#HELP this was genuinely so fun to make though. so i have no regrets

[riiwriting]

Another Year | Lucifer (Obey Me)

summary : after a big, rowdy birthday party that you were not expecting, you end your birthday the way you really wanted to -- getting the eldest brother to open up.

a little blurb based on your year 2 birthday call from luci in the og game! based on the original dialogue, though it won't be exact.

warnings : none! just a lot of fluffs hehe

You silently thanked the stars as you fell backwards against your mattress, your eyes immediately shutting around a pounding headache. You were so genuinely grateful to see another birthday come and go in the Devildom, but you were undeniably exhausted. You loved the boys, and you loved how much they had grown into showing their affection for you, there was no doubt about that. However, it would be nice if once in a while they asked before doing things.

For the second year in a row, your birthday was celebrated with a surprise party at the House of Lamentation, complete with decorations, am esteemed guest list of your favorite people, and a cake baked by Barbatos himself. While the effort was most definitely appreciated, it still wasn't how you would have chosen to celebrate the day.

Since you first arrived in the Devildom, it was rare that you saw an uneventful day. If Mammon and Asmo had taken a moment to consult you before going into full party-planner mode, you would have told them as such. Of course, such wasn't the case, and you ended up having quite an overstimulating evening. Though you did manage to have fun throughout the night, you were extremely happy to be in bed.

You were just beginning to feel yourself drift off when your D.D.D began to buzz on your pillow. Unintentionally, you let out a groan as you peeled one eye open to glance at the glowing screen. As soon as you recognized the contact photo, your expression brightened, and you found yourself immediately regretting your temporary annoyance. You hit answer, a content smile on your face as you pressed the speaker to your ear. "Hello?"

"MC, hello. I'm sorry my brothers caused yet another ruckus this year," Lucifer was immediately apologizing, his deep voice quiet in your ear.

His consideration made your stomach flutter. A year ago, you would've convinced yourself that he was just seeing it as his duty to make sure you're surviving in the Devildom. Now, you knew better. "I am a bit tired, I won't lie to you," you admitted bashfully.

Your words were met by a sigh, "I apologize. They went a bit overboard this time." After a moment of contemplation, he added, "I'll make sure to scold them accordingly tomorrow."

You couldn't help the slight laugh that left your lips. "Oh please let them be, Luci. It was a nice party, really. The effort was nice," you insisted, feeling a bit guilty. The thought really was what mattered, and the boys went to great lengths to make the night special. The last thing you wanted was for them to feel as though they had done something wrong.

Lucifer hummed, before conceding with a begrudging promise not to mention it. You enjoyed a comfortable silence as Lucifer apparently shifted about his room on the other end of the line. Just as you felt your eyes begin to lid once more, his throat cleared, and his voice returned. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again. I admit I'm quite happy we got to celebrate another of your birthdays together," he admitted sweetly.

A smile naturally curved onto your lips as you quietly thanked him. "Of course," he responded quickly, and if you could see his face, you imagined his cheeks were, by this point, probably a bit flushed. "I'm sure humans get to celebrate far fewer birthdays than we demons do."

The thought brought a twist of fear to your chest. Being here, it was so easy to forget about your mortality. Other than Mammon's casual insistence on calling you "his human," it was easy to ignore the fact that you didn't really belong here at all. And yet, here you were, and after two years and two wonderful birthdays, you couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"I've loved spending my last couple of birthdays here," you told Lucifer, your eyes closed as you snuggled further back into your pillows. "Even with the parties."

Another low chuckle drifted through your D.D.D. as Lucifer took in your words. "I feel very lucky to have gotten to spend not just one, but now two birthdays with you," he gushed, the admission the most open you had heard him in a while.

Before you could sort out what to say that would be just as meaningful, he surprised you again. "If possible, I'd like to celebrate many more of your birthdays in the future," he murmured. There another brief pause, before his gravely voice returned soothingly to your ears. "If we do get to spend your next birthday together, perhaps I can see that it's a bit more relaxing for you. More special."

You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones, or the way his voice sounded in the silence of the night, or your sudden realization of how short your time here might really be, but a spark of confidence lit up your chest. "Do we really have to wait a year for that?" you asked quietly, your sleepiness evident in your tone.

There was a very brief pause, ended by Lucifer saying, "It's getting rather late, MC. You said yourself that you're tired, you should get some sleep."

You hardly gave your next words a thought before they were tumbling out of your mouth, "Is that not something we can do together?"

This time, there was no pause. "I'll be there in a moment, then," he said curtly. The call dropped before you had a chance to respond.

Turning on your side to face your bedroom door, you waited patiently for the forty seconds it took for him to reach your end of the hall. There was a light knock on the wood, though from the way the door immediately creaked open, you knew it was more a formality than anything. The light from the hall illuminated a familiar physique, clad in nice blue pajamas and a messy bedhead. "MC?" Lucifer spoke quietly into your room, his gaze falling onto you almost immediately.

Rather than respond, you simply stretched your arms out in his direction, wordlessly inviting him into your embrace. He wasted no time in letting the door click shut behind him before taking a few long strides to cross your room. You shuffled over to make space as he peeled back your blankets and slid between the sheets beside you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, holding you tightly against him. As soon as your head found a comfortable place on his chest, you felt his entire body relax.

You couldn't help the sigh of contentment that left your lips. "Perfect," you murmured dreamily.

Gentle fingers traced up and down the length of your arm, making it increasingly harder to resist the sleepiness rising behind your eyes. "You are, yes," you heard Lucifer murmur into the top of your head. "I hope you've had a nice birthday."

At his words, you tipped your chin upwards, dragging your eyes open to look up at the handsome demon in your bed. "The day was nice," you responded. Then will a small smile, you added, "but this has made it much better."

Lucifer's smile grew to mirror yours, his eyes drifting as he admired every inch of your face. "I'm glad I could make your birthday special," he responded softly, his fingertips moving from your arm to your cheek. Delicately, you felt his thumb brush down the outline of your face before coming to a stop beneath your chin. You leaned into his touch, a change in body language that he read perfectly.

Your eyes slid shut as he pulled you closer, eliminating the little bit of space left between you. When his lips met yours you melted, your fingers gripping the silk fabric of his open pajama shirt. With one of his arms wound around you waist, he held you as though he was afraid you might disappear. After a moment, you pulled away, opening your eyes to see Lucifer's affectionate smile.

"Happy birthday, my darling," he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Now I think we could both use some rest."

Humming in agreement, you snuggled into him and let your eyes drift shut. With his arms around you, and your weight pleasantly pressed against his body, each of you slept better than you had all year.

[yesmanforever]

How Yes Man feels towards Courier

So, to throw my hat in the ring on how Yes Man feels about Courier

This is specifically regarding a particular type of Courier: one that is competent, interested in taking over vegas, that does most if not all of what Yes Man directs him to do.

(This might not be entirely coherent because it's late and I'm tired and it might not be wholly true to my feelings because, with Yes Man, I think there's enough mystery in his writing that many interpretations can be supported. many valid flavors. this is one of mine I suppose. and I'm not even totally sure about all of this -- his ambiguity where you can't be certain on how he feels or what he'd do make him feel SOOO dynamic and alive. )

This is so fucking long I'm sorry.

TLDR Yes Man has his own opinions and desires, apart from taking over New Vegas or just liking power and violence without any sense of morality per se, and appreciates you and comes to bond with you and see you as having some kind of strategic or even platonic relationship.

Some of Yes Man's personality that I feel is relevant:

I think he dislikes his lack of autonomy over his helpfulness, rather than his helpfulness itself, which (along with politeness) he does genuinely prize. To support this I posit the line where he compliments the ultra luxe: it has the voice direction line where he's uncomfortable giving his own opinion. So, even though it's not just him automatically agreeing with the player or what he's been told, he still praises them for that. It makes sense, because it's an essential part of him. I think he sees his helpfulness/politeness/niceness as who he is, at his core. It's his lack of choice on who to be helpful to / having to be 'helpful' in ways that he strategically disagrees with that screws with him.

He enjoys power and violence. He wishes he could make decisions re: the dam (says so outright 'I wish I could!', but is unable to), and again has his own opinions on the Khans that are out of the realm of strategy to take over the dam. In general, he seems to have preferences and opinions that fall outside of the purview of taking over New Vegas. At the same time, he seems to subconsciously recognize that his love of violence is maybe inappropriate. I believe his line regretting bragging about getting you shot is genuine which I discuss below, and I think him being shy about clearly wishing he could shoot his missiles is genuine insecurity too rather than just being cagey

Personally, I interpret it that he is not programmed 'to take over the strip' but to 'help someone take over the strip'. In the end, I think if you are successful with him, his allegiance is to you, not new vegas. There is a general attitude as you get closer to the battle of hoover dam where he becomes not only enthusiastic, but conspiratorial to you. There's at least one voice line with the voice direction of '{we are so going to kick ass}', where he's specifically enjoying doing it with you as a team. Actually I went back through and he has QUITE A FEW lines where he refers to the actions in the plans as things 'We' are doing. I think in the end, his feelings towards you are strong (platonically or what have you). He accomplishes what he was essentially built for, through you, you become completely intertwined with something he had a great deal of fun / a great sense of pride and accomplishment in. I think the distinction between being built to help take over vegas and 'help someone' take over vegas is very important, because I truly don't think his allegiance is towards vegas at all, and if it is, it is because his allegiance is to you who is to new vegas, if that makes sense.

To touch back on him having his own opinions rather than the fate of new vegas I'd like to bring up Mr. House. I personally feel he has a kinship and great admiration for house and his intelligence/foresight/love of data and numbers. I feel like the way he says 'Mr. House sure liked his numbers' shows at least a little regret, which is strange if he doesn't care about anything other than the takeover, because Mr. House was in the way.

adding onto that: I think he does really feel bad about shooting you in the head. I do not think he has a true sense of the morality or what violence means. He's isolated and built with a specific purpose. I think through tone of voice there's plenty of examples of him switching what he 'wants' or thinks on a dime (like when you're deciding what to do with the families), but his voice when he apologizes for shooting you sounds similar IMO to his voice when he talks about how robots maybe deserve to get blown up -- I think he feels bad about himself rather than what he did to you, per se. Like, he feels bad that he didn't understand it was wrong or why it was wrong, but without that much self awareness, more subconsciously. (for an example of something I don't think he feels bad about: I personally think with so many other examples of lines where through tone of voice he expresses emotion, the smarmy 'your vengeance is going to feel so incomplete' line is insincere, to contrast. He's fucking with you in that line lol while also kind of being like…yeah, bet you feel bad about not killing me, but i feel worse about not being able to die. sucks, huh?)

to cap it off, I think he wants to be your friend. I think his line about wanting you to like him and feeling empty is the closest we get in the game to a plainly expressed negative feeling. I think when you accomplish things with him, letting him feel good about his competence and strategy and accomplish what he was made for, when you show him respect by listening to him and not fucking up his plans, I think he genuinely comes to like you back. why wouldn't he? he's programmed to be nice. He'd like you, in his own way, to the depth that he could, because that's who he is, whether that's right or normal or not. and you are a contrast to benny who IMO treated him like shit. in comparison to him, you actually gave him the satisfaction of completeting his directive, and you got him out of the Tops, into the mainframe, which he plainly genuinely loves and feels powerful and happy in.

actually final PS thought. I do think Yes Man even post victory feels some resentment towards Courier, but what's new? To him this is probably just a fact of life, right? Who does he personally know that hasn't used him? Its' so natural to him that I don't think he'd hate you for it. Fucked up but true. I do think he'd want to get one over you ;) what flavor that takes is up to you but IMO i think this is basically canon lol he has frustrations.

===

Playthrough, Yes Man's evolving feelings on Courier:

I think at first, Yes Man feels neutral towards you, with some dislike and some like. I personally believe he resents Benny for Benny's treatment of him (only using him as a tool, hidden in a closet), Benny's personality (abrasive and scummy), and Benny being the reason for traits of himself that obviously he hates (lack of autonomy). You, on the other hand, come in and help him accomplish what he's programmed to do, and if you're competent and listen to him, give him respect and bolster a greater sense of purpose and self-worth. I believe you fill up what is empty inside of him, a bit, esp as time goes on. You get him out of the Tops, you treat him better than benny (the type of Courier I'm talking about anyway), you get him into the mainframe. You let him be competent and direct you and show off and give him power. For Yes Man, that's the world. How could he not like you a bit (platonically or more, depending on what you wanna think).

As you get closer to the battle, his voice lines become more excited and conspiratorial ({we are so going to kick ass} being a voice direction line -- WE, not YOU. Another example is 'We have options' -- again, you're a team in his eyes IMO), I believe he sees you as a team. you're accomplishing things together. This caps off with the end, where he has that strange hesitancy to say goodbye which he doesn't show in any other line, and tells you that 'WE' had a lot of fun together. There's actually quite a few lines where he says 'we' are doing things together. I really think this speaks to a positive attitude to you, and not only to you, but to you two as some kind of unit or friendship or what have you.

Okay. I'm sure there are other points in here. But have this. Thank you if you read this far lmao

[spacerelativity]

me and my best/boyfriend who is also me but not

[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?

part two

There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.

He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.

No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.

But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.

"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.

"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."

You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.

A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.

Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.

Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.

Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.

He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.

The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.

"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.

"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.

"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.

"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.

"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.

"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.

The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.

But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.

"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.

"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.

"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.

"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."

"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.

His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.

Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.

Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."

"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.

He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.

"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."

Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.

"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.

"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.

"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."

"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.

You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.

"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"

"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.

"Do you want me to show you first?"

"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.

Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.

"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.

You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.

You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.

You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.

[earthchica]

Can't Hide Love

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you're afraid of getting hurt and denying the love you feel for Terry, so you reject him when he confesses his feelings for you, but later, you might regret that decision.

warnings: light angst, jealousy, playing mind games, use of the n-word, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub, thighjob, daddy kink, choking kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, friends to lovers, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl), words: 2k

note:

sequel to I Want You

-

You and Terry sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming through the window and casting a warm glow on your plates.

