hidden behind a clueless smile as you slam the box less forcefully than you wanted to on the table. After prying it open, you select a piece, holding it between your fingers an inch closer to his lips. You pause to speak, “You know, I heard we’re a thing now.”

Nagumo blinks. “Ohhh? Says who?” He rests his cheek on his hand while he holds your waist with the other, his deep brown eyes now filled with amusement gazing up at you.

You feed him a piece, and then another, not giving him a chance to chew. And another one, until he has a mouthful of chocolate made by some girl who doesn’t matter right now. After looking around, you let your bloodlust seep out a little as you wipe the corners of his lips, just to spread it more messily. Leaning closer, softly, you finally answer, “Says me.”

Good fold, he thinks.

You see, the thing about Nagumo is he wants. He may not know exactly what it is all the time, but what he wants is what he gets. And right now, you’re exactly where it’s at.

[akimoroll]

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

this is my valentine's day gift for @akifordessert!

thank you for listening to my silly talks and encouraging my writing, it means the whole world to me and I had to put somehwere all the new knowledge about nagumo that we got.

WARNINGS: 18+ minors/ageless blogs don't interact, very selfship-based, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex implied/referenced, dub-con (they are both a bit wasted, but also this has been building up for a long time), implied/referenced trauma/murder/gore/survival guilt, relationship angst and commitment issues, manga spoilers, set in an au where they get some rest.

the bottle had been a bad idea from the get-go.

still, it'd have been rude to be invited to your friend's penthouse with empty hands, especially when you were celebrating something big, like the jaa finally being debunked and his reinstatement into the order.

well, there had been a lot that had gone through the months and hence the moment that you had received a message on your phone from an unknown number with a familiar code to decypher, you had been well aware that you couldn't say no.

still, you could have not bought the wine bottle.

a whole wine bottle.

you weren't exactly a lightweight, and drinking and eating always ensured that you'd get at best a positive buzz which made you slightly more sociable than usual.

assassins were trained to handle alcohol in quantity and to recognize their own limits, although there was only so much that could be done with somebody's metabolism.

as in the case of nagumo.

your glass wasn't ever empty and neither was his as he kept on pouring while each recounted the current state of affairs you were working on.

"... should have seen shishiba's ugly mug when he saw me again"

the first sign that the night had gone too far should have been the way that nagumo took the occasion to lightly come closer to him while he slurred the comment.

"... I think he's still butthurt about that one time when they gave us chase and you kicked osaragi's ass while I was doing the same to him".

"can't blame him, although I think it's more that he just really can't stand you".

still, the buzz had felt good and nagumo's added warmth after years of having denied it to yourself was as intoxicating as the liquid that kept being poured into your glass.

"... surprised they let you join again. especially after you... let me think... tried to kill a few of its members...".

"you were with me onto that!" he protested cheekily, and lightly making his glass overflow onto the floor although neight of you seemed to care.

"... oh and you also threatened the same man who recluted you, didn't you".

"yotsumura hasn't gone that far to hold a grudge because of such a silly thing" nagumo exclaimed, as he downed the liquid in his glass in one shot, making you giggle at the childish display.

"hey, pace yourself!" you shot back, grabbing the glass from his hand and trying to ignore the way your hand lightly itched where you had touched, inevitably a sign that it had been too long "... or you'll throw up and I am not your cleaning lady".

"yeah, she's actually nice to me".

"because you pay her!".

he was far too gone, to try such cheap tricks; comments onto your meanness hadn't ever worked onto you, especially after graduation. there was so much more that he could have used to hurt you: betrayers, double-faced and especially a personal favorite, coward.

«you have grown quiet» hadn't you? «... should I put some music? or do you want me to fill your glass».

«no to both or we'll get an headache» another glass and you'd effectively border onto uncharted territories, especially when nagumo looked like he was far past them although still himself deep down.

and yet, the way he was slightly slouching, with his hair falling down his face.

there had been a time throughout the mess that had come before this peace that you had been so close to tell him what you had felt for him.

that despite the bet on your feelings back at jcc, you still loved him and hadn't changed your mind even though you had been horrible to him while working.

"it was all an act, but somehow I know you could see right through it".

