#I can’t tag u properly sorry

[teddybearty]

Number 6! Sixth batch of attacks!! 🧸💜

Characters belongs to:

@st4rryshy , HalfAwakeArtist + artyy_bee (IG / AF), @doodlecrzymeg , @darlinghousehold , HibbySloth (Twitter / AF), @p0yoo , Fallbo (Twitch / AF), @impyarts , HowToMelt (Art Fight) & Polaroid-of-Kohaku (Art Fight)

[crossbackpoke-check]

do u ever speak too soon & immediately regret it.

[prettyboykatsuki]

call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)

✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.

anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.

✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.

you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.

Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  

And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  

It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  

He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 

His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  

It's not because you don't like him, alright? 

You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 

( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  

You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  

 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  

You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 

"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  

"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  

He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  

“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 

In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  

Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 

Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  

 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  

Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 

You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  

"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  

He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  

"Why?"   

"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  

Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  

"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  

He hums. "So you hit her?" 

You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  

You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  

"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  

“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  

The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 

He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  

You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 

Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  

"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  

You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 

You still give him your name. 

"What a pretty name," 

When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  

And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  

That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 

You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 

Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  

But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  

It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  

Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 

It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  

You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 

You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  

So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  

You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  

Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  

He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  

Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  

You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  

When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  

In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  

For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  

That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  

To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  

He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 

(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  

It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  

"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  

Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  

"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  

He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  

Weird.  

"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  

He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  

"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  

You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  

He blinks, surprised.  

"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  

"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  

His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  

You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  

He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  

You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  

"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  

You stare at him in disbelief.  

"Wha—huh?"  

He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  

"I like you."  

"No the hell you don't."  

He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  

"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 

"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  

Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  

But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 

You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  

"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 

 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  

And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 

What the fuck was that?)  

For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  

The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  

Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  

Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  

Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  

Except. Except.  

Umemiya just won't give up.  

He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  

He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  

You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  

But honestly? 

You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  

But you're not going to to let him sway you.  

You've got principles, after all.  

__  

After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  

It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  

Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  

You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  

Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 

"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  

"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 

"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  

"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  

The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  

“Such a blatant lie.”  

Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  

Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  

"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  

"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  

"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  

You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 

"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  

You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  

Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  

"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  

You sigh deeply. 

"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 

"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  

You elbow Kotoha lightly.  

"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  

You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  

Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 

__  

You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  

Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  

Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  

(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  

After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  

You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  

Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  

You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  

Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 

The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  

The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  

Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  

"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 

You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  

"Go die."  

"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  

"Shut up. I'll kill you."  

As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  

"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  

He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  

"What the hell are you two talking about?" 

'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 

"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 

"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  

"What's happening at work?" 

Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  

"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  

Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  

A good question you hadn't considered asking.  

You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  

"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  

You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  

"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  

"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  

You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  

Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  

"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  

You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  

Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 

You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  

"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  

Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  

You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 

Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  

You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  

"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  

"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  

He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  

You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  

The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  

You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  

__  

For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  

No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 

But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  

It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  

He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  

It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  

At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  

"Oi. What's up with you?"  

"Hm?"  

You cross your arms over your chest.  

"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  

He stares at you.  

"You noticed?"  

"How could I not notice?"  

"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  

"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  

He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  

He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 

"Do you know that I like you?"  

Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  

This is what he wants to talk about? 

He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  

"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 

Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  

"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 

"But do you get it?"  

Your frown deepens.  

"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  

He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  

Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  

"...Never said that." 

He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 

You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  

One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  

Damn it.  

"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya frowns at you.  

"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  

You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  

After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  

"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  

He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  

"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 

"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  

He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 

"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  

You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  

"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  

A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  

You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 

You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 

"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  

He pauses before frowning.   

"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  

You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 

The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  

"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  

He looks like he's in shock. 

"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  

You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 

Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  

"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  

"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  

"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  

You aren’t sure how to answer him.  

"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  

It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  

"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  

"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 

You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  

He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  

"What about him?"  

"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  

Your eyes go wide.  

"I—it wasn't serious."  

"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  

You feel frozen in place by his admission. 

Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  

His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  

Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  

"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 

You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  

"Why me? And why now?"  

Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 

"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  

Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  

"Stop saying stuff like that."  

Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  

"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  

"I love you." He repeats.  