As you both chewed your breakfast, an unspoken tension filled the air, making the clinking of cutlery sound almost deafening. You couldn’t help but notice how Terry's eyes held yours, their intensity unyielding.

After an eternity, you decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly as you finally said, "Last night was real fun but it can't happen again."

Terry clenched his jaw and looked at you, confused. "Wait, what, why?" He asked, his voice earnest and searching, his eyes trying to uncover the truth.

"I mean… if you think I only want sex, then you're mistaken. I like you a lot, shorty. I've felt this way for a while now and would love to take you on a date.” He added.

His expression shifted as he processed your confession. “I like you too, Terry, but…” Your voice trailed off, thick with hesitation and unspoken feelings.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “I just don’t think I can handle anything more than what we have; let's stay friends,” you finished, hoping to keep things uncomplicated.

Terry's disappointment was noticeable, and he tried to conceal the hurt rising in his chest. He nodded as if he understood, even though every part of him wanted to question your rejection.

“Okay!” he said with a shrug, quickly finishing his orange juice to mask his feelings. He moved to the sink to clean his plate, the sound of clinking dishes filling the silence between you.

You were taken aback by his reaction. “Okay, that’s it?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you crossed your arms, a mix of disbelief and concern surfacing within you.

Terry turned his head slightly, a blank look on his face. “What do you want to say?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in genuine curiosity. You took a breath and shook your head. "Nothing."

The two of you left at that, and a few days went by after you rejected him. You were busy preparing for your art gallery opening, feeling excited and nervous.

When the event finally kicked off, you scanned the crowd hoping Terry was coming to at least to support you. Your heart skipped a beat when he walked in with a bouquet of roses.

“Yo, look who made it!” Terry called out with a broad smile, and you felt a rush of warmth. Terry approached you and hugged you quickly before pulling away and handing you the bouquet.

“These are for you. I’m proud of you, shorty, for real. These pieces are dope.” Terry said, honestly looking around at your artwork and your heart fluttered.

“Oh, thank you, Terry. It means a lot to have you here, I thought you weren't coming after, you know,” you replied, trying to keep it cool despite the knot of mixed feelings in your chest.

"Hey...despite that, we're good!" Terry said, reassuring you and placing his hand on your shoulder. You smiled brightly, moving your eyes away.

You waved your assistant over, who wasn't too far away to take the bouquet to you before going back to Terry. “Come on, I want to show you my favorites,” you said, leading him through the gallery.

As you walked, you pointed out different pieces. “This one is inspired by the culture of New Orleans. I wanted to capture that moment of the people.”

Terry nodded, genuinely impressed. “I see you, shorty! That’s hot!” You smiled and continued to show him your work, each piece sparking a conversation-filled detailed explanation.

Finally, you stopped before a special painting that you had kept hidden. “And this one,” you said nervously, “is for you.” As Terry looked at the painting, his eyes widened.

It was a portrait of him, perfectly capturing his eyes and bright smile. “Wow, you painted me? I don't remember you asking for permission to use my likeness,” he joked, grinning widely.

“But I'll let it slide because this is really dope, girl. You really outdid yourself. You’ve got me looking good!” Terry remarked, studying the details closely.

Your heart fluttered as you replied, “Thank you. I'm glad you love it; it means a lot to me.” Terry nodded and stepped back, admiring the piece fully with a playful smirk.

“You once said you only paint intimate pieces like this when you’re in love. So, what does this mean?” he asked, looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “Terry, this isn't the time or place.”

He stepped a little closer, a teasing grin still on his face. “Come on now, don’t act like I ain't onto something here. You gotta admit, this painting is special—just like us.”

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. “For real, Terry, drop it.”

“Why you gotta be like that? You know deep down you love me,” he said, his voice earnest but still playful. “I mean, who else you gonna paint like that? You had that canvas waiting just for me.”

You laughed softly, but it was a nervous laugh. “It’s just art, Terry. Ain’t gotta mean all that. You know I paint a lot of folks.”

Terry stepped even closer, leaning in a bit. “Nah, shorty, don’t play me. I see how you look at me when you think I ain't watching. You can't hide the love.”

You glanced over your shoulder, noting your other friends arriving. “Look, Lana and Kayla are here.” You took a step back, creating some space between you. “We can talk later, alright?”

He let out a sigh. “That's cool, and I know you’ll miss me when I move on.” As you walked away, you could feel him watching, his lingering gaze heavy on your back.

You greeted your other friends with a smile, hoping the moment with Terry would fade into the background. As the night went on, you went to look around for Terry.

Your eyes land on him as he chats with a stunning dark-skinned woman who is clearly attracted to Terry. She leans close, laughing at his joke while touching his arm.

You felt a pang of jealousy twist in your stomach. You decided to talk to him, hoping to get his attention. “Terry, can we talk for a second, please?”

Terry barely glanced your way, his attention still locked on the woman. “Yeah, just a sec!” he called, waving you off. You tilled your head, looking at him sideways.

You feel frustrated and a little petty, so you turn your gaze back to the crowd. Feeling bold, you spotted an attractive white guy across the room who seemed interested.

You walked over, flashing a charming smile, and began chatting and playfully flirting with the pretty man named Charles. You could feel Terry’s gaze, but you didn't look back.

You showed Charles some of your artwork, and you noticed Terry following you too closely, as did the woman he was walking to. You had where you just wanted.

“Hey, you wanna grab a drink after this?” Charles asked, leaning closer. You considered it, tempted to make Terry feel what you were feeling.

As you were about to answer with him, Terry finally broke away from the girl and stormed over. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected.

“Just having fun, Terry, and meeting new people like Charles here,” you replied, crossing your arms as you shot him defiantly. “I thought you were busy talking to some girl .”

“Stop playing with me. You’re just trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “I’m gonna go,” Charles replied.

You and Terry ignored him and he just walked away. “Yeah, only because you started it and completely ignored me talking to that trick?” you shot back.

Your words are laced with a bitter edge. A tense silence fell between you as the atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions. Terry pulled you into the quiet space.

The tension between you was real, and confusion danced in his eyes. “Why you all pressed about me talkin’ to some girl?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You turned me down, remember twice?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the heat of his body close to yours. “I know…T I messed up, okay? I’m just scared!” You said, the words tumbling before you could think.

“I didn’t want to get hurt. You know my last few relationships were rough. I thought shutting you out would help me, but it worsened everything.”

His expression softened, but he still looked conflicted. “So, you rejected me twice and then got mad when I started lookin’ elsewhere, then tried to make me jealous. Shit is childish, shorty.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I know, and I'm sorry, but I realize I want to give this a chance; I want you, Terry, and I want to go on a date if the offer is still open.”

Terry stepped closer, his fingertips grazing your dark brown skin, sending shivers down your spine. “It's cool, and hurting you is the last thing I want to do, baby If I’m feelin’ you, I’m all in, no games.”

Your heart raced at his words, the warmth of his body drawing you in. “I want to be all in, too. Show me that taking this jump is okay," You said, you could feel the pull between you.

With that, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his. All the pent-up tension exploded as you kissed him fiercely. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the world around you fade away.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. “I'll show you, baby, but first, let’s get out of here,” Terry suggested, and without a second thought, you followed him out of the event.

-

The familiar surroundings felt comforting and charged as you returned to the apartment. Both of you didn’t make it to either of the bedrooms.

Terry leaned in and kissed you hungrily in a sudden burst of lust, his lips warm against yours, his scuffed beard tickling you slightly. He gently pressed your back against the wall.

His hands were all over your body, removing your panties as his lips didn't even separate from yours. You pulled away, helped him out of his shirt, and then pushed his pants with his boxers down.

Terry kicks them off before unzipping your dress and taking it off. He cursed, biting his lip at the sight of your exposed breasts. "Terry" You let out a moan.

You grabbed the back of his head, feeling his braids. He twirled his tongue on your nipple like it was a sucker before sucking it into his mouth.

Terry looked up at you with those pretty light eyes of his with so much desire before popping your nipple off his mouth. He kisses you, dancing his tongue against yours.

He crouches with his legs wide out and gripping your hips. He begins thrusting his throbbing dick through the gap of your thighs. "You feel that, baby? You feel how hard you make me," Terry asked.

"Yes, fuck Terry. I feel so good; keep going, please," You moaned in pleasure, feeling him thrust faster through the soaking wetness of your pussy lips.

You throw your head back, loving the feel of his large hands gripping the plump rounds of your ass. "Mmm fuck" You bite your lip, rolling your hips and trying to match his rhythm slightly.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of that pretty pussy, baby." Terry moans, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into a kiss. He lifts your leg to hold you on his hip, and you look at him.

You licked your fingers and rubbed your clit before letting him line himself toward your pussy. He thrusts in slowly while looking deeply into your eyes.

You kissed him and gripped his shoulder as he began fucking you against the wall. "Ahhh, fuck me fuck me, Terry, this dick is good," you moaned in pleasure.

"You like getting fucked against the wall, huh, lil mama?" Terry asked, his voice low, watching your eyes roll back in your head, leading it against the wall.

He lifts you fully, grabs both of your legs under his arms, and begins pounding harder. "Oh my goodness, yes....and....you love this pussy don't you, huh?" You asked.

Your eyes seductively, staring into his soul. "Yeah, I fucking love this pussy, lil mama. This pussy is my mine, you hear me, nobody else? You got that?"

"Yes, yes, Terry, I got it, yes." You nodded at him with a light smirk, grabbing his neck as he continued pounding like a damn beast.

"Let me hear you, baby," Terry said, leaning your back against the wall and kissing your neck. You closed your eyes with your mouth in O, trying to get the words out.

"It's yours, all yours, Terry. Oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum." You moaned, feeling tears of joy coming down your face; the pleasure was so freaking good it brought you to tears.

"Cum, baby, cum on your dick because it's all yours," Terry moaned in your ear, and that is all you needed for you to let out the cry of his name, feeling yourself almost coming on down.

Terry puts you down slightly, has a hold on you to keep you steady, pulls out, and flicks his dick against your clit; you gasp, feeling a gushing of wetness coming out of your pussy.

"Ahhhh fucking shit, muthfucka," You cried, seeing the stars and feeling your body begin to tremble. You could feel yourself slowly falling from the wall.

Terry picks you up bridal style, takes you to your bedroom, and lays you down on your stomach on your bed. He lets you catch your breath as you come down from your high.

"Look at you, got you all breathless and shit; just know i'm not done with you, lil mama," Terry said, giving your ass smack, and you whimpered, feeling him hover over you.

Terry wraps his hand around your neck, gently but firmly tilting your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His intense gaze holds yours.

He kisses you passionately and thrusts inside of you harshly, slightly muffling your moans as he pulls away and grabs your lower back to get a different edge to go deeper.

"So fucking big and so fucking deep, fuck me," You moaned, gripping the sheets of the bed so tight you thought you were going to rip with your bare hands.

Terry lifts himself up and smacks your ass while gripping it in his large hand, watching it jiggle with his every thrust. "Shit, lil mama, after this you're gonna be my girl now.

"And I'm giving you what you deserve; you know I ain't like these other niggas. I'mma take you out and treat you right, okay! I know you love me. You tried to pretend, but I see through it," Terry added.

"Yes, I'm your girl; I wanted it and can't hide love anymore. I want it, Daddy, I love you," you cried out, more tears of joy coming down your face, which made him smirk.

His hands wrap around your neck as you let out loud moans as he thrusts faster and harder with force like no other than before, and he pauses his thrusts for a second, making you whine loudly.

"Say it again, say you love me again," Terry says, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot, still holding your neck.

"Ahhh, I love you, Terry, ahhh fuck I loved you ever since we met," you screamed, feeling yourself coming hard. Terry continued to thrust until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you too, baby," Terry said, pulling you into a kiss, feeling his cum spurt into your pussy. He pulls out, watching it drop out of you.

Terry falls against you on the bed a second before flips to lay on his back, and both of you lay there catching your breath. Eventually, you both took a shower.

Terry went to get some night clothes and returned dressed in sweatpants as if you were doing your night routine. You walk out of the bathroom into your bedroom.

You chuckled to see Terry get comfortable under your covers. You walked over to the bed, got in, and snuggled into his chest. You both held each other in a sweet, soft silence.

“You really mean what you said?” you asked, just needing reassurance from him. Terry looked deep into your eyes, his expression soft and beaming.

“I did. You deserve the world, baby girl, and I wanna give you that if you just let me,” he said, being honest. You smiled and said, “I’ma let you, Terry.”

“Good! Um... you meant it when you said you really love me, right? " he asked, and you smiled back and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I really do, Terry. I meant it.”

His eyes lit up with happiness, and he leaned closer, gently kissing your lips. As the moment's warmth enveloped you, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, hoping for the best in the future.

[hxnbi]

hi!! I love your writing :). I wanted to request an angst to fluff scenario where reader likes the boy and confesses to him but he turns her down, but then he later regrets it and comes back?? and they live happily ever after??? i don’t really have any specific preferences other than that but im such a sucker for rejecting and regretting/she falls first he falls harder scenarios!! im using her/she to refer to the reader rn but i dont have any preference, just not sure how else to write it haha id love if you could include suo, togame, and umemiya but totally up to you :).

hey so thanks sm for your request! i loved writing this and with these boys, tho umemiya's does end on a pretty angsty note with how i was initially drafting it. i hope thats okay ♡

confessions, rejections, and regrets

⸻ °♡⃘ . you confess to the boy you liked, only to be rejected. or so you think, as, unbeknownst to you, the next time, it would be him begging for your heart

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Suo Hayato

Tears. All you could feel dripping from your face and down your cheeks was the salty aftermath of your own tears. And standing before you, the boy who had just rejected you.

"I'm sorry, I just don't see you in that light," Suo, with his hands firmly placed in front of the other, repeated, further breaking your heart into a million pieces.