«you ain't funny» he shot back, moving to push back, probably to do either of his proposed activities as he regularly disregarded your desires. probably because he knew you better.

you went to stop him out of habit, but as he turned to you, you only then realized how close you were.

how you could see the subtle way in which his eyelashes flustered and his eyes dipped to your lips for but a moment.

sober nagumo wouldn't have done it.

or he'd have but not in the almost dorky way in which he rushed your gaze back to you, scared to be caught.

you had a protest right at the tip of your tongue and yet held back.

something was more urgent as your hand went to thread softly into nagumo's hair and before you knew it, you were pushing him closer to you, till your lips clashed into an awkward kiss, as your dizzy brain hadn't properly valued the measure of distance.

you found yourself kissing his upper lip more than his mouth, and the slight space between his nose and mouth, in an awkwardness that hadn't been there even on your first kiss, which had been coincidentally with the same person whose mouth you were slobbering.

when shame got to you and you moved to detach yourself from him, still, nagumo brought you closer.

he whined, like a puppy, pawing at your shoulders and adjusting for you your heights as he went to straight up lick into your mouth with even less coordination than you. the result: your lower lip felt humid and you chased after him finally meeting in the middle.

his hands went from your stiff shoulders onto your back in matters of minutes while your own pulled onto his hair, fisting it enough that you didn't know why it didn't hurt.

it was clumsy as you made out like two hot teenagers at their first fondling session, and yet, as unrefined as it was you found yourself quickly moving your hands lower as nagumo's own slipped underneath your dress - of course, you had worn a fucking dress, thinking that it only fit the rich aesthetic he gave off.

you hadn't thought at all about the easy access it gave him, as he stroked gently over your panties.

«... wet...» he mumbled against your hips, pushing out his tongue as he licked against your cheek, no better than an overexcited puppy and somehow the sight felt endearing.

especially with one of his hand creating friction between your thighs

«... fuck, I missed... I missed feeling you get wet against my fingers».

«you are drunk» it was important to reinstate that, if not for him, for yourself; what were you even doing crawling into bed with the man that you had been loving since you were eighteen, drunk and ditzy? «... you are seeing... seeing things».

«no, no... I... it isn't... seeing» he giggled cutely and you hadn't thought that it'd ever come back, the slight openness of eighteen and not yet, being tainted by your respective sins «... I can... fuck... you feel exactly as you used to do. you feel like in my fucking dreams».

had he dreamed about this?

about the moment that you'd clutch your thighs against his hand not to make him leave you, although your mouth said the opposite.

in vino veritas or some shit like that and if your mouth was too sober yet, your body didn't share the same curtesy.

and maybe that's why although you knew this was wrong - you were ditzy at best, old enough to consent and definitely the tension had been brewing for years at his point - you let nagumo push you down on your back, splaying your messy hair on the floor, cold marble, enough to make you giggle.

"... you have an expensive house and the place where you first fuck me since we got back, is your floor?" you teased, catching a glimpse of something almost genuine in his displeasure with himself as if he had thought that your comment had been serious.

«come» he said, as he got off you, making you inevitably whine at the loss, although you didn't know whether it was the loss of his warmth or the fact that you felt extremely clingy due to the alcohol.

read as in you had missed him, so tantanizingly much.

normalcy wasn't even close to a concept for what could happen between you; neither of you would ever come close to quit your job anytime soon and you wondered whether a family was even in the works, as it felt presumptous to think that a simple drunk fuck might be enough to restablish a relationship between the two of you.

although you did follow him - you'd be awful to have your host stumble through his mansion - as he led you to his bedroom; similarly to the rest of the place it was expensively impersonal and yet, you didn't see much because the moment that the door was closed, you were slammed against it.

nagumo had, at least, the decency to cushion your head clumsily with an head before he resumed the series of sloppy kisses, moving downwards your body as his hands fiddled with pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing yourself to his huge black eyes.

for once you were thankful of the alcohol, as in any other state, you wouldn't have been able to hold the sight of his eyes as he slowly slid your panties - one leg and then another, strangely patient for a drunk guy - before he left them on the floor, looking back at your heated core.

he didn't do much for enough time that you thought it was done, he'd be soon asleep in the alcohol haze.

instead, he dived forward enough that hadn't you had the door behind your back, you'd have stumbled backwards.

hands dug into your thighs to keep you in place, as a clumsy tongue tried to spread your foldes while his nose inevitably bumped into your engorged clit; oh fuck, if your knees hadn't doubeld over before, they certainly did now, as one of your fingers dug into the wood of the door as if you could leave marks.