You squirm.  

"Stop it,"  

"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 

Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  

"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  

"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  

"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 

His drops down to a whisper.  

“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  

You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 

"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  

You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  

A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  

"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  

He laughs wetly.  

"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  

He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  

Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  

He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  

You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  

He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  

It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 

He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  

There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   

"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 

You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 

"Yeah."  

__ 

You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  

His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  

You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   

"I love you,"  

You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  

"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  

You pause.  

"...Sleep?" 

"Hm?"  

You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  

"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  

"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  

"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  

You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  

"Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  

"Stop staring."  

He doesn't.  

"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  

"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  

He smiles in satisfaction.  

"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  

You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  

"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  

He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  

"Don't say it." You hiss.  

"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  

He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  

"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  

You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  

"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  

You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  

"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  

He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  

"Yes, ma'am."  

__ 

Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  

You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  

Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  

But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  

He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  

Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  

You shiver.  

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  

You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  

He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  

You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  

He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  

"The hell?"  

"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  

"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  

Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  

It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  

He smiles at you when you pull away.  

"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  

Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  

He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  

"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  

He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  

"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  

“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  

"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  

"What do you want then?"  

"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  

You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  

He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  

You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  

You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  

"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  

You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  

He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  

He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  

You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 

More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  

"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  

"You're making me feel good." He hums.  

Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 

"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  

You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  

The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  

You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  

"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  

"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  

You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  

He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  

"I'm just..."  

He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  

Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  

He smiles.  

"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  

You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  

Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  

"You're so beautiful to me."  

He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  

He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 

"Don't hold your voice, please?"  

"It's embarrassing,"  

"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  

You frown but nod ultimately.  

Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  

This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  

No one's ever touched you like this, though.  

His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  

"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  

The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  

You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  

"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  

He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  

Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  

(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  

Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  

But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  

Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  

"Fuck."  

He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  

"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  

He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  

And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  

Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  

"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  

"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  

"It's enough already," 

He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  

You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  

He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  

There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  

He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  

Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  

The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  

"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  

You cover your face with your arm.  

"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  

"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  

He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  

There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  

Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   

You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 

An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  

A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  

Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  

Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  

Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  

By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  

"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  

He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  

You pause. Umemiya waits.  

"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  

"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  

"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  

"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 

The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  

"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  

"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  

"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 

He smiles. "As you wish,"  

Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  

You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  

"Stop looking so much,"  

He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  

Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  

You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 

You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  

Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 

"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  

He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  

You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  

It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  

"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  

Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  

You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  

He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  

You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  

He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  

Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  

"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  

You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  

He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  

He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  

"Take 'em off. Please?"  

Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  

"Your dick is so big,"  

He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  

"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  

He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  

"You gonna fuck me?"  

"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  

"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   

"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  

You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  

His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  

You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 

Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  

"Why are you—mmgh," 

He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  

"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  

Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  

“Hajime—“ 

He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  

“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  

Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  

“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  

His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  

“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 

Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  

“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  

Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  

A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  

You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  

He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  

“Too much?”  

Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  

“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  

He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  

“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  

He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  

You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  

“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 

“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  

“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  

“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  

You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  

“Did you want something else? Water?”  

“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 

He pulls back to look at you seriously.  

“Do you know what you’re asking?”  

You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  

“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  

You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  

“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  

He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 

“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  

He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  

You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  

You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  

Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  

Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  

His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  

“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  

“Different?”  

“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  

You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  

“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  

You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  

“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  

You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  

“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  

You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 

As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  

Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   

“Yeah?”  

You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 

When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  

“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 

“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  

You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  

Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  

“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  

You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  

Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  

He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  

“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  

He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  

A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 

“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  

Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  

Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  

You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  

“You gonna cum soon?”  

“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  

“’s okay to cum in me,”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  

You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  

You don’t really hate it, though.  

“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  

“Love you too,”  

__ 

The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  

You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  

Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  

“No fucking way,”  

You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  

You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  

Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 

Fuck.  

“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  

Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  

You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  

Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  

“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  

“In your dreams.”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  

He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 

“Good morning,”  

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  

“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  

You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  

“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  

You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  

“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  

You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  

With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  

“She left already?”  

“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   

Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  

“You already said that.”  

“You didn’t say it back,”  

You frown. “G’morning,”  

He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  

“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  

“You’re stupid.”  