Pitifully, you laughed—but little humour was found in the dreary quiet of your heart. "I know," you whispered, choking down the ache that was your confession to the person you'd grown to admire and love.

The pain lingered with every thought—that Suo was simply just too good for you, but so did your respect for him. Even if you tried your hardest to do so, you just couldn't find it in yourself to dislike him. 

Suo had always been kind, even as he rejected you.

That was part of why you liked him so much in the first place. Even if it hurt, you couldn't blame him for having such feelings about you that just weren't the same. You couldn't continue to be selfish.

"I know. Just, thank you, for hearing me out," you said, your voice becoming surprisingly steady, slowly accepting what you heard. "That's just the kind of person you are."

And then you walked away. You refused to let him see the fresh tears welling up in your eyes. You respected his choice. If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you couldn't force it. It had to be mutual—or nothing at all.

Days turned into weeks, and though you still felt the ache of his rejection, like with most things, you had to move on and push forward. You treated Suo the same way you treated everyone else. Although, you couldn't deny that it was rather awkward after Suo saw you well up with tears dripping down your face like a waterfall. And it didn't help that you both were friends with the Furin first years, like Kiryu and Nirei, whom you were very close to.

So, time and time again, you would avoid Suo like the plague; all the while, he seemed to watch from afar, unsure of how to bridge the gap. You were always respectful, never bitter, never clinging. It was difficult, but you refused to let your emotions tarnish your friendship or make things awkward. 

Suo, however, found himself unable to stay away. He'd initially assumed your feelings for him were just surface-level, a kind of shallow attraction to his looks, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. He only realized this when he peeled back the layers of who you were—a kind, genuine individual so far removed from the superficial affection he had imagined. And as time passed, he began to notice more—the way you treated everyone around you with the same kindness and consideration.

But over time, Suo would see you purposely trying to hide from him, all the while pretending everything was okay and nothing changed. It was saddening, in a way, how your laughter grew quieter, your gaze avoiding his, and the fun and games you two once shared together seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

But you couldn't hide from Suo forever. 

"He just doesn't like me, Nirei.”

Taking a walk around the neighbourhood that evening, following his typical routine, Suo had unknowingly overheard you talking to Nirei. And unlike his straightforward character, he continued to hide behind the wall and listen, his heart aching with every word he caught from your lips.

"It’s not that I don’t care…" you said softly to Nirei, who had asked about what had happened between you and Suo. "He rejected me, and I have to respect that. You can't have a relationship if both sides don't feel the same."

"I see... B-But do you still like him?" Nirei finally asked, twiddling his own thumbs. 

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "I do."

That conversation was what really hit him hard. That you still liked him. That maybe... he wasn't too late to come around.

"Nirei, not knowing what to say to a person who seemingly still had feelings for one of his closest friends, winced, "He'll... he'll come around," not necessarily finding the right words, but you didn't appear to mind it. Rather, you were too distracted with your own feelings.

And Suo, hidden from view, felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure why he'd been hiding in the first place, but suddenly, he couldn't bear to listen any longer. He shouldn't even be here, listening to your conversation and very obviously intruding on your privacy. 

But just before he could slip away, though, very conveniently, Sakura popped out from behind the corner. "The hell are you doing back here?" loud enough for both you and Nirei to hear and turn your heads to meet the noise—and Suo, right before your very eyes. 

Your eyes went wide in shock as you spotted Suo standing right there, seemingly who had heard everything.

"S-Suo, what are you—"

Back-and-forth looks were exchanged, and so too was the silence. Nirei and Sakura gave brief, knowing glances, and with a single look, Nirei left you two alone, much to your dismay and humiliation. 

You stood frozen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which managed to form coherent words to say to the boy who had basically just heard you confess your feelings to him once again. Nervous and fidgeting, you finally let out a sigh. "Hayat– Suo, I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I promise that I'm not going to bother you anymore. I really—"

But your words and apologies were left on deaf ears—cut off mid-sentence before Suo suddenly reached for you, his hand gently pulling you toward him. Before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, your head resting against his chest.

"I was wrong."

"…H-Huh?"

"I was so, so wrong," he muttered, grasping at the edge of your sleeve even tighter than just a second ago. "I thought you only liked me for shallow reasons, but... I've realized that I like you too. More than I ever let myself admit. And I apologize for making you wait."

You blinked, your brain going haywire, trying to comprehend every word that left his lips, but Suo only held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head. When you didn't answer, he went on—whether that was for your or his own reassurance that you wouldn't be the one rejecting him this time was unclear.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to see it, but I don't want to let this go," he murmured. "I don't want to lose you." He regretted every moment of him rejecting you since that day. And if you were to be the one rejecting him this time… 

Your breath hitched at the base of your throat, disbelief seeping into your every thought. Was he serious…? The boy who had rejected you, who had caused you so much heartache, was now confessing to the very feelings you had once longed to hear.

'You make it so unfair…' you muttered. 

Part of you wanted to reject him, to make him feel how you felt after he rejected you. But deep down, you knew you couldn't find it in yourself to throw away this chance. And neither could Suo.

"I… I still like you, too."

Your voice was hardly audible, but Suo heard it loud and clear. He pulled away just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft and vulnerable. "Then let's start over."

Your lips trembled into a small smile. "Alright."

Suo leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, until Suo suddenly grabbed your hand, making you jump slightly. "Come on," he said, tugging you gently. "Let's go grab something to eat. I know of a good spot that just opened that serves your favourite food."

"W-Wait, Hayato, I thought you were on a diet?" you stammered, completely caught off guard by his change in behaviour. He had always been strict about his routine—always so disciplined, so focused. But now, he seemed different. Lighter, somehow. But that was Suo for you.

He smiled, softer this time, his eyes lovingly meeting yours. "I can't miss this opportunity to spend time with a special someone. You can't keep avoiding me forever," making your face flush crimson as his words sunk in.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Togame Jo

Shit… he shouldn't have said that.

Togame's words had slipped out before he could stop them, and the second he did, he knew he had fucked up. He cursed from under his breath, his hands already reaching out toward you as your face crumpled with hurt.

You stood there, staring at him—processing every snide word that left Togame's mouth—your chest rising and falling as if you were struggling even to breathe. He didn't mean it. He knew he didn't mean it, and he was pretty sure you knew that, too. But the damage was done, and he could see it in your eyes, the way he could see the shimmering of unshed tears ready to drip down your flushed cheeks..

"I'm sorry," Togame said immediately, his voice softening as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier. He could feel you stiffen in his hold, your hands pushing weakly against his chest, but he wasn't about to let go, not on that horrible note. 

"Let go, Jo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You made your decision. You've... I've already said enough."

But Togame wasn't listening. Not with what he just had done and said that only left him with regrets. He couldn't take it anymore. Not the sadness in your voice, not the way you tried to pull away from him like he was a stranger. No, he wasn't letting you walk away like this, not after everything you had shared. And certainly not after everything he just spat at you.

"I didn't mean it, okay?" His words were rushed, almost desperate. Togame's grip on you only tightened with time, refusing to let go even an inch. "I was stupid. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was saying, but I promise you, I'll fix this. I can't stand seeing you like this."

Your heart hurt at his words. You were utterly torn between wanting to believe him and protecting yourself from further hurt. After all, he had already said plenty… "You don't get just to say something like that and then take it back, Jo. It doesn't work like that..."

Togame's breath hitched as your words sliced the air and, in turn, his heart. His mind and body froze

That wasn't it. Not at all. He liked you. He loved you.

His rejection was but a projection of his own insecurities—that he wouldn’t be the right person for you.

But never did he think that he too didn’t want anyone else in your life, that it made his heart ache just thinking about it, the idea of someone else seeing your smile, hearing your laugh and holding the piece of your heart he so desperately longed for—that he previously had thrown away. 

He hated himself for it—hated that he’d let his fears dictate his actions, that he’d hurt the one person who made his world feel less empty.

But he couldn’t let this end here. Not like this.

"I know. But— fuck…" he said quietly, his voice breaking, cracking into incomprehensible pieces of a heartbroken sentence. His shoulders trembled as he finally loosened his rough grip on you. Although his hands still rested hesitantly on your shoulders. “I know I can’t undo what I said, but I need you to know... I was wrong. I’m so damn wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

Scrunching your face, you shook your head, gaze fixed on the ground as you tried to will away the tears that had long streamed down your face. “Why, Jo?”

Why. A simple explanation as to his stupid, idiotic, impulsive mistake was all that you wanted from him. 

His heart clenched at your words. Pure guilt tore him apart. He wished he could go back and rewind time to the moment before his insecurities took over. But he couldn’t. All he had now was this moment to make things right.

“Because I’m a coward!” 

His confession all tumbled out in a rush, unfiltered. “I’m a fucking coward.” Every word was a weight being lifted from his chest, all in hopes that you might understand might hear him out, even if it wouldn’t completely change things.  “I thought... I thought you deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t screw things up like I always do. Someone who could make you happy without dragging you into all my mess.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, for once, the honesty in his voice catching you heavily off guard. He appeared to be so unusually vulnerable, completely stripped of the bravado he usually wore like armour on his fists.

“But I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, his hands sliding down your arms as if needing a sense of reassurance that you were still with him and by his side and not a figment of his imagination. Hesitant but hopeful. “Every time I tried to push you away, it just made me want you more. And I was a complete idiot for thinking I could ever be okay without you.”

“Togame...”

“And I get it if you hate me for this,” he interrupted, all the words tumbling out of his mouth before he lost his nerve. “But I need you to know... I’m not asking for a second chanc—” he paused his sentence, before he could lose his resolve completely. “I love you. I’ve loved you all along, even when I was too scared to admit it.”

Your chest tightened. You oh-so-wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the pain, but his confession was undoing every wall you had tried to build.

“I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Just... don't walk away from me. Please. Not like this."

“.....”

“...Do you mean that?” 

Your voice was hardly audible as you looked up at him.

“More than anything.” 

Togame cupped your smaller face in his callous hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek, kissing the pain away.  “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

For the slightest moment, neither of you spoke. You could hardly hear a thing other than the sound of your breathing and the beat of his heart pressed tightly against yours. You felt his arms around you, warm and safe, and despite everything, a part of you wanted to stay right there, to believe that things could be okay. 

Then, slowly, you nodded, the smallest of smiles breaking through your tears. “I hate that you’re so good at making me believe you,” you said softly, for the first time all day, a small laugh escaped your lips. And it was heavenly. It was what he loved so much about you. 

Togame’s lips quirked up in a tentative grimace. “Does that mean… I get another shot?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you murmured, but your voice was warm, filled with the hope that maybe—just maybe—this time things could be different. "I'm not going anywhere," you finally said. "But you have to mean it this time, Jo."

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. "I do. I promise."

So, just like that, you let it go. Slowly, you relaxed in his arms, letting the weight of your sadness slip away, if only for a moment. Togame didn't let go, and neither did you.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe him. For now, that was enough.

⸝⸝ 𑅛𑅫 Umemiya Hajime

"But we can still be friends!" Umemiya's voice rang out, almost too cheerful for the conversation you'd just had. He flashed you that familiar smile, oblivious to how his words felt like a punch to your chest. 

"Oh! There's actually an event at Furin soon. I know you like a good barbecue. You should join us! It'll be fun!"

You stared at him, nonblinking, and for a brief second, you couldn't believe he was serious. How could he be so, casual? He must be playing you, right...? But no, that was just how Umemiya was, as you've found him for years.

You had just poured your entire heart into him, and in return, he offered you friendship—a friendship that you already had with him for years—as if it were a consolation prize. 

But your heart ached so much, desperate for any kind of connection to him, that even the slightest bit of attention, however hollow, felt like a lifeline. So you nodded, forcing a polite smile across your face. "Yeah... sure, I'll come."

And just like that, you became that of a shadow, a close friend who laughed at his jokes, stayed by his side when he needed someone, and cheered for him during the times when you both would play video games. You were nothing more than a mere member of his Furin family. All the times you would talk and laugh together with them were great,  and even the occasional late-night hangouts. But it wasn't enough. It was never fully enough. 

Staying close to Umemyia only made you want him more, and that fact haunted you. Being so close to him yet knowing you couldn't have him the way you wanted was agony. The more time you spent around him, the more you craved his attention, but not as a friend, no, but as something more. It gnawed at you, that longing, and with each passing day, it became harder and harder to pretend. 

It wasn't just unfair to you—it was unfair to him, too. He deserved someone who wouldn't secretly hope for something more, who wouldn't keep pushing the boundary between friendship and something deeper. You knew this arrangement couldn't go on, not without tearing you apart.

So, one night, after finally gathering the courage, you decided to put an end to it. But unbeknownst to you, Umemiya wasn't doing any better either. 

Before, he never considered you more than a friend—someone who'd been there through all the ups and downs, always supportive, always kind, always you.

He never questioned the ease with which he could talk to you or the way your laughter seemed to brighten the atmosphere of any room you were in. 

So when you finally confessed to him that very day—that your feelings toward him were more than what he thought—he hadn't thought much of it beyond friendship. He didn't think it was deeper than that… not until after he turned you down.

At first, Umemiya was convinced it was the right thing to do. He told himself he didn't feel the same way. But as the days passed, those same thoughts weighed differently on him. The way you still smiled at him, still treated him the same even after his rejection—it gnawed at him. 

He started seeing the little things he hadn't noticed before. The way you always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up after a bad day, the way your eyes lingered on him for just a second too long, the way your laugh sounded like it was just for him. 

And suddenly, it wasn't just about friendship anymore.

At night, alone with his thoughts, he realized he had been wrong. So, so wrong. The feelings he'd dismissed as just a fleeting affection had grown—almost insidiously—into something he couldn't ignore. It became a constant. An ache of longing to be near you, but this time, not just as a friend, but as someone who could hold you, kiss you, call you his own. 

So when you suddenly asked for him to, and you meet up together alone after the barbeque, Umemiya's heart jumped in his chest. This was it. This was his chance to fix everything and correct his mistake, to tell you the truth, to apologize for being so dense. He was ignorant, blatant even, to one of the dearest people in the world to him. 