«sl... slow, nagumo» you plead and ordered at the same time, unsure of whether you should make this quit for both of your sakes but holding yourself back «... it's been... it's been a while».

«good» he sounded so self-satisfied, with his face shiny from your juices «... I fucking want you to come to me, for this. only me».

«pres...» your voice cracked pathetically as he adjusted his positioning and dug his tongue into you while his thumb went to flick your clit.

it was too much as you hadn't been lying when you said it had been a long time since your orgasms hadn't been hand-delivered by yours truly, but you simply took it.

«... ump... presumpt... fuck, right there».

whatever he blubbered against your sticky folds was probably a comeback to your patheticness. to the fact that even in your alcohol haze, you surrendered to him.

the bottle of wine had been a terrible idea and yet, you found yourself not regretting it one bit.

---

coming back home to nagumo always felt like being greeted by an overexcited puppy that had grown overnight and hadn't yet gotten used to his measures.

«... eggs! eggs!» you screeched, holding the groceries bags away from him as he smashed himself against you wholly, pressing your chests impossibly closer as if he wished for you to become one, which wouldn't have been surprising «... and I was gone for two hours at max!».

«bed felt cold and you left a note» he simply muttered back, nosing his way through your neck and after weeks of enduring this, you had an inkling that it might be because he was trying to sniff any male cologne, although you usually just went to the daily farmers' market nearby.

as nagumo wasn't a morning person - and neither were you - you usually took advantage of his sleeping pattern to get a few rounds done by the time he'd wake up.

usually this would entail grocery shopping, checking a few stuff for work - although both you and nagumo were supposedly off - and restock on stuff you couldn't have gotten to through the week.

a silly deal between you and nagumo was that you'd use one of the two days of the weekend to do something productive, instead of lazying around his bed as he wished; the other, you'd do that till he got bored. or hungry which was more likely.

the newfound routine felt at times constricting and far too domestic and there were times when you'd be walking around the farmers' market and wonder whether you did deserve it.

whether the blood on your hands would ever taint what you were building.

thankfully, being smashed into your boyfriend's - self-appointed - tits felt quite grounding in that department.

«... yeah, yeah, but you know that each saturday I have my routine» it was the last signature of singlehood that she mantained although not many approached you due to the ring on your left hand.

a huge rock that got you oftentimes worried that somebody might have the brilliant idea to mug you.

and you'd have to beat somebody for it which felt like unnecessary paperwork.

«now, I have to shower and then I can join you back in bed till lunch time».

«mmh» her muttered appreciatively, although his kisses were definitely anything but, as they dragged hot and heavy against your exposed collarbones, making you flustered as you lightly started slapping his back to be released.

«no, you can't join me in my shower» you shot down the unspoken question, hearing an hiss and a whine.

did you mention that you boyfriend - wait, fiancé - was an overgrown puppy?

«... entertain yourself with the new sudoku magazine i got you».

at that he was off you, making you almost chuckle at his antics as he went - almost childishly - to reach for the bags in your hands, digging his hands to grab at what you had promised and giving you the chance to look at him; nagumo was always pretty in a way that got you to genuinely want to chew down onto something but him... in the morning... with you?

devastatingly gorgeous.

messy hair, eyeabgs that were going away and geeking out like a nerd for his silly sudoku game.

hhm, although your favorite look on him had to definitely be his drunken gaze when he finally slotted himself inside of you again, a few months ago. when he had looked up at you while you tried to control yourself from tightening around him, not wishing to give him the upperhand.

it had all been useless, because the moment that your eyes met he had uttered.

"fuck, I am never leaving you, again" and that had been it.

«so, you do love me!».

you were taken aback by your horny thoughts, when again a pair of arms was carelessly thrown at your neck, although with far more intensity than before; this was meant to annoy you as he nuzzled his nose into your collarbone.

«ahhh, you do like me! you like me so much that you remember what I like! and...!».