“And you love me,”  

You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.

“I guess so.”  

[ratskinsuit]

Could u do a pegging lucifer fic? And the (dom gn) reader is being extra mean to him and just degrading the shit outa him, and he’s just kinda crying begging for praise

Fucked Dumb

A/N: feels like forever since I wrote a smut fic lol. Times flying byyyy, sorry i haven’t been good with request recently I’ve just been working on my Ocs (plz I have so many I need to stop) and school blah blah blah. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags: Also consent is not states here but it was stated before you two do have a system, Aftercare is slightly mentioned, smut, pegging, nsfw, begging, brain fuck, sub Lucifer x reader, lil bit of blood play? (I think- idk reader licks up some blood from his chin)

MDNI

——————————————————————— P-lease agh- ha ah.. ngh darling PLE-ase…” Lucifer sobs, tears streaming down his face as you slam into him. His breath heavy.

You have him on the edge of the bed, legs spread as your strap pounds in and out of him at a fast pace.

All day he was begging for you to touch him, knowing you were busy with some important work. He kept persisting, sitting in your lap, “hugging” you from behind as he sits against you. Walking around in stupidly tight clothes.

You breaking point however was at the end of the day, when he was testing you all through a work call you had. Running his fingers up and down your thighs, holding your hand, slowly inching it towards his hard on.

So as soon as the call ended you slammed him against the mattress, his face going red with surprise, having not expected it.

You tied his hands together and left him there to go get your strap. A couple minutes later your fucking his brains out while he’s sobs on hour dick. Bringing you to now.

“Oh no no no. You w-anted to be a little fucker all day, practically humping me every time you got close enough. So now take it bitch.” You hiss, a particularly hard thrust earning a wail from the ruined man under you.

Lucifer’s hands are tied together above his head with a pretty red ribbon. It’s tight enough to keep him from wiggling but not enough to cut his circulation.

His hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead and jutting out everywhere. Sweat drips down his face. His eyes are rolled back, twitching and blown out. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, going from relaxed to tense every other second.

His mouth is wide open, your almost convinced a fly will go into it. Drool is running down his chin, flying everywhere as moans and begging tumble out. What he’s begging for; I don’t think even he knows.

“Pl- darlin- agh hng…AH hA! Fu-uck Hng…” Lucifer lets out a wail as you hit a particular spot inside of him, causing the sheets he’s gripping to rip.

He’s sobbing, as you continue to mash up his insides. He shudders, letting out an in-human sound as he orgasms for the 5th time this night.

“That’s five fu-cking times this night whore… hah… fuck, god that’s just sad. I’ve only come once? Needy bitch.” You tease as he writhes and shakes the bed, his orgasm washing over him.

He’s already came so much tonight, but still has more, coating the two of you.

He sputters, begging for a break as he can’t make out sentences. You watch as the king of hell moans and cries beneath you.

The sheets are ripped up under his hands, eyes completely rolled back. You see a trail of blood leaking from his mouth, and lean forward, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.

You lean to him, forcing him into a hot kiss, that he tries to reciprocate but all he does is tangle his tongue with yours and drool all over himself.

You let out a laugh as you speed up, Lucifer choking on his own spit under you. “Fu-ck your so dumb-fucked you can’t even kiss you properly.

As quick as it had ended he tenses and cums again on his own chest.

“Dar- AH fu-hng… ple- I can- n’t hm.. m’be… been s’ch a goo-agh- good boy… plea-SE” He pleads at you, desperate for some relief.

You decide to take pity on him, and finish yourself off. You know he can take degradation but sometimes when he’s so far into subspace he gets really upset if you do it go much.

“Du-ont worry honey, your doing amazing, give me one m-more okay darling? M-..I wanna c-cum to, is that okay pr..etty boy?” You coo at him, and he nods frantically as you speed up,

“can- m’ make.. you cu- OH.. plea- you c-cu..m”he tries speaking but fails and you just shush him, untying his hands quickly. As soon as the are free he grabs your hand with one and squeezes tightly, the other going to your waist.

He’s babbling by this point, words and curses stringing together in noncence sentences, while you praise and coo at him. “Doing g-great my love, handsome boy. Go-nana make me come so hard…since your doing so-o amazingly..” he whimpers, reaching for your face and you lean and kiss him.