Tonight, he was going to do it. He was going to make it up to you by apologizing and asking for forgiveness. He was excited, hopeful even, imagining the moment when he'd pour out his heart and beg for your forgiveness. You were kind, after all. You'd understand. You had to.

He could barely contain his nerves as he waited for you, replaying his apology speech over and over in his mind. 

But when you arrived, something felt off. But Umemyia merely brushed it off as mere nerves. But then you spoke.

"I can't do this anymore."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, Umemiya's heart stopped. He forced a laugh, trying to shake off the unease creeping into his chest. "What do you mean? O-Oh! If you're talking about how Sakura was acting earlier, hah, he doesn't mean it! You know how he is, just messing around."

But you didn't smile. You didn't laugh. Your expression remained serious, and it made his stomach drop. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Umemiya, I can't do this anymore," you repeated once again, your voice breaking, trembling in a way he had never heard before. "I can't just act like nothing happened anymore. I thought that I could continue being your friend. I really tried. But... it hurts too much. Please, I—"

His heart clenched. No, no, no—this wasn't right. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to apologize, to tell you how he felt, to fix things. But now, seeing you like this, so hurt, it paralyzed him.

"Don't say it."

"Hajime, please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

No, he couldn't let you walk away. Not like this. Not when everything had finally clicked for him. Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, desperate and unplanned.

"—BUT I LOVE YOU!!"

And he said it.

The moment those words escaped his lips, everything seemed to freeze, and the silence that followed was unbearable. He watched you, waiting for some sign, some reaction that would let him know he wasn't too late. But your eyes... they were filled with so much pain, it made his heart ache even more.

You didn't speak right away, and the longer the silence stretched, the more regret began to claw at him. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Why did he wait until now, when you were standing here, on the verge of walking away, to realize how much you meant to him? His own foolishness, his blindness—it was too much to bear.

"Why now?" you finally asked. Your voice was soft, barely audible, as if you were afraid of the answer he was giving. It wasn't angry, but it wasn't hopeful either. It was aching, that desperate part of you. "Why... after everything?"

Umemiya couldn’t answer. He didn't have a good reason. He just knew that he loved you now, that he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. But he also knew that might not be enough.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hands trembling at his sides. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... I didn't know until it was too late."

The tears in your eyes broke him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He thought he'd be able to fix things, to make everything right, but now it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers.

And much to his horror, you shook your head slowly, stepping back, the distance between you growing—both physically and emotionally. "It's not fair, Hajime. You can't just say that now... not after everything."

For the first time in his life, Umemiya Hajime didn’t know what to say. He stood there, stunned, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat because, deep down, he already knew.

He didn’t have the right to ask for more when he had rejected the very thing he now realized he couldn’t live without. He had turned you away, convinced it was for the best, only to understand far too late just how much he had thrown away. His indecision—his cowardice—had led to this moment. And now, it wasn’t just his heart breaking; it was yours, too.

He opened his mouth, tried to reach for you, but his arms fell back to his sides. He couldn’t keep making excuses. He couldn’t selfishly try to pull you back, not when his own fickleness had caused you so much pain.

So he let it happen. Right before his very eyes, he watched you take another step back, your face etched with a hurt he knew he had no way of easing. And when you turned, it felt as though the entire world had slipped out of his grasp.

The streets around him blurred as he stared at the spot where you had just stood, his mind and body going through the realization that he might just never get the chance to fix this.

“Wait...” he whispered hoarsely, hand unconsciously reaching forward, but the word fell into the silence, unheard and unanswered.

And with that, you were gone, leaving him behind—alone, with but the cold remnants of his mistakes.

lol i also noticed how each just gets slowly more bittersweet to straight up angsty in umemiya's

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated ♡

[essektheylyss]

My thing about Veth potentially venturing into polyamory is that I do think everyone involved would be perfectly fine with it and happy to help her experiment, and I think that no matter how they do it, it would not fix her. This isn't to say that she wouldn't get any benefit out of trying! It's just to say that it's not a solution to her actual problem, because I genuinely don't think the problem is that she's lacking any one thing that would make her life complete.

Fundamentally, I think Veth struggles with the idea that there will come a point at which she has to settle. Not in a bad way, just in the sense that she is one person with one life and she will have to live within those bounds. Because the thing is, I don't really think her issue ends at struggling to "have it all"; to an extent she does! She is a good parent, even if her kid is a little rebellious; her marriage is supportive (and has fun sex); she gets to go off to save the world with Yeza's blessing on occasion, when the world needs saving. She doesn't have all of these things all the time, but... that's not really a flaw, that's just a fact of life.

But she started out her adult life settling to an extent—even if she loved Yeza and loved being Luc's mom, she did the safe thing that was expected of her. The goblin attack and everything that transpired after shoved her out of that life, but in retrospect, to an extent it likely feels that that pushed her to find something more that she wouldn't have had otherwise. Being pushed to her limit under the worst conditions made her better, stronger, braver, and at the end of it she found that she could have both her original life and much of her new life—so why wouldn't she then wonder if further experiences of that ilk could do the same?

Crucially, she has not actually run up against a hard limit yet, and as such she hasn't had reason to believe that there is a point at which she has to stop and recognize that there isn't more for her to find. When she was drinking more heavily during missions, even when it caused the death of herself or others, there were no long-term consequences. And the thing is, I'm not saying that she should face that kind of major consequence, but she seems as though she is scared to accept that maybe she could be happy if she stopped before she does.

I'm also not suggesting that she should stop experimenting or trying new things—the Luxon knows I am not one to talk in that realm—but I do think she is searching for novelty not because that would make her happy, but because she doesn't believe that she has the capacity to know what would make her happy. She was unaware that polyamory was even an option, so think of what else she might not be aware of! She doesn't have perfect knowledge of the world, after all, so how can she trust that she's found what she really wants? So yeah, she could fuck someone else, and it might even be an enjoyable experience that she didn't know was missing! But that only prolongs the question of what else she might be missing.

I think that deep down, she's terrified that if she doesn't keep pushing until that external hard limit, she will end up with regrets later, and simultaneously she is resentful that her friends all seem to have reached a point where they are largely content with what they have, because she wants them to have everything. She wants herself to have everything. And she has not yet allowed herself to come to terms with the fact that only she can determine when the everything of what she already has is enough, and anything else is the cherry on top.

[bimbosicko]

GET HIM BACK !

when sam accidentally sees dean in bed with two girls, you decide to give him the idea of getting revenge and get him back ۶ৎ

pairings ! sam winchester x fem! reader

warnings ! english isn't my first language, creampie! wrap it before you tap it guys, season three sam winchester, sam is an awkward dork, reader is a BIGGER awkward dork, it starts as a joke and ends with sex... lmao. this is fluff!! with sex!! porn with 2k of plot 😭, let's have a shot whenever i mention cheeks or the word fuck and let's get BUSTED.

author's note ! he's so cute i love him sm (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) remember!! my asks are open and everything you need to know ab myself is in the pinned post in my blog, ily<33

word count ! 5,1 k of words wtf is wrong with me!!

"I am traumatized."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Sam, you're not traumatized..." you said, your voice tinged with amusement, the edges of a smile playing on your lips.

"I've seen Kama Sutra positions that were easier than whatever was going on in that room," he added, your laughter echoed in the room, and for a moment, you felt the familiar ease you always had with Sam.

"God, you're hilarious," you said, shaking your head. "Don't ever change."

"I think that experience changed me," he muttered, sounding truly displeased.

"Come on," you shrugged. "He deserves to have a little fun every now and then. I mean... he doesn't have much time left." The lightness in your voice faltered as the words left your mouth, and you regretted them the moment you saw the way Sam's face darkened.

"Hey," he said sharply, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Don't say that. We'll find a way."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your expression must have betrayed you. "If you say so, Sammy..." The nickname slipped off your tongue as naturally as breathing, like it belonged there. At this point, the bond between you two felt as unshakable as the tides meeting the shore. He noticed, of course, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your chest.

Sam rolled his eyes then, trying to shake off the weight of the moment. "You’re lucky you were asleep during all that. If not, I would’ve sent you to the room," he grumbled with a mock huff.

Your nose wrinkled at his suggestion, heat rising to your cheeks. "Well..." you trailed off, looking anywhere but at him.

His brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by well?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You covered your face with both hands, already regretting opening your mouth. "I didn’t want to see that!" you squeaked, your voice muffled by your palms. Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of his gaze on you.

Sam leaned closer, the proximity making your pulse race. "Wait, wait, wait..." he said, his tone lighter now but with a hint of teasing curiosity. "Are you saying you pretended to be asleep?"

Your eyes widened as you peeked through your fingers, only to find his smirk growing. "Sam!" you whined, your embarrassment mounting.

He tilted his head, grinning now, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "So, you did. Wow, I thought you were fearless, but apparently, even you have limits."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. But the way he laughed—a deep, genuine laugh—made your heart skip. You tried not to smile, but the corners of your lips betrayed you.

For a moment, the air between you two shifted. The teasing banter faded into a comfortable silence, but the unspoken tension lingered, thick and electric. His gaze softened, lingering on you just a second too long, and you felt the world narrow to just the two of you. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

"You're something else, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the fairytale-like spell that seemed to envelop the two of you. Sam was so close that you could feel his warmth, and staying indifferent to it felt like an almost impossible task.

"So... when is Dean coming back from the hospital?" you whispered, locking your gaze on Sam’s eyes.

"In an hour, I think." His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that echoed in the silence that followed.

You nodded but said nothing more. A heavy silence settled between you, not exactly uncomfortable, but not easy to ignore either. The tension was palpable, as if every breath you took fed a fire that neither of you dared acknowledge.

"You should get back at Dean," you blurted out suddenly, trying to dispel the pressure that seemed to hang in the air. You pretended to be distracted, playing with your nails, but you were fully aware of Sam's every move from the corner of your eye.

"What?" His eyebrow arched, but there was something more behind his reaction, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"You know... like, uh, Dean catching you doing that. It’d be funny," you murmured, feeling your shoulders tense as the words left your mouth.

"Do you think so?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was something in it—something that made your heartbeat feel stronger, louder. "I wouldn’t want to involve some random girl in something like that..."

"Oh, right, totally. It could traumatize her," you replied with obvious irony, trying to mask your own discomfort. Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "We could… do it. You and I… you know?"

The pause that followed was so thick that, for a second, you thought you’d said something completely out of line. Sam made a sound, like he had just let all the air leave his lungs at once.

"Us?" His voice sounded incredulous, but there was something deeper in it, something mingling with the surprise.

You coughed lightly, trying not to appear as affected as you felt. "Yeah, sure. We could pretend to do it, just to mess with him," you added quickly, your voice breaking slightly at the end.

"Oh," Sam said, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell what that "oh" meant. Was he surprised? Disappointed? But then he spoke again, and there was something different in his tone, something you hadn’t heard before. "Oh, right, I mean…"

He trailed off, and you glanced up, only to find him looking at you with a mix of uncertainty and something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second—so quick it was almost imperceptible—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

"Do you want to? Really?" he asked finally, his voice lower, almost a whisper.

"Pretend," you corrected, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "Just to mess with Dean, nothing more."

"Right," he murmured, though there was something in his tone that didn’t quite match the lightness of the situation. A small smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours, studying you like he was searching for something more in your proposal.

The silence returned, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged, as if the unsaid words between you filled the space with more intensity than any conversation ever could.

"It could be fun," he said finally, his voice rough, and there was something in his expression that made you wonder if he was really talking about the prank—or about something else entirely.

You laughed, though the sound came out more nervous than you intended. You were trying to hide how tense you were, but the knot in your stomach was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah, sure…” you muttered more to yourself, your voice barely audible. Sam’s gaze lingered on you, scanning your figure from head to toe, and that simple gesture made your legs feel like jelly.

“It has to look realistic,” he said suddenly, his tone slightly firmer, though his eyes held a mix of shyness and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

“Oh God—right,” you responded almost without thinking, your words rushed as you fought to keep your composure. Your hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, and though your cheeks were burning, you began unbuttoning it slowly. “Uh… like this?”

Sam averted his eyes for a moment, clearing his throat softly, as if that could somehow break the growing tension in the air. But when he looked back at you, his face was as red as yours.

“Uh—yeah, I guess… looks realistic to me,” he said finally, his voice lower, almost as if he were talking to himself. His gaze lingered briefly on your collarbones, dipping for a split second before meeting your eyes again.

Your voice wavered, though you tried to inject it with a touch of false confidence to mask the storm swirling inside you. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one without a shirt,” you said, feigning a casual tone as you rolled your eyes.

For a moment, you thought Sam hadn’t heard you, but then you saw him swallow hard, clearly affected. “Right—you’re right,” he muttered, his voice a little deeper than usual as he reached for the hem of his shirt.

Time seemed to slow as he pulled it off, revealing the tanned skin of his torso. You didn’t want to look, but it was impossible not to. The definition of his shoulders, the movement of his muscles… it all felt like too much to handle.

Damn.

He held the shirt in his hands for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it, before letting it fall to the floor. “Is this more fair?” he asked, with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as though he too was trying to ease the tension between you.

“I guess…” you murmured, though your voice barely came out. Your eyes met his, and the silence that followed was deafening. You could hear the sound of his breathing, slow and heavy, mixing with yours, and the space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” he said finally, his tone attempting to be light, but the nervousness was unmistakable.

“You said it,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to shield yourself from him or from the way he made you feel.

He took a step toward you, not too close, but enough that you could feel his presence even stronger. “We can stop if you want,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“No,” you said quickly—too quickly. You wanted to take it back, to say something else, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you tried to smile, though it barely counted as one. “I want to keep going.” Your tone sounded far more serious for something that was supposed to be just a joke. Sam seemed to notice, his eyes glinting under the motel’s dim yellow light.

The space between you remained charged, as if both of you were waiting for something neither dared to say out loud.