«... and that's enough» you pushed me lightly; you knew that nagumo had better reflexes than that and he could have easily enveloped you again, but you guessed being in a relationship required bargaining: you agreed to sleep into his bed till lunch time and let you handle your stuff in peace «... you get an headstart but don't think that I won't finish my crosswords first, alright?».

«that's because you cheat» he said with a soft smile, moving to turn towards the bedroom «... look up the words while I am asleep».

«if somebody wasn't a huge big baby...» you teased genuinely, simply receiving a clear glare although even that didn't feel threatening in the slightest. and even if it did, it was in a good way.

as of lately everything felt ... threatening, but in a good way.

[akimoroll]

Love at First Sight (According to Nagumo, Anyway)

The fluorescent lights of Sakamoto’s convenience store buzzed faintly as you stepped inside, your body heavy with exhaustion. It had been an unbearably long day, and all you wanted was a cold drink before heading home.

You barely registered your surroundings as you trudged toward the refrigerated section, focused only on grabbing the first thing in reach.

You didn’t notice him.

Nagumo was already there, lazily leaning against the shelf, twirling a pack of Pocky between his fingers like it was some kind of weapon. He had been in the middle of pestering Sakamoto, as usual, when he caught sight of you walking in.

And just like that—bam.

Nagumo’s world stopped.

The second he laid eyes on you, something inside him shifted. He had faced assassins, evaded death, and pulled off impossible tricks countless times, but nothing—nothing—had ever hit him as hard as this.

You were exhausted, barely paying attention, completely unaware of his existence. And yet, in that moment, he knew.

“This is it,” Nagumo whispered, staring at you with wide, lovestruck eyes.

Sakamoto didn’t even look up. “What?”

Nagumo grabbed his sleeve, eyes still locked on you like you had personally descended from the heavens. “Sakamoto. That’s my wife.”

Sakamoto finally looked at him, unimpressed. “No, it isn’t.”

Nagumo ignored him, straightening his posture and smoothing out his jacket like he was about to meet royalty. He practically floated toward you, his usual smug confidence now mixed with something far more intense.

You, meanwhile, still assumed he was just another late-night loiterer. When he stepped into your path, smiling far too brightly for this time of night, you barely spared him a glance.

“Move,” you mumbled, reaching past him for a can of coffee.

Nagumo inhaled sharply, clutching his chest as if struck by Cupid’s most devastating arrow.

“She spoke to me,” he whispered in awe.

Sakamoto sighed loudly from behind the counter.

You, still too tired to care, moved toward the register. Nagumo immediately followed, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Rough day?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still carrying that teasing lilt.

You barely acknowledged him, handing Sakamoto your drink. “Yeah.”

Nagumo beamed. “Don’t worry, my love. From now on, I’ll make sure every one of your days is perfect.”

Sakamoto shot him a deadpan look. “You just met her.”

Nagumo turned dramatically. “And yet, my heart has already chosen.” He looked back at you, completely unbothered by your utter lack of interest. “We should set a date.”

You blinked, finally looking at him properly. “…What?”

“Our wedding,” he clarified, smiling like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “I mean, we can take it slow if you want, but I’m thinking a spring ceremony. Cherry blossoms, romantic atmosphere—you’d look stunning.”

You stared at him, then at Sakamoto, then back at him.

“…Are you drunk?”

Nagumo gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “Sakamoto, she wounds me.” He turned back to you, grinning. “No, my dear. I’m just madly, deeply, and eternally in love with you.”

You exhaled sharply, grabbed your drink, and walked straight out the door.

Nagumo watched you go, completely undeterred. In fact, if possible, he looked even more smitten.

“She’s amazing,” he sighed dreamily. “I’m definitely marrying her.”

Sakamoto rubbed his temples. “You’re an idiot.”

Nagumo grinned. “Yeah. But a devoted one.”

Like. Comment. Request

[akimoroll]

Gotta appreciate the Koreans for always leaking I mean sharing. Sharing is caring after all!

===

My comments on the fanbook translations so far!

===

Nagumo loves sleeping and pranking haha I’m glad to hear he (hopefully) sleeps enough.

And JCC assassins basic training includes a drivers license requirement!!! They can even get additional licenses with motorcycle, ship, and even piloting.