Him, having just cum, and you having been edging up to it. The two of you reach your orgasm quickly. You are locked in a kiss right as it hits you both like a freight trains.

Lucifer falls back, twitching and shuddering violently with his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You shake with your and collapse on top of him as you relish in the aftershocks.

After a couple of seconds, you sit up and pull out of him, him whincing a bit.

You throw the strap off to the side and go to the edge of the bed by Lucifer head. You push his hair out of his face and soothe his burning skin.

“You did so great my love, are you okay?” You ask, Lucifer gives a little nod. “Mhm’ I… agh fuck, can’t hng… feel my legs…” you giggle and crawl in next to him.

Even though the two of you were very sweaty, you held him as he closed his eyes, the two of you embraced together. “M…love you..” he murmurs, and you give him a kiss.

———————————————————————

A/N: As said in my other post I will be busy for a while after this, not going on hiatus just slow updates. I just wanted to get this out because I had it halfway done. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[arieslost]

certified haters | ln4

summary: you and your boyfriend hate valentine’s day.

word count: 634

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

if there was one thing you hated more than the stupid groundhog that could hardly ever predict the season changes properly, it was the so-called “holiday” that followed a couple weeks later: valentine’s day.

when you started dating lando, you made it perfectly clear that you refused to celebrate such a dumb, performative day. you’d expected more pushback considering how clingy and doting he was before the two of you even made anything official, but to your surprise he’d launched into a whole rant about how much he hated it too.

“i don’t need a specific day on the calendar to show you how much i love you,” he’d concluded, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into his arms. “if you don’t know that every day of your life, then i’m doing something wrong.”

that was why, while other couples were being sappy and having breakfast in bed or something, you were more than happy to be freezing your ass off at silverstone as your boyfriend prepared to get behind the wheel of his 2024 car for the first time.

you honestly couldn’t imagine doing anything else— lando had seemed a bit hesitant when he asked you to come, like he thought you’d say no, and watching his eyes light up when you enthusiastically agreed was better than any valentine’s day gift.

you rubbed your hands up and down your arms to try and bring some heat back to your skin. lando, always so attentive, noticed immediately.

“are you cold?” he asked, and didn’t even wait for your response before he was putting his helmet down and shrugging out of his mclaren jacket. “put this on. c’mon.”

“no, lan, it’s fine—” your argument was pointless as he gently put your one arm, and then the other, into the sleeves of his jacket before zipping it up.

“can’t have my valentine freezing on me,” he could hardly get through his sentence without giggling, and it morphed into true laughter when you smacked him with an oversized sleeve. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

“get out of my sight, norris.” you rolled your eyes, reaching for his helmet and shoving it into his chest.

“ready?” one of the engineers asked as he handed you a headset, and lando gave a thumbs up in return, flipping his helmet over as he walked toward the car.

“oh, wait!” you called out before he could put it on. “i almost forgot.”

he already knew what you were going to do before you did it. it was tradition; you always did this before he got in the car, no matter what. he closed his eyes and puckered his lips cutely in anticipation as you ran into his arms and kissed him.

“good luck, have fun, don’t die,” you said, smiling as he mouthed the words along with you.

it was what you had said before the first race he brought you to. you’d tried to come up with something profound, but you were so nervous that those six words came out instead. now you say them every time.

“i love you,” he pressed another kiss to your lips, and then your forehead. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

he donned his helmet and climbed into the car as you put the headset on, stepping back so the engineers could do the final preparations on the car.

right before he drove out onto the track, he stuck his arm out of the car, formed a sign with his hand, and waved.

i love you! you knew he couldn’t turn around to look, but you signed it back.

you and lando hated valentine’s day, but the two of you were just as sappy with each other every other day of the year— why should today be any different?

note: this was fueled by my own hatred of this silly little day and i wrote this on mobile (thus the lowercase) in maybe two hours. the title ended up being more ironic than i thought it would be; i wish lando was my valentine and this got fluffier than i’d planned. hope u enjoyed!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @architect-2015 @maddie-bell @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @noreri @bwormie @alltoomaples @maximoffsimp @peargaslyyy