“God, this feels like the start of a bad porn,” you said abruptly, making Sam laugh.

He nodded, biting his lip as if to hold back a smile. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, moving cautiously, as though afraid you’d bolt at any moment. The way his figure loomed over you was almost intimidating, but in the part of you that wasn’t scared, it made you feel warm.

“Let’s get to the bed, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and syrupy.

“Bed?” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly.

“It has to be realistic.”

Realistic, of course. How could you forget?

“Yeah sure, let's go to bed.”

Sam lifted you with ease, as if you weighed far less than you actually did, yet he dropped you onto the bed with just a bit more force than necessary, making you let out a startled yelp.

“Ouch! That hurt,” you said through laughter, trying to sound offended, though the tone of your voice betrayed you.

Sam leaned over you, his arms on either side of your face, creating a bubble that seemed to isolate you both from the rest of the world.

“Sorry—” he murmured, though there was a smile tugging at his lips that he couldn’t quite hide.

You shook your head quickly, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s not funny! Don’t laugh,” you scolded him, but the sparkle in your eyes and the smile curling your lips completely undermined your words. You could feel the warmth of his arms so close to you, and the air between you seemed heavier, thicker.

Your laughter began to fade, giving way to a silence that wasn’t awkward but felt almost… comforting. You sighed, trying to catch your breath, but that was the moment you realized just how close his face was to yours. So close that you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your skin.

“Sammy…” you murmured, his name escaping your lips almost like a whisper. Your voice sounded breathless, as though the air itself was refusing to fill your lungs.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of an intensity that rooted you in place beneath his gaze. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and rough, sending your heartbeat into an uncontrollable rhythm.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, your hand moved hesitantly, brushing against the warm skin of his neck before resting at the back, applying just enough pressure to pull him even closer. Your breaths were shallow, your lips slightly parted. With a small nod, you finally whispered:

“It’s okay… I want to kiss you too.”

The words were like a spark igniting a flame, and before you could say anything else, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss wasn’t gentle or hesitant; it was fierce, as though all the tension that had built up between you had finally found its release.

The force of his kiss made your head sink into the pillow, and your hands instinctively moved to grip his shoulders, searching for something solid to hold onto as the intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm you. You could feel the weight of him, his warmth, and suddenly it was like the entire world had faded away, leaving only Sam, the pounding of your heart, and the sensation of his lips against yours.

The kiss deepened, his hands framing your face as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t keep you close. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and though you couldn’t see your own face, you were certain your cheeks were as red as his.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces still so close that there was barely any space between you. Sam didn’t speak at first, just gazed at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his eyes searching yours as if he needed confirmation that this was real.

You were the first to break the silence, though your voice came out shaky. “That… that was…”

“Incredible,” he finished for you, a small smile playing on his lips—both confident and a little uncertain at the same time. “But, uh… I don’t think Dean’s gonna buy this as just a joke.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, your laughter filling the room as Sam watched you with that soft expression that made your chest tighten all over again.

“Maybe it wasn’t just to mess with Dean,” you murmured, your voice quiet but firm, your eyes never leaving his.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a small smirk forming as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Maybe not,” he replied, his voice low and warm, before leaning in again, this time kissing you with a tenderness that completely unraveled you.

Your body moved before your mind, climbing into Sam's lap like your life depended on it.

He hummed softly, “You're sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes rolled as if the question had been out of place, but your expression broke with a tender smile.

“I am, Sammy, more than anything.”

He nodded softly, pulling you closer to his body and leaving wet kisses on your neck, giving a small bite that made you let out a muffled moan.

Their bodies were so close that there wasn’t even room for oxygen to pass between them. The way Sam moved was rough, deliberate, like a man with a singular goal in mind, his movements precise and calculated.

“Let me help you with this, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved toward your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that felt both electrifying and agonizingly slow.

His touch was so careful as he unbuttoned your jeans, like he was handling something sacred. It was a contradiction to the intensity in his gaze—a gaze so sharp it pinned you in place, leaving you no room to breathe, no room to think.

You knew those eyes. They were the same eyes he used when he was tracking a monster, honing in on his prey with unwavering focus. Without realizing it, you had become his target—a prey about to be devoured.

As he slid your jeans down, his movements were slow, deliberate, almost torturous. His lips followed the path his hands carved, planting soft, burning kisses along every inch of newly exposed skin. Each kiss was a promise, a tease, leading down to what felt like the edge of the world.

Your breathing was uneven, shallow, almost panicked, but not from fear—no, this was something else entirely. Your chest rose and fell erratically, anticipation building with every inch his lips traveled.

“I really want to take my time with you,” he said, his words breaking the silence. Each syllable was punctuated by a kiss against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But—” he kissed you again, his lips lingering. “I don’t know if I can hold back.” Another kiss, softer, yet it somehow left you trembling.

Oh, fuck.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips, betraying just how undone you were. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you tilted your head back, giving him more access to the curve of your waist, the line of your hip, anywhere he wanted to be.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, though your voice came out in a shaky whisper. “You can… God, you can do whatever you want to me.”

He froze for a second, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Are you sure?” His voice was quieter now, like he needed to hear you say it, really say it.

You let out an exasperated breath, barely managing to lift your head to glare at him, though the fire in your gaze was softened by the flush on your cheeks. “If you keep asking stupid questions, I swear I’ll punch you. Right in that ridiculously handsome face of yours.”

A laugh bubbled out of him, deep and genuine, the sound vibrating against your skin. His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your stomach. “Got it,” he said simply, his voice tinged with amusement.

And then his lips returned to your skin, softer now but no less deliberate. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns that made your entire body hum. The tension in the room was thick, almost unbearable, as if the air itself had been charged with electricity.

You felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, your heart pounding, your breaths coming in short gasps, but the way Sam looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered, like he couldn’t believe you were real—made you feel safe, even as you were unraveling beneath him.

The space between you seemed to shrink even further, his weight pressing into you just enough to ground you in the moment. And though the anticipation was overwhelming, there was a strange calm in knowing that whatever came next, it would be with him.

His long fingers moved the fabric of your panties to the side;

“Look at her…” he murmured, totally infatuated with the way your wet and gaping pussy called for him.

“Did you just—?” you started protesting. But you were quickly silenced when Sam inserted a finger inside you.

“God, she's sucking me so good” you whined. “She's a really good girl, just like you. Think I can put one more?” he asked you, without breaking eye contact.

“I dunno– yes?”

“Mhm.” he mumbled, “That's not an answer you know?” His voice was laced with a playful tone that made you a little angry, how was it possible that you were with your legs open and so needy and he was taking all the time in the world, it drove you crazy in the best way possible.

“Come on, Sammy.” you whined softly, starting to get desperate.

“I need to get you nice and wet baby, I'm sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

“No, I'm not.” he nodded, agreeing with you. The way he's spreading your wet pussy with his fingers, moving them back and forth, opening you up for him, is making you go crazy. If this was the foreplay, you couldn't even imagine the real play.

The weight on your chest never went away, and it only deepened when you felt Sam's hot tongue licking a line up and down your core.

“Oh– fuckin’” you moaned, covering your mouth with your knuckles, biting down on them.

Sam hummed, pleased with your reactions. His tongue went deeper, exploring your soft walls, your taste was making him see stars. He could live his whole life with his tongue deep inside you and die happily ever after. You were so sweet, fuck demon blood and fuck alcohol. Your fluids were his new drug.

You pushed your hips deeper into his mouth, moaning like you were on heat.

“Fuck, just like that Sammy– There! Fucking there!” His other hand gripped your hips and held you taut to his face as he ate you brutally, his lips working like a man who has been starving for months and finally tasted something worth dying for. As he extended his mouth wide to trace his tongue from your hole up to the soft bundle of pleasure, he dragged your clit into his mouth, scraped it with his teeth, and then released it with a light slapping sound.

“God, Sammy, please. I'm so close.” You left out a cry, arching your back into the pleasure as he continued his current rhythm, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from your hot, flushed body. Your hands moved to his hair, fisting it and raising his body until you were face to face.

Your fingers traveled to his pants, where you began to lower his zipper and slowly his underwear.

“I wanna ride you, can I?” you asked, sincerely. Waiting for an honest response as if you had asked something totally normal and not the most perverted words Sam ever heard you utter.

He groaned, as an answer.

“Of course you can, God.”

With a shaky hand, you line him at your entrance and reach down to gently grab him. He puts his hand on the small of your back and rubs calming circles there to reassure you.

“You got this. Slow.” You nodded, following his instructions, sinking an inch or two onto him while your brow furrows in concentration.

As you take more of Sam, his breathing turns ragged, hitching in his throat like he’s barely holding himself together. You push yourself further, testing your limits, and in one reckless move, you take the rest of him all at once. His reaction is immediate—a sharp, breathy squeak escapes his lips, completely unbidden. His fingers dig into your hips, grounding himself, his nails almost biting into your skin as if trying to steady the rush of sensation overtaking him.

“I said slow…” His voice is strained, low, barely a whisper, but the way he looks at you with that indignant, wide-eyed expression—one you know all too well—only makes you want to push him further, to see just how much more he can take.

“‘ed help,” you whimper in a low, broken voice, the sound more desperate than you intended.

His brows furrow as he stares at you, his lips parting slightly. “What?” he breathes, his voice teetering on the edge of control.

“I need help, Sammy.”

Those words seem to shatter something in him. The way he looks at you, it’s almost reverent, like you’re something divine in his lap. His hands tighten on your thighs, his grip so firm you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow—not that you mind. It feels like a mark, a claim, like he’s trying to ground himself in the reality of you.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and starts moving you. At first, his motions are precise, almost mechanical, lifting you up and down in a steady rhythm. But the control doesn’t last long. Within moments, his restraint begins to crack, his hands gripping harder, his breaths coming faster. His movements become rougher, more desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.

Before you can even process what’s happening, his arms wrap around your back in one swift, possessive motion, and you find yourself beneath him. His weight presses into you, the warmth of his body enveloping yours. His hips move without rhythm now, erratic, frantic, driven entirely by need. Every thrust feels like it’s meant to claim, to mark, to leave no part of you untouched.

The sounds spilling from him are pure desperation—low, guttural moans mixed with soft curses under his breath. You can feel how much he’s holding back, how he’s trying so hard not to lose himself entirely, but his resolve is slipping with every passing second, mentalizing all the laws of the penal code that he remembered to get a grip of himself.

“Sammy—” your voice trembles, breaking as the tension in your body coils tighter.

“I’m about to—”

He nods quickly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Me too,” he manages to say between ragged gasps, his words broken, his voice a strained whisper. “Where do you…?”

Each syllable is punctuated by a thrust, his control unraveling with every word.

“Inside,” you moan, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin meeting skin. “I want it inside.”

The words hit him like a freight train. His movements falter for a fraction of a second, his entire body tensing as if the weight of your request has shattered the last bit of restraint he was clinging to.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, his voice a low growl, his control slipping completely.

His hips snap forward one last time, and he’s gone. He buries himself as deeply as he can, his entire body trembling as he lets go, his moans mixing with yours.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the air between you thick with the remnants of everything that just happened. Sam’s forehead stays pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling slightly as he holds you close, as if letting go would mean losing the connection you just shared. He doesn’t say anything right away—neither of you do. There’s no need for words in this moment, no need to break the fragile, intimate silence that has settled over you both.

But when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost hesitant. “Are you okay?”

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his back. “Yeah,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Sam exhales, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief, and leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips.

The sweet moment is abruptly shattered by the unmistakable jingle of keys at the door. Your eyes widen in panic, and your hand instinctively flies up to cover your mouth, muffling a surprised gasp.

“Sammy—” you squeaked, your voice trembling with worry as the reality of the situation crashed down on you.

Sam’s response was to nod—calmly, almost too calmly. His body froze like a statue, as if you both were suddenly prey caught in the crosshairs of a wild, feral T-Rex. His eyes darted to the door, his lips pressed into a tight line, and you swore he even stopped breathing.

The doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate click, and the sound felt louder than it had any right to be in the otherwise silent room.

The door swung open.

“Hey, guess what? Your theory was actually—”

Dean stopped mid-sentence, his words halting like the Impala's doors slamming shut. He stood there in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him like his brain was buffering the information. His eyes flicked from Sam to you and then back again, taking in your flushed faces, disheveled hair, and the unmistakable tension lingering in the air.

“Oh, god dammit,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. Then, louder: “Fucking finally.”

You froze, your face heating to what had to be an inhuman degree, while Sam just groaned loudly, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Dean,” Sam started, his voice strained and muffled against your skin, “this… isn’t—”

Dean raised a hand to cut him off, a mix of exasperation and amusement written all over his face. “Don’t. Don’t even try, Sammy. I don’t need the details. I don’t want the details. Hell, I’m already regretting walking in here.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to salvage whatever scraps of dignity you had left, but all that came out was a small, embarrassed squeak.

Dean pointed at both of you, squinting like he was trying to physically burn the image of you two into his memory out of sheer spite. “You know what? I should’ve known. I’ve been calling this for years. YEARS, Sam.”

Sam finally lifted his head, glaring at his brother. “You haven’t been calling anything.”

Dean smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Oh, really? So me betting Jo twenty bucks that you two would eventually ‘work out all that unresolved tension’ doesn’t count?”

“Dean!” Sam barked, his ears turning bright red as he scrambled to sit up straighter.

“Twenty bucks,” Dean repeated with a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. “And let me tell you, that girl is gonna be real smug about being right.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “Oh my God, just kill me now.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Nah, don’t worry. You two lovebirds keep doing… whatever this is. I’ll just… go burn my eyes out now.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Oh, and Sam?”

“What?” Sam snapped, clearly at the end of his patience.

Dean winked. “You owe me clean sheets.”

The door closed behind him, and you stared at it in silence, your brain desperately trying to reboot. After a moment, you turned to Sam, your voice flat. “Clean sheets?”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even through your embarrassment. “Nope. Welcome to the rest of your life, Sammy.”