Hokkaido and Kyushu have assassin academies too. But the JCC is the top and gets you a job after graduation.

Nagumo liking his bed and the night. And disliking mornings and cars 🤣

My theory about introvert Nagumo has been proven 🙂‍↕️ if the google translated page is correct at least.

Nagumo, Heisuke and Natsuki had girlfriends in the past 👀 but being assassins leaves little time for romance. So their relationships don't last long.

[akimoroll]

sauce of the gif in pinned post? even gif makers deserve to be credited!

the gif’s made by me but i did credit the animator in the pinned post itself.

it’s from a skdy AMV by @daren6228 on youtube!

[akimoroll]

hi are we okay? pt. 2

[akimoroll]

crush my soul back into my body.

yoichi nagumo x f!reader—wc 2.9k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fluff.

cw: reader wears a dress/ponytail.

[←prev] | [next→]

“You’re getting quite used to calling me frequently.” You said with your phone to your ear, you descended the steps in your building while on the phone with Nagumo.

He chuckled, watching the entrance outside, “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

As you reached the main hall and took a peek outside, you replied, “I’m on my way down.” teasing him by making him wait a bit.

“Alright. See you.” He chuckled again before he hung up the call.

He waited and waited while scrolling mindlessly on his phone. And moments after, you emerged and entered his line of sight looking absolutely stunning wearing a sundress in your beloved color. He was completely smitten at the sight of you walking towards him as you brightened the blue hours with your presence.

You approached him, stopping a foot away, “You’re unusually quiet for once.”

He leaned against the side of the car, his hands slowly making their way into his pockets with his gaze sweeping admiringly from your feet and up. He noticed the flower he had drawn on the skin of your forearm, a smile gracing his lips in the process. He let out a lighthearted sigh, “Now I wanna change plans.”

You raised a brow at him and scoffed, “So are we going or not?”

He snickered, “Just kidding.” pushing himself away from the car and opening the passenger door for you. He bowed in a theatrical manner then beamed, “My apologies for keeping you waiting, princess.”

The first stretch of the drive to the movies was quiet. Between the two of you, he had always been the one to initiate conversations but he was thoroughly distracted by your whole get up. And every time his hand reached for the gear shift, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how close his touch was to you, making him ponder the idea of taking you out more often.

“How does steak sound for dinner?” He finally broke the silence as the car came to a halt at an intersection, the traffic light on red.

“Sounds good, but I’m full.”

He looked at you with curiosity, “You already ate?”

You nodded, “Yes. There’s hardly any real food at the cinema.”

He nodded slowly. “Ah, right.” tapping his fingertips rhythmically on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to turn green.

When you arrived at the venue’s parking lot, you swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the car, not waiting for Nagumo to open the door for you. He followed you silently, his eyes fixated with the way your hair and the ends of your dress danced with each step you took in front of him. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed you from behind.

The line wasn’t long but as you waited to buy tickets, someone came up to him, asking why he hasn’t been hanging out with her lately. In response, he simply said that he was busy.

As soon as it was over, he leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “Have you decided on a movie yet?”

You responded with a nod and asked, “Who was that?”

He shrugged, his hand reached out and started twirling your ponytail around his fingers, “Someone from my department, I think. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried.”

He snorted, “Of course, you’re not.” as he continued to play with your hair while you allowed him to do so.

When the two of you approached the booth to purchase the tickets, he moved you gently to the side as he paid for it. One of his hands remained on your shoulder, his touch warmer than usual, until you both entered the cinema and settled into your seats.

You leaned closer to him and whispered, “Send me the receipt later, I’ll pay you back.”

“You can pay me back in other ways.” He popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth after a playful wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

Throughout the whole movie, Nagumo found himself unable to focus with the way you were playing with his hand while keeping your full attention on the big screen, slightly leaning forward from your seat. He initially reached for yours because he longed to hold hands with you. Yet this was somehow more enjoyable, as he felt the soft pads of your fingertips and how small your hands were compared to his. He wore a silly smile the entire time as his eyes fixated on the way your breathing would pick up at some scenes, the way the ends of your hair would brush against your back, and the exposed skin of your neck.

And before he knew it, the credits were already rolling.

“So what did you think about the movie?" he inquired as the two of you headed out of the cinema and walked side by side towards the parking lot.

You proceeded to ramble on about your thoughts with the film, the direction, casting, the OST, some plot holes—name it, you touched upon them. It was an effective way for him to better grasp the film he had been too distracted to fully appreciate, while listening to the sound of your voice.

Upon reaching his car, he opened the door for you, buckled the seatbelt with his face so close to yours while you continued on with your chatter. He sported a sly grin as you didn’t seem to notice. However, you paused and spoke under your breath, “You’re so…hot.”

A shit-eating grin appeared on his face, “Why, thank you.”

“No, literally. Do you have a fever?”

He let out a soft laugh at the thought of being caught. He lowered his head onto your shoulder, a somber smile lingered on his lips when the realization of this day, his first date with you—if he can even call it that—has come to an end.

“I’ll drive.” you offered. “You live off campus, right?”

How did you know? He wanted to ask, his head still awkwardly resting on the crook of your neck, but didn’t want to delve further.

“I’m fine, no big deal—”

“No. It’s dangerous.” You spoke firmly as you interrupted him, causing him to close his eyes in surrender.

After switching places, he reclined his seat while explaining how to get to his place. He was feeling uneasy, unsure if you were irritated so he attempted to lighten the mood by cracking jokes and starting up casual conversation. However, the fatigue was slowly taking over him, struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open as the steady motion of the car lulled him to sleep.

Nagumo woke up the following morning feeling disoriented and overheated. His memories were fuzzy after being found out by you. He was feeling a lot better than yesterday but it wasn’t until he noticed the heaviness on certain parts of his body that he realized it was because of you, all snuggled up and practically sleeping on top of him with your arm around him, your legs tangled with his own, and strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead.

He endured the conflicting emotions and the discomfort of overheating as the swelling in his chest grew and reached his lips, stretching into a wide foolish grin. He wanted nothing more than to remain still. He didn’t want to disturb you but even more than that, he craved the feeling of having you this close to him for as long as possible—not wanting for this moment to end.

He began looking around areas his eyes could reach. On the coffee table, he noticed what seemed to be a box of paracetamol and children’s fever patches. With his free hand, he quickly realized he had one stuck on his forehead. An involuntary snort escaped him a little louder than he meant it to be, causing you to stir awake.

He watched intently as your eyes fluttered open, his shy grin growing wider as your gazes met. You sleepily muttered, “Feeling better?”

A soft hum and a nod was all he could do as he was momentarily taken aback by your action when you reached for his forehead to check his temperature. And as you pulled your hand away, he was torn between the urge to follow your touch and letting you get up.

“I have to go. I have a group project and we’re falling behind schedule.” you announced, heading towards the bathroom with your dress from the night before folded neatly in your hand.

“Yeah. Of course.” Nagumo’s composure intact. However when you shut the door, he couldn’t help cradle his face with his palms from being flustered after learning you were wearing his shirt the entire time.

After a few moments, you emerged from the bathroom looking refreshed, clutching his now folded shirt in your arms. “You should eat something heavy for breakfast.”

Nagumo sat upright on the couch with a slight smile, all calm and collected. But when he noticed you were heading to the door and putting on your shoes, he finally spoke up, “Should I give you a ride back?”

“I’m fine, you should just rest.” you replied before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Nagumo plopped his entire body back to the couch, trying to figure out what had happened and how you ended up staying the night. But as the day went on, he recalled everything gradually in chunks, feeling inexplicably giddy or nervous. Or all of the above.

///

He’s still sleeping, you mused after purchasing some items on the way to his place. This time he was truly quiet, looking serene as you gaze at him in awe. However when you checked, he was still hot to the touch and to make it worse, his stomach made a faint rumbling noise and made you think: Did he not eat earlier?

Upon reaching his driveway, it took a few minutes of grumbling before he finally woke up all groggy and flushed. From stepping out of the car to his front door, he remained quiet that it was almost as if he didn't realize you were accompanying him. You observed him from behind as he input the PIN code to his door and struggled to take off his shoes at the entryway. And as soon as he collapsed onto the couch, he immediately fell asleep once more.