[softxsuki]

Han I have an urgent request if you don’t mind. Can I request baji, mitsuya, and chifuyu with a girlfriend who’s afraid to panic in front of them? I know that sound strange but I’ve been made fun of and/ or yelled at (which just made things 10x worse) for having panic attacks in front of friends and family. So now, I try to hold it in even if it hurts me physically, to the point I passed out recently :/ I mainly panic if my dad and step mom are fighting (I hate her) and loud noises like fireworks (been called a wimp during a festival before)

Baji, Mitsuya, and Chifuyu (Separate) With S/O Who's Afraid To Panic In Front of Them

Pairings: Baji x Fem!Reader, Mitsuya x Fem!Reader, Chifuyu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, feeling nervous, loud noises

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 710

Summary: In which you begin to panic around them, but try to hold it in so they don't notice because you're scared they might judge you

[A/N: Hello <3 so sorry you have to go through this. There's nothing wrong with panicking, it's a genuine response and you just happen to have it with loud noises and arguments. I hope this gives you some comfort <3]

Baji:

He’s a little loud so he’s the one that probably accidentally sets you off with one of his rage outbursts

You’d excuse yourself and he’d see you freaking out later but you try and brush him away

He refuses though and continues to follow you around until you finally stop, tears running down your face as your breathing picks up

The only thing you can manage to do it apologize profusely as you struggle to breathe, but he has his arms around you immediately

There’s no way he’d ever make fun of you for panicking in front of him

If anything once you’re calm he tries to figure out what set you off, and when you tell him it was his outburst, he’s the one apologizing

From that day forward he tries controlling is voice when you’re around–he can be explosive (not towards you but just in general) so he keeps himself in check when you’re present

Would 10000% send you into the next room while he fights anyone that has a hint of judgment on their face when you start to panic

Mitsuya:

You show up at his place one day after your parents fight and before you realize it,  you’re knocking on his door

You kinda regret it, not wanting to show up in front of him, a panicked mess with tears running down your face…but just as you’re about to turn away and leave, he opens the door and welcomes you with open arms as soon as he sees the state you’re in

He doesn’t need an explanation, his main priority is making you comfortable first and that means pulling you into his home and making you some tea or hot cocoa (whatever would help you calm down) while he holds you in his arms

He focuses on tracing small circles into your shoulders, attempting to calm you down from your sobbing as he whispers loving words into your ear

Even as you calm down, he still won’t pry into what caused you to have a panic attack, but if you start talking about it, he quietly listens

He knows the struggles you have at home and invites you to spend the night with him for as long as you need just so you can have some time away from that environment

You’re his family and he’d do anything to make you feel safe with your emotions around him

Chifuyu:

It’s New Years and there's a firework show Chifuyu wanted to see with you, claiming it would be romantic to watch fireworks together to welcome the new year in together

It was a fairly long show, but the first big bang instantly made you tense up, alerting Chifuyu who looks over in your direction

He could see the panic on your face and takes that as his sign to spring into action

You’re placed between his legs (you were sitting on the ground looking up at the fireworks) as he places his hands around your ears to help lessen the sound of the loud bangs, leaning into your back to press a kiss to the top of your head before he leans his chin on you

You’re able to relax into his arms and feel calmer now that the fireworks don’t sound as loud as they did before, but still being able to admire the beauty of them with your boyfriend

As the countdown approaches he spins you around and presses a kiss to your lips, his hands still over your ears as more fireworks erupt around you both and the new year finally arrives

He mouths an ‘i love you’ and takes your hand to lead you away from the crowd as it gets a little more busy and loud with everyone's excitement

He’s kinda excited that he got to act out a shoujo-esque moment with you and feels pretty good about it

Chifuyu makes a mental note of your panic to the loud fireworks and will probably bring it up another day so he can find out what other things make you panic–no judgment here at all, this man thinks you’re cute 24/7, but he’d rather know so he can avoid situations that may make you have a panic attack in the future!

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Posted: 11/12/2023

[ratsonastick]

Aggressive Love

Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

Clarisse has never been very good at showing her affection to her crushes, so when one day she crosses the line she starts to realize she needs to confess to a couple of things.

Warnings: None, boring plot

A/N - TAKING CHARACTER X READER REQUESTS!!!

Not long after you arrive at camp you meet the Ares girl. Clarisse La Rue was not ashamed to make her name known, but the way she did it did not sit well with you. 

Luke was walking you around showing you the ropes and trying to find your special thing, when she walked by. 

“Seems like you got yourself a new girl” Clarisse spoke with her arms crossed, stepping in front of the two of you with her siblings by her side. 

“Be nice she’s new” Luke spoke up and the girl rolled her eyes. 

For someone big on first introductions, Clarisse was not cutting it for you. Her attitude made you scrunch up your face in annoyance and that did not go unnoticed by anyone. 

Clarisse simply looked you up and down before walking away “She is not someone you want to get in a fight with” Luke spoke pushing you along. 

As the week passed you found yourself getting along alright. The Hermes cabin fits you well, even though it technically isn’t your cabin. And everyone seemed to like you. 

Except for Clarisse. 

Multiple people asked her why she hated you, and truthfully she didn’t even know why. You never even talked to her, but that face you gave her said it all (or at least that is what she kept telling herself) 

You are quiet, often found walking around, practicing archery, or helping your friends. You were not disrupting people’s peace, or getting into fights and starting arguments, like her. 

She told herself that the reason she didn’t like you was because of how you two are the complete opposites, and that she had a feeling being together would only end badly. 

So to make herself feel even better, she started getting into small arguments with you, just to prove to others and herself that she was right. 

The first time she did it, it was at the lake. She saw you sitting there alone, no one else around, and took the opportunity to approach you. 

She had a scowl on her face as she stood in front of you, blocking your view. 

“Having fun?” She asked, which only made you raise your gaze and shrug your shoulders “Yeah I guess why?” 

She scoffed, quickly thinking of a lie “Luke has been looking for you all over, he needed your help and you let him down. I was right about you.” She mumbled the last part, shaking her head and looking off. 

Hearing this, you became worried, not wanting to upset Luke anymore you got up and ran to find him. 

When you did he looked at you with a confused look, and you only then found out it was all a lie. 

The next couple of days, Clarisse would follow you around, throw things at you, and start small brawls which you would never really even participate in. 

Then finally one day you had enough. 

She had followed you into the woods, calling you names and once again bringing up the fact your godly parent hadn’t claimed you. 

You finally stopped and looked at her “Why do you hate me?” You asked in a fed-up voice which caught her a bit off guard. 

In any other argument you always sounded sarcastic, or like you were having fun with it. But this time she noticed that you genuinely seemed upset. Maybe it’s because she crossed a line, bringing up your godly parents. 

“Answer me.” Your gentle voice got her attention once more and her mouth opened but quickly shut. 

“I have done nothing to you and yet you hate me every day.” Clarisse furrowed her brows looking down at the ground. 

A feeling of regret started in her stomach, and she watched as you walked off. 

For the next week, she thought to herself, what she should do, or if she should even do anything. 

Finally, she decided to go to Luke. 

When she sat next to him and asked for his help, he let out a soft laugh, leaning back with his arms crossed. But then he noticed how serious she was, she didn't have a scowl on her face, or any sign of annoyance, just a straight expression. 

“She hates me” 

“Do you blame her?” Luke spoke, picking at his food and shoveling it in his mouth. Clarisse only frowned and looked as though she was about to leave. “If you aren't going to help me then I'm just gonna leave.” 

“Sit down” he mumbled and she did. 

“Why do you only now want to become her friend?” Luke asked with curiosity, his curly hair falling into his eyes and he stirred his peas around on his plate. 

“I don't know,” Clarisse answered, her voice sounding softer than it usually does. “You like her don't you.” He spoke up as he turned his gaze to her. Clarisse seemed startled by what he was saying, maybe she did like her, and was just … afraid of what the others would say. 

Luke didn't need an answer to know he was right. 2 years ago something just like this happened with her and a girl in the Hermes cabin, except Clarisse never did anything and the girl continued to think that she hated her. 

“If I were you, I'd maybe start by apologizing to the girl and giving her something she likes,” Luke stated as he started to stand up from the table. “Like what?” Clarisse mumbled, her reaction time a bit slow, which was strange for the Ares girl. 

“She told me she likes flowers, maybe go pick some.” 

Clarisse hated flowers. 

“Okay” 

That night Clarisse got one of the Demeter kids to give her some flowers, and she marched over to your cabin. 

She knew that each clear night you always sat outside, so seeing you sitting on the steps to your cabin was no surprise. 

Except the boy next to you was. 

She faltered for a moment, feeling even dorkier than before, her arms dropped to her side, the flowers slouching slightly. 

But she kept going, “Scram” she shouted at the boy with a scowl on her face. The boy sighed stood up and mumbled “Night Y/n” 

Clarisse took a moment to stare at you, how the moonlight made you so beautiful. 

Then she locked in and stuck out the flowers for you. “Here” she spoke again with that same scowl on her face, you nervously reached up to grab the flowers and gave her a small smile “Thanks … but why” 

Clarisse sat down next to you, at first your legs touched but she quickly moved over. “Because I've been a dick.” she sighed and looked over at you. 

She memorized how pretty you looked in her head. 

You let out a soft laugh and nodded your head “That's true … I’m surprised you are owning up to it.” 

“Don't get used to it” she chuckled, which made you turn to look at her. 

“A little birdie helped me realize something.” she spoke again after a moment of silence “Was it Luke?” you asked and she nodded her head “How do you know?” 

“Because if anyone else tried to help you realize something they'd end up in the infirmary and everyone in camp would know,” you responded with a smile. 

Clarisse nodded her head, gently biting onto her lip trying to suppress her smile. “Yeah I guess you’re right about that.” her head dipped down slightly as she looked at her hands. 

“Luke helped me realize how much of an idiot I was.” 

You smiled as you looked up from the flowers you had been trawling around in your hands. You hummed slightly and nodded your head in agreement to which she rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. 

“I like you.” she mumbled finally, “Do you?” she hummed in response, and for a moment you swear you could see a faint blush on her face. “I've been told I'm an aggressive lover, I guess to some people it might be hard to know it’s affection I'm trying to show and not …” 

“Hatred? Yeah, it would've probably been best to clarify that before throwing toilet paper at me.” You laughed softly which caused her to show more of a blush. 

After a few seconds you nudged her shoulder “You’re lucky you're so pretty … or maybe I wouldn’t forgive you.” 

She looked up at you with a small smile, your legs were touching slightly, but the two of you did not seem to care. 

A piece of her hair fell in front of her face, and you were quick to brush it away. 

If it was anyone else touching her, Clarisse was sure they'd already be dead, not only that she was sure that her father was probably groaning at how sappy they were behaving, but she couldn't care at the moment. 

You kept your gaze connected with hers, and it didn't take long for Clarisse to act on her desires and kiss you softly.

A/N - y'all I don't know what I just wrote, and I know I didn't represent our girl right!!

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd except the Agency never gets the tiger case.

Atsushi ends up in Yokohama and manages to steal the wallet of a passerby. There's not much but after being homeless for 2 weeks and starving, it's more than enough.

He gets some chazuke and leaves while some bandaged weirdo starts flirting with the waitress.

Atsushi knows he should get away, he can't stay in one place for too long. But he's tired and one bowl of chakuze is hardly enough to fill him for long. He curls up under the bridge and takes a quick nap.

The police detectives are too proud to ask for the Agencies help and go all out. When the tiger is seen in Yokohama, they manage to set a trap and detain it.

Things become a lot more complicated when day breaks and the man eating tiger turns into a scared boy. An ability user, and though many are suspicious Detective Minoura is not.

He sits by the cell of the kid, Atsushi and asks his questions. He learns Atsushi was kicked out of an orphanage 2 weeks ago, lining up with the tiger sightings.

And he has no idea he's the tiger, a conversation that was not fun to have. He knows Atsushi is genuine, that's he's scared. He'd love to let him go. But kids dangerous, too dangerous even if he's never hurt anyone.

It hurts his pride as a detective to even consider what he's about to do. But his pride should never come at the cost of innocent lives.

"So that's the story, if I was going by the book the kid would be arrested. Whether he knew it or not he caused a lot of terror, fear and a lot of property damage."

"And yet you aren't going by the book, you instead came here to me." Said Fukuzawa, taking a sip of his tea as he oberseved the police detective. "He doesn't deserve it. I couldn't get much out of him, but the kids been through hell. I'll take the punishment if it gets him out."

Fukuzawa nodded "we don't often meet eye to eye detective, but today I can say with certainty we do. You've done your job, now let us play our part."

Minoura nodded, relieved.

"Just... Please don't send Mr Super Genuis to deal with it." Fukuzawa chuckles, there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and Minoura sighed inwardly. He wanted to regret this but he couldn't.

Not even when Ranpo waltzed into the police precinct like he owned the place with a bright smile at getting to order the officers around.

His smile wavered slightly when he took in Atsushi. Minoura could see concern and anger flicker across his face before the smile returned and he told Atsushi he was breaking out of here.

The light returning to Atsushi's eyes told Minoura he'd made the right choice.

Atsushi was cautious. He stuck by Minoura the whole time as the paperwork was completed. Which was fair, he was maybe the only person who'd treated him kindly and Ranpo was a lot for anyone.

And yet, Minoura could tell Ranpo was putting on his best behaviour.

Seeing Atsushi's hesitation Minoura sat him down. "Hey, kid. These are... Friends of mine, they'll keep you safe." Seems like the kid wasn't used to hearing that and Minoura softened.

He scribbled down his number and handed it to him. "You ever get in trouble. You ever feel unsafe or afraid, you call me okay." Atsushi was surprised but took the written phone number like it was something precious.

He'd be okay, Minoura might not like the Agency but they were borderline feral in their protectivness over their loved ones. And hell, if anyone gave that kid trouble he'd make good on his promise.

[luveline]

hope my boyfriend's okay request.

hi!!! can I request hurt comfort or angst with spencer reid? maybe reader is just an ordinary girl, not that smart, not that pretty, or even a college drop out (like reader from honeybody) so she is kinda insecure when spencer being kind to her or even ask her on a date?

tysm♡

"Do you want to play?" Spencer asks. 

You're flushed before you open your mouth, startled by his sudden appearance and the new haircut he sports, curls locked back behind his neck. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit down." 

"No, I'm just asking if you want to play," he says, shaking the little briefcase he holds between his fingers to emphasise the rattle of the chess pieces inside. 

You've stolen his chess table again at the park. It's how you met, how you continue to meet —you want somewhere to put your book as you read and Spencer hardly ever makes you move, he just sort of sits with you until someone is in need of an opponent. 

"I don't know how. I don't have the smarts." 

Spencer sits down opposite you, placing the briefcase against the white and black chequered tiles. "Playing chess isn't about being smart. Being good at chess takes learned skill, though. It's like learning a language. Most people can say hello and goodbye if they try, but fluency comes with practice." He smiles at you like you're lovely and pretty and someone worth explaining this too, when you're worrying It's filtering out of your head like water through a sieve. Draining, draining, gone. 

"I don't even think I could remember hello and goodbye," you say. Your attempt to smile back at him is pitiful. 

His smile ebbs. "You're sure you don't want to play? I'd go easy for you." 

You curl the cover of your paperback in your hands, deliberating. Chess is one of those games that seems never-ending. It's full of manoeuvres and techniques, openings, closings, all these learned combinations, strategy like nothing you've ever been able to comprehend. You've never wanted to learn because you know you won't be good, even if you try. 

"Okay," you say quietly. "I really won't be any good." 

Spencer shrugs and begins to retrieve the small wooden chess pieces. "I usually win anyways."

"Have you ever, um, competed? Like the grandmaster things?" 

"No, but I had a friend I competed against for a long time. We played a lot of games. He was better at winning, despite my advantage." Spencer arranges your pieces with care. "Do you need me to teach you the opening moves?" 

He explains slowly. When you need help, he gives it, and he doesn't lord it over your head. It's a little shameful seeing the difference in your intellectual capabilities displayed so clearly, and the longer the game goes on the worse you feel, even though Spencer lets you win. 

"You'll get better every game," he says, returning taken pieces to the board.  

"You want to play again?" you ask. "Come on, Spencer, that can't have been fun for you." 

"Why wouldn't it be?" 

"Because I'm a useless opponent? And I don't really have anything else going for me, either, so it must be boring." It's an awkward thing to say, self-deprecating and stilted considering you and Spencer aren't more than acquaintances. You regret it as soon as you've said it but the frustration of the situation sticks around. "I don't understand why you waste your time with me." 

"It's not wasted if it's with you." Spencer looks genuinely confused, shapely eyebrows pinching. "Is that what you really think? I like spending time with you, I don't need you to be a chess expert to find you interesting." 

"But there's nothing interesting,," you insist. 

"Of course there is…" He straightens a chess piece, gaze split between you and the board. "You don't have to say something from a journal for it to be worth saying. You know, I've had a thousand conversations this year, some of them with professors or academic experts, but," —he puts his hand, now finished with the chess pieces, over his elbow, meeting your eyes shamelessly— "the one I replay the most is from a few weeks ago, when you told me why you like to read in the park." 

"That was just small talk," you say weakly, though it hadn't felt small to you, and now you know it wasn't small for him either. 

"Then I guess I love small talk," Spencer says. "Do you want to play again? I'll teach you some good opening moves if you tell me more about you. Deal?" 

You nod hurriedly, and fail to hide a beaming smile. "Teach me the best one." 

"That's what I meant," he says. 

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

39 and 55 for Tav/Astarion? OH AND I LOVE WANT IT ALL, YOUR WRITING IS IMPECCABLE ‼️<3

Prompt(s): leaning into the other’s side + tracing the lines on the other’s hand

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

There really was nothing like being pleasantly tipsy while in good company. Your party was in good spirits, the night was warm and, for once, danger was something that happened to other people. 

Eventually everyone had shuffled off to bed, leaving you and Astarion leaning against each other as the fire crackled on.  Your thoughts floated in front of you, swimming lazily in the air. Everything was just so lovely, especially the other hand in yours.  You couldn’t help but run your fingers across the lines, smiling as you made a study of every angle.  

“See something you like,” Astarion asked, amused.  He was decidedly more sober than you and appeared content to stay that way. 

You nodded idly. “You have beautiful hands. I bet you’d make a wonderful pianist.”

He gave a low laugh, shaking you slightly with the effort. 

“What?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, grinning. “You just might be the only person I know who could study a man’s hands and think only of their musical capabilities.” 

You stared confused, before a sinking rush of embarrassment flooded your stomach.

“Oh.”

He laughed again, turning just enough to kiss your temple. “Just teasing darling. Although I do love that color on your cheeks.”

“Serves me right for trying to give you a compliment,” you said, pouting. 

“Oh don’t be like that. I relish them all.” 

You huffed in childish annoyance, which only seemed to humor him. He then raised your entwined hands to the firelight, narrowing his gaze as if to examine them himself. 

“Do you think I’d actually be good?” he asked as a peace offering. 

You let out a sigh. There really was no use trying to stay annoyed with him. 

“Capability is there,” you allowed, “provided you have a very, very patient teacher.”

“Are you offering?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re interested.”

“Depends if you’re offering,” he repeated, with a sly smile. 

You didn’t answer right away, scrunching your face in exaggerated thought. 

“Maybe not piano,” you concluded. “There’s only so far the blind can lead the blind.”

He nodded in understanding. “How about the violin?”

Again, you considered before shaking your head. “Too difficult for a beginner. Lute isn’t bad though.”

He gave a dismissive scoff. “Overdone. The lyre, perhaps?”

“Bit on the nose don’t you think?”

His brows furrowed, his lips pursing in consideration. “A lyre and a player…Yes, I suppose you’re right. The jokes just write themselves. Flute?”

You shrugged. “Never learned actually.”

“Really?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “Pan pipes.”

“No.”

“Horns?”

“No to all wind instruments. I think it comes down to mechanics. I never saw the appeal of having to put my lips together and blow.” 

You glanced up at Astarion, keen to watch his reaction. 

He stared at you for a long second, a look of utter confusion on his face. His eyes then widened as a loud laugh barked from his lips. 

You broke that same instant, dissolving into giggles. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” he said, trying and failing to get a hold of himself. “Gods that was awful!” 

“But effective,” you pointed out, grinning. 

He gave another short laugh before shaking his head. “What have I gotten myself into with you?”

“Having regrets?”A wicked smirk flashed across his face. “Far from it, darling.” He then leaned in close, his eyes alight with conspiracy and mirth. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

Savanna Squad Presentation Night Headcanons/mini fic [1/3]

splitting this into three headcanon parts because my god its long

eat up :]

Part 1: Taylor & Logan Part 2: Ben & Tyler Part 3: Aiden & Ashlyn

Ashlyn's POV

So the question is: How did we get here? Simple answer really. Taylor. She was always the one to suggest these kinds of things, team building hang outs, though last time it was just us.

The rest of the boys had plans. Tyler had practice to attend, one of the late kinds, Ben and Logan had a project together due for bio in a day or two, and Aiden, for some reason, had a late dentist appointment (much to his dismay). Only Taylor could make it to the graveyard early. Initially, we were just meant to manage our resources, which was manageable with one person, but it was always easier with other people to bounce ideas off of. That's all it was meant to be, but Taylor had other ideas.

"Girls night!!" She had cheered, and we just hung out.

And I had fun.

But as Logan fights with his laptop to mirror on the T.V for the presenters, that being us, I can't help but feel like I'm going to regret this one. Especially with Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the background yelling about something that I don't want to know about, but will probably learn against my will.

Just as Taylor and Ben come downstairs with blankets and pillows, Logan's T.V finally projects the wallpaper of his laptop.

"It's set up, thank god," he sighs, with that last part being under his breathe. And as we set up in his living room, Ben dragging Aiden and Tyler from the kitchen, both with bags of snacks in their arms, and Taylor handing out blankets, we finally sit in our places.

The next question, however, is Who goes first?

Taylor Hernandez

Taylor goes first because she's the one who planned it and was the most excited about it. Aiden tried to go first, but it was collectively agreed that he would be going last for no reason other than to piss him off lmao

Anyways, we love a STEM girl (be still my own heart) so her presentation would be all about her tools and work for the mechanics club. She takes this club seriously, not only because it's good for networking, but because she genuinely finds it fun. I like to think that there are two levels to the club where one is just a standard club and the second level is a competition team, and she was shooting to be a part of the competition league (totally not projecting because I'm a robotics kid)

Her presentation is so well done. It's not only really well organized, but it is just so pretty. It's the type of presentation that teachers would drool over. Avid Canva user b/c it has a lot of customization options that she loves.

What's a toolbox tour without the actual toolbox that's just as decorated as her slideshow. And she takes care of it, too.

Her presentation is so fun and sets a fun tune for the night, and she manages to make this topic really engaging. She would have a little quiz at the end, too, where if one of the group gets a question correct, they get a piece of candy

shows off tools like she's filming a makeup tutorial, I saw this on tumblr, and it's just canon at this point. No criticisms are accepted because it just isn't possible.

Group's reaction

Ashlyn and Ben are the ones who pay the most attention to the presentation. Ashlyn also gets the most questions right at the end of the quiz.

Logan asks the most questions in between slides, but not in an annoying way. He does get a bit lost, though, considering just how many tools there are.

Tyler and Aiden are still bickering a bit. Aiden can't sit still for the life of himself, but he swears that he is listening. Tyler would say otherwise.

Aiden is, though, and he ends up getting Taylor a really nice tool set that she mentioned she wanted when presenting just because he can. He is her favorite for a few days. He absolutely would have a shit eating grin looking at Tyler to just say, "See, I was listening :D". Tyler would then say that he could go fuck himself /hj

Logan Fields

Logan is next. The laptop hates him, and it's old and shuts down multiple times in his presentation. The group then had to watch this man fight with a busted 4-year-old laptop and lose several times. Have you ever seen your parents fight with a printer the night before you have a school project due? It's like that, and the rest are concerned.

He is an astrology bitch, and I will take no criticisms. But like, not in the way that it controls his life, he would not be caught dead saying that the stars told him to do something, like not let him eat alfredo on Sunday or something like that. He's more interested in the concept itself since the idea of zodiacs have existed for so long. Its his comfort research topic.

Absolutely went HAM on researching each and every one of their birth charts. Ask him to show you his notes, and he would not show you. Why??? because he took up an entire notepad (it's one of the smaller ones but still).

"Logan's so innocent" "Logan's so sweet" "My boy can do no wro-" NO!!!! THAT MOTHERFUCKER WILL READ YOU TO FILTH AND I STAND BY THIS. ITS LIKE HE LOOKED YOUR SOUL, UP AND DOWN, AND EXPOSED IT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE (something tells me Tyler gets it the worse. idk why it just feels right)!!! If he feels like something doesn't fit one of the people in the group he is clear about it

"Here is Gemini, a social butterfly. Here is Ashlyn. A Gemini. I love Ashlyn, but like a year ago I have actually seen you jump a fence to avoid a group of people who go to our high school without thinking, and I would say that needs an intervention but you'd also avoid it by jumping a fence." "..."

The presentation itself is long as hell. Like he goes in depth about everything that he talks about, and if you interrupt him, he will shoot you with a spray bottle. Did I mention there's a group spray bottle? Guess why they have one.

Somehow, he is still only the second longest presentation.

Group's Reaction

Taylor is his biggest hypeman. I feel like she'd also enjoy astrology a bit, too, though she's more of a casual fan. She is also one of the few people who is free from Logan's jabs.

Ben is also free from his jabs because he helped him with the laptop, which, thank god, because Logan was about to lose it. I don't think he really believes in astrology. The most he knows is his sun sign on the surface level. He is invested, though.

Don't think Ash is very interested in astrology either, and at some points in his presentation, he just loses her attention.

Tyler gets sprayed at least twice with the spray bottle because he gets defensive. Surprisingly, I do think he would be somewhat interested and knowledgeable about his star signs at least, mainly because he had to deal with Taylor when she went through an astrology phase (let me tell you it was brutal).

Aiden is also interested and engaged in the presentation, but maybe a little too much. What I mean is that he interrupts at points and is the reason why the spray bottle exists. Logan is flattered, but istg Aiden if you interrupt this man one more time...

By the end of the two presentations, the group is in pretty high spirits and having a good time, despite the fact that two of them are a bit wet.

Logan's laptop, however, is not, and just as they were setting up Ben's powerpoint, it decides that it was a good time to perform a mandatory update and restarts.

Absolute silence.

You could hear a pin drop.

And all eyes go to Logan.

"..."

"..."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!"

Long story short, the presentations have to be postponed for around an hour and forty-eight minutes (maybe you never know with computers), and Logan is taking a walk.

[thezombieprostitute]

You teach a home econ class for adults. Things like sewing, some cooking, how to make soap. There's one student that sticks out among the bunch. He's the only that comes alone. And he stares. A lot.

Who is it?

Warnings: Ransom kinda being an ass. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

A/N2: Bit of a different take this chapter. We're not getting Bubble's perspective!

Teaching home economics for adults wasn't always pretty. A lot of the people you taught had been through the worst in life and your class was one of their hopes for getting a handle on things. Recent divorcees who needed to learn how to cook. Foster kids recently pushed out of the system needing the skills their foster parents had never taught them. Abuse victims finally out from under the thumbs of their abusers.

So when a relatively young, well dressed, broody man started attending your class, your first thought was that he was recently divorced. He was one of your more unusual cases. He always dressed better than everyone else, never interacted with others outside of occasional bored sighs and eye rolls. He never even partook in the in-class work, preferring, instead, to stare at you as you demonstrated how to cook, how to sew, how to replace batteries in the smoke alarms, and the like. At least your other students would take notes, if nothing else.