He needed to eat something, so you went ahead and checked the fridge, only to find that it only had leftover rice in a tupperware, a couple of bottled water, sugary snacks and energy drinks inside. This was why you grabbed an instant miso soup on your way here, just in case. But you hadn’t anticipated it would be this bad. Chiding him in your head: This is why you got sick, Nagumo.

As you waited for the water to boil, you opened the packet and poured its pasty contents into one of the three ceramic bowls you found stacked in his cupboard. Nagumo’s apartment seemed like he didn’t spend much time in it. He didn’t have a lot of stuff based on your observation, perhaps because he lived alone. The beeping sound from the electric kettle brought your thoughts back to the present. You blew on the steam to prevent it from reaching your face as you carefully poured the hot water into the bowl of leftover rice, stirring it with a spoon until it was thoroughly combined.

He remained asleep when you made your way back to where he was resting, gently placing the soup on the coffee table. You felt bad having to wake him up but he needed to eat—at least that’s what his growling stomach was telling you—even if it meant doing so while half awake. And after feeding him, you gave him meds to reduce his temperature and decided to apply a fever strip. It was only after opening the packet that you realized it was meant for children upon seeing the cute cartoon character printed on it.

It was the one you were used to from your childhood so you grabbed it mindlessly. He’s childish anyway, you smiled to yourself as you carefully pushed his hair up and placed the strip onto his forehead. His brows twitched slightly at the contact but he seemed too exhausted to be woken up by your touch, so you continued to run your fingers through his hair and then to the side of his cheek, gently rubbing small circles with your thumb.

The hairs on his arms began slowly rising so you decided to venture into his room to find a thin blanket.

Upon entering, the chaos that was his bedroom nearly gave you a brain aneurysm. It wasn’t that messy. There was just a lot of stuff. Some odd items here and there, scattered on the floor. Some unfinished projects. A huge Lego set that was close to completion. He seemed to be fond of trinkets and silly toys as displayed on the shelves. There you saw puzzles, a 10x10 Rubik’s Cube (that you fought the urge to pick up), and photographs—a lot of them.

Nagumo’s bedroom walls were also adorned with drawings, posters, cut outs and even more photos. And in the process of looking around, you spotted some sculpting tools along with various references placed on his desk as you imagined him cooped up in his room. This corner of his apartment and its mismatched items were reminiscent of the intricate tattoos that decorated his body.

Focus. Must. Find. Thin blanket.

Unfortunately, his blanket was too thick and it didn’t seem to be a good idea to cover him with it. You grew impatient and didn’t want to search for an alternative so you hatched another idea.

Pulling the first drawer of his cabinet, you quickly realized his undergarments were predominantly dark in colors.

This is noted—a thought crossed your mind.

Shaking your head, hoping not to find anything weird, you pulled the second drawer. There you found his t-shirts and after carefully going through them, you found something with an incredibly soft texture. You wasted no time and quickly swapped into it, noticing the subtle scent that reminded you of him.

When you returned to Nagumo, you saw how he was still experiencing bouts of shivering and realized that he was still in his outside clothing. It’d be impossible to change him into something else considering how big he was. So instead, you carefully peeled him off his short sleeved polo amidst his grunts and gibberish protests, leaving him in just his tank top and pants.

With caution and care, you snuggled beside him. It was cramped and his skin felt hot to the touch, yet you found comfort in his arms. In an effort to provide him with as much warmth as possible, you lied almost on top of him hoping to keep him from trembling.

Nagumo suddenly murmured, his words sluggish, “I swear these fever dreams are getting out of hand.”

Your brows furrowed, lifting your head to look at him with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

One of his eyes cracked slightly open, peeping at you before closing it once more. “My baby’s lying on top of me.”

“Baby? Who could that be?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you observed his reddened face, noting his slight frown. He replied, “You… Duh.”

“What’s my name then?”

Your name slipped softly through his lips with his eyes closed. It took all your effort not to laugh at how endearingly cute he was being, so you responded, “I see. Do you dream of me often?”

“Mhm. Although most of them are bad.”

“How bad? Tell me.”

“Don’t wanna.” He whined as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Fine.”

He fell silent for a few more minutes as his arms loosened around you, his eyes rapidly flickering beneath his eyelids while his body twitched occasionally.

Nagumo suddenly spoke his mind again, “I think you should kiss me better.”

“Can’t. I might get sick too.”