But, he's the one who's paying the fee for the class so you can't complain if he doesn't actually do anything but attend.

One day, though, he brings someone with him. A lady who looks to be about his own age, dressed rather cutesy. She's all smiles and you find it hard to not smile yourself. The two of them look quite the pair! You really never thought you'd see such a perfect example of the grumpy/sunshine trope for yourself.

As you begin the class your delighted that he brought her along. Her smiles and chuckles at your bad jokes help encourage you to keep telling them, much to Ransom's obvious chagrin. Part of you relishes when you make your students roll their eyes, but you genuinely appreciate when your humor is appreciated.

When you begin the cooking demonstration, you go back and forth between focusing on what you're doing, so you don't get hurt, and watching your students, so they don't get hurt. Your ears are at alert for any and all telltale signs of trouble. And that's how you hear Ransom's companion encouraging, sometimes whining at him, to help her with the recipe.

After you've finished the demonstration you start making the rounds, observing the students, answering questions, giving advice. The last table is Ransom and his friend's. She's playfully badgering him but he's stuck in his eye-rolling ways. Though you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. It's probably the only thing keeping you from asking her to stop her antics.

"How are things going here?" you interrupt.

"Oh, hello!" She holds out her hand and introduces herself. "Ransom told me this class is how he spends his nights so I had to sign up! I really like your presentation style!"

"Well thank you for that," you smile. Turning to Ransom, you ask, "how are you holding up?"

He grumbles a little but, as is his usual, he doesn't give you an actual answer.

His friend gently elbows his ribs and pouts, "you don't have to be so rude. You didn't even want to help me cook."

You see a flash of regret? Pain? In Ransom's eyes and decide to step in. "When I was growing up, I would get made fun of if I did anything less than perfectly. It wasn't that the people around me could do it perfectly while I couldn't, but I was still the one who got made fun of. As such, I never tried anything new in front of people. I'd always wait until I was alone before trying anything."

The look Ransom gives you tells you that you've hit the nail on the head.

His companion's eyes go wide and she turns to him, "oh, I'm so sorry, Ransom! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!"

"I know," he grumbles.

"I'm so sorry," she continues. "Can I please hug you as an apology?"

Ransom sighs, a little melodramatically, "if it'll make you feel better, okay."

The squeal she lets out gets everyone's attention and you're quick to gesture that everything's okay. At the same time, you hear an "oomph" from Ransom as his friend has basically glomp-hugged him.

"Thank you, Ransom!"

You see a flicker of something flash in his eyes as he whispers, "not a problem, Bubbles."

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

@thiquefunlover63

[trixy812]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧｡⋆ pt 3

{Nanami Kento x reader}

ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader, fluff, reader mistakenly believes that getting drunk will make them have more fun, Nanami IS THE standard!, friends to lovers

ִֶָ࣪☾. Synopsis: It was inevitable. Kento Nanami and you are becoming a couple.

ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: Part 3 is HERE! :)! I've read several times on Nanami x reader fanfics that people would like to read fanfics on how nanami x y/n become a couple. I hope you like my version of it. If you are not happy with this, I can recommend you a similar fic because high school Nanami is everything (here). extra: i want to thank @totallygyomeiswife again :D She is helping me a lot with her opinion and i really value what she has to say!

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Omakes

Reader meets Gojo

First time

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

Something about you had caught Nanami’s attention, though he refused to admit it for a long time.

He vividly remembered the conversation with Haibara the day the two of them met you.

“You know, Nanami,” Haibara had said that afternoon, his usual carefree smile lighting up his face as they rested “I think I could fall for her.”

Nanami gave him a look of mild surprise and skepticism. “What are you talking about?”

“About Y/N,” Haibara replied without hesitation. “She’s incredible—kind, genuine. There’s just something about the way she carries herself... like she genuinely cares about people. I think I’m going to ask her out.”

Nanami rolled his eyes slightly. “We just wrapped up a mission that involved her. Don’t be impulsive. Give it some time; you could end up in trouble.”

Haibara thought for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. No rush anyway—I already got her number.”

Nanami said nothing, but something about that moment had made an odd knot form in his chest. At the time, he hadn’t understood it, but now he knew it was an early sign of what he was beginning to feel for you. That memory was bittersweet—equal parts fondness and regret.

From what rested of the first year of high school, your connection with Nanami became a constant in your life. Despite his frequent missions that sometimes kept him away for weeks, he always made time to reply to your messages, help you with homework, or just listen to your stories.

Yet, an invisible wall stood between you—a line neither of you dared cross.

This distance led you to believe Nanami would never see you the way you saw him. To him, you were just a friend, someone to look after but nothing more. Being young, you decided not to linger, waiting for something that might never happen.

So, you began dating others.

At first, it was casual: a boy from the art club, an older student you met at a school party. Over time, these dates became more frequent and more intimate. There were kisses and fleeting touches that made you feel wanted. But deep down, none of these boys could make you feel what Nanami did with just a glance.

Nanami knew you were seeing other people. Sometimes, when he came over after one of your dates, you carried the faint trace of a cologne that wasn’t yours, or your smile held a guilty edge he never mentioned. You didn’t share details, and he never asked. But his silence wasn’t indifference.

Inside, every time he saw you return from a date, a hollow ache settled in his chest—a feeling he couldn’t name. It was more than jealousy; it was frustration with himself. He wasn’t sure what he felt for you and didn’t want to burden you with something so uncertain and selfish. So, he let you be.

One evening, while the two of you worked in your room, you pulled out your phone to answer a message. Nanami, seated across from you, noticed the faint smile on your face.

“Is it one of your admirers?” he asked, his tone neutral, not looking up from his notebook.

You tensed slightly but hid it with a light laugh. “Something like that. He invited me to the movies this weekend.”

Nanami didn’t respond immediately, but his grip on his pencil tightened. Finally, he murmured, “I hope you have a good time.”

Your smile faded. You looked at him, searching for any trace of emotion in his expression, but found none. His apparent indifference hurt more than you cared to admit.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, turning back to your phone. But that night, after he left, you cried.

“She can do what she wants,” Nanami told himself over and over. But every time he pictured you with someone else, the ache in his chest grew heavier.

By your senior year, your bond was undeniable. You’d quit volunteering at the hospital after sophomore year to fully embrace your final year of school, which meant attending every party possible. Naturally, Nanami accompanied you to most of them—not because he enjoyed the loud music or endless drinks (he didn’t), but because he knew you loved letting loose. And someone had to make sure you got home safely.

“Kento, you’re the best!” you slurred one night, leaning on his arm for balance.

“You say that every time you’re drunk,” he replied with a sigh, adjusting his hold to keep you steady.

“But I mean it!” you insisted, grinning up at him. “What would I do without you? You’re like my rock. My stoic rock.”

Despite himself, Nanami smiled slightly, quickly averting his gaze to hide it. “Let’s get you home.”

“Kento, you don’t have to come to these things if you don’t want to.”

“I’m here because I want to make sure you’re safe,” he always replied, his tone a blend of seriousness and tenderness that made you smile even in your most scattered state.

Your parents adored Nanami from the first day they met him.

When he walked you home for the first time, your mother couldn’t help but ask, “Are you from a sorcerer clan?”

Nanami shook his head, his usual seriousness intact. “No, I’m the first in my family. My mother works in an office, and my father is a tradesman.”

“That’s admirable,” your father said, shaking his hand. “You have a bright future ahead of you.”

Though the words were meant as a compliment, they weighed on Nanami. A bright future? For who? Each mission he undertook pulled him further from that ideal. He saw how students were treated as pawns, disposable tools for the higher-ups. That same indifference had led to Haibara’s death.

A few weeks before graduation, you attended another party. You drank more than usual and laughed with a group of guys. Nanami, as always, was there, watching over you. But something in him was different that night.

He saw you laughing, your face glowing under the party lights, and something inside him broke. He couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up any longer.

When one of the guys tried to get too close, Nanami stepped in, placing himself between the two of you.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly, his voice calm but commanding.

“Ah, the loyal puppy following Y/N everywhere,” the guy sneered, annoyed.

“More like a Doberman,” Nanami retorted without missing a beat.

You stared at him, stunned. “Kento, what are you doing?” you asked, more confused than angry.

He gently took your wrist and led you out of the venue, ignoring the curious stares. Once you were in a quieter spot, he stopped but didn’t let go of your hand.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice softer now.

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly before meeting your gaze.

“I can’t keep pretending I don’t care,” he said, his voice low but filled with emotion. “Every time you’re with someone else, it feels like I’m being torn apart. Every time you smile, I want to be the reason for that smile. I don’t know when it started, but I know I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Your heart raced, the words you’d waited so long to hear finally spoken.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Because... I wasn’t sure if I deserved to feel this way about you.” He paused, shaking his head. “But none of that matters now. What matters is that I want to be with you. And if it means fighting off every idiot who tries to get close to you, I’ll do it. But I hope... I hope you’ll give me a chance before it comes to that.”

Without hesitation, you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into a kiss full of urgency and passion.

“It’s always been you, Kento,” you murmured against his lips. “Always.”

The next morning, you woke up with a hazy memory of the night before. There were flashes of laughter, lights, and something about Nanami. But you weren’t sure.

“Did I say something? No... it must’ve been a dream,” you thought, shaking your head as you checked your phone.

Meanwhile, Nanami sat in his room, staring at his phone, drafting a message:

How are you feeling? Everything okay?

You replied a few moments later:

I’m fine, though I think I had a weird dream... I feel a bit embarrassed, hahahaha. Thanks for taking care of me again, Kento.

Nanami stared at your response, his heart sinking slightly. “She thinks it was a dream...”

He knew he had to confess again—properly this time.

The problem was, Nanami didn’t know how to be romantic. His experience with grand displays of affection was nonexistent, and he felt unusually insecure. He had done some research (painfully awkward Google searches late at night), and everything seemed to suggest that flowers were a classic and meaningful way to confess. A large bouquet, carefully chosen, seemed the perfect balance of tradition and sincerity.

But then came the second problem: money.

The small allowance Nanami received as a student sorcerer barely covered his basic needs. He couldn’t afford an expensive bouquet. He considered saving up for a few weeks, but the thought of delaying this any longer felt unbearable. For once, he wanted to put his heart before his practicality.

That was when he did something he never thought he’d do. He turned to Gojo Satoru for help.

Nanami found Gojo lounging in the courtyard at Jujutsu High, a pair of sunglasses lazily perched on his nose as he sipped what appeared to be bubble tea. Gojo’s carefree attitude already irritated Nanami on the best of days, but this time, he had to swallow his pride. This wasn’t about him; it was about you.

“Gojo,” Nanami began in a dry, professional tone.

Gojo glanced up, a grin spreading across his face as he sensed an opportunity for amusement.

“Nanamin! To what do I owe the honor? Have you finally decided we’re going to be best friends forever?”

Nanami ignored the jab, his expression impassive. “I need to borrow some money.”

Gojo nearly choked on his drink, sputtering as he leaned forward.

“Wait, what? You? Kento Nanami asking me for a loan? This is too good to be true.”

“Don’t make a scene,” Nanami replied, already regretting his decision. “I’ll pay you back—with interest.”

“This is priceless,” Gojo said, still grinning. “What could possibly drive you to ask me for money? Wait, wait, let me guess… it’s for a girl, isn’t it?”

Nanami’s jaw tightened, and the faintest blush dusted his cheeks. His silence was all the confirmation Gojo needed.

“I knew it!” Gojo exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. “Who is she? Someone from Jujutsu High? I’ve never seen—”

“Are you going to lend me the money or not?” Nanami snapped, his tone sharp.

Gojo waved a hand to calm him, his grin unwavering. “Relax, relax. Of course, I’ll lend you the money. But you owe me more than just interest—you owe me a story. I want to hear every detail of how this turns out. Got it?”

Nanami gritted his teeth but nodded. Anything to end this conversation.

With Gojo’s loan in hand, Nanami visited a high-end florist in Tokyo. The experience was entirely foreign to him. The shop was filled with vibrant colors and delicate fragrances, every arrangement more extravagant than the last. A kind florist approached him, and after an awkward conversation, Nanami chose a bouquet he felt represented you: sunflowers.

As he handed over the money, he felt a pang of frustration. He had never cared about money, but this moment made him acutely aware of his limitations. Depending on someone like Gojo for something so personal left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Is this what my life will be?” he thought as he left the shop, bouquet in hand. “Fighting curses, being treated like a tool, and struggling to afford the simplest gestures for the people I care about?”

He thought of Haibara, of the countless students used and discarded by the higher-ups. He thought of his own dissatisfaction with the sorcerer world and wondered, not for the first time, if there might be another path for him. One where he could build a stable, fulfilling life without having to rely on anyone else.

With the bouquet finally in hand, Nanami went to find you after school. You were startled to see him waiting with an enormous bouquet of sunflowers.

“Kento… what is this?” you asked, blushing immediately.

Nanami looked at you intently, his expression serious but full of determination.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he said simply.

Your eyes widened, and the blush on your cheeks deepened.

“W-what wasn’t a dream?”

He stepped closer, holding the bouquet firmly.

“What we said to each other on Saturday. And what happened after. It wasn’t a dream. I love you, Y/N, and I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit.”

You were speechless, staring at the flowers and then at him. A small smile spread across your lips as you took the bouquet.

“It’s always been you, Kento,” you repeated, tears shining in your eyes.

Nanami relaxed slightly, though he was still the same reserved boy as ever.

“I hope this is enough,” he murmured. “I’m not great with words, but I wanted you to know for sure.”

“It’s perfect,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again, this time fully aware of what you were doing.

"Does this mean you're done going out with those other guys?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, though you could tell there was an underlying sincerity in his question.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "No need to be jealous, Kento. None of them ever stood a chance."

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. "Good."

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Omakes

Reader meets Gojo

First time

-

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