“I don’t give a shit…” he whined again with a scowl spreading across his face. “I can take care of you.”

“Take care of yourself first and we’ll talk when you’re better.” you said as you poked the tip of his nose.

“Promise?” He asked, his voice sounding child-like, causing you to soften your already tender gaze at him and repeated, “Promise.”

Silence enveloped the room once more with him dozing in and out of sleep. You gently traced the tips of his lashes and the arch of his brows, causing him to flinch slightly.

Nagumo whispered, “She scares me.”

“Are we still talking about your baby?”

He nodded in response to your question, you whispered to him, “Why is that?”

“What if…she won’t like me back?”

Like you “back”?

Tracing the bridge of his nose with your fingertips, you paused, “Maybe she’s still trying to figure you out. But she did mention you’re cute…and a great kisser.”

He giggled breathily in response to your words which led you to smile in return. He fell silent once again, but you still wanted to say something while he was in this state. And with utmost gentleness, you pushed his bangs back and in the softest tone you spoke of his name. “Yoichi?”

He responded with a soft breathless hum, and you went on, “Just say it. I’m not a mind reader.”

Voice thick with drowsiness, he murmured, “You’re not? I was hoping you were.”

“I kinda wish I was.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I know.” You sighed and reached for his flushed cheek, tenderly rubbing tiny circles with your thumb. “Sweet dreams.”

@cjafjatkstke <3

[akimoroll]

Thanks for fueling my latest interest... I don't usually care much for characters but I literally consume university AUs when I get attached to a character. This is awesome. Love you.

aahhhhh 🥹🥹 this means the world to me. thank you anon and ily too!! 💗

[akimoroll]

the intimacy of being silly together

[akimoroll]

hi are we okay

[akimoroll]

chapter 2 (read here) of nth

c/w: nagumo x afab!reader. AU. multiple lives. soulmates. angst/romance. parenthood. girl dad nagumo.

a/n: wrote this using my phone and out of the blue so it’s pretty short and choppy. sorry.

[akimoroll]

i posted something for nagumo on ao3 if anyone’s interested :3

[akimoroll]

Nagumo Yoichi x Reader | fluff, totally unserious jealousy, past break-up, the slightest dust of angst, established relationship, not proofread at all

“Did you have any boyfriends before we got together?”

“Yoichi, we literally went to school together,” You mumble sleepily, not quite willing to entertain his nonsense tonight. Whatever he has come up with this late into the night, it cannot be rational or worth the inevitable discussion.

“You're avoiding the question.” His hand finds its way to your cheek, cupping it gently. The palm of his hand is warm and you rest your face against it, leaning into his touch even when he tries to turn your face towards him.

“Was he taller than me? More charming than I am? Better at killing?”

“You and I met when we were fifteen,” you groan, rolling onto your back so you can finally face him. Yoichi is lying on his side, his head propped up on the hand that is not on your face.

Pinching your cheek gently, he tells you, “There are children out there being assassins. You never know.”

“You know you were my first boyfriend.”

He hums. Your eyelids feel heavy but through your eyelashes, you catch sight of the smile that tugs on his lips, causing his cheeks to round out cutely. Closing your eyes, you sigh.

“You were also my second.”

He's quick to reply and you have to fight off the cheeky grin that threatens to make itself known on your face.

“We didn't break up,” Yoichi mumbles, his fingers tracing over your face so softly that it might just send you back into dreamland soon. “We just took a break.”

“We were apart for quite a few years.”

A scoff leaves him and you think you can hear the pouty expression on his face. Cute. “Sometimes breaks take a little longer. So what?”

Wrapping his arms around your middle, he tugs you closer until your chest is right up against his and you feel his heartbeat thrum through your body.

Or is it your own? You don't know anymore but it doesn't matter. What's his is yours and what's yours is his, so why not extend that to this as well?

“You'll be my last boyfriend too,” you add after a bout of silence. “Promised.”

Yoichi stays still for a while as he listens to the way the rhythm of your breathing slows. Until you're fast asleep.

You're in his arms. You're warm, you're real, and alive. Even after all those years that he refers to as a measly break. He knows it was more than that. Curses that it was.

When he presses his lips against your forehead, he knows that he will be your last. Just as you will be his. He'd promised himself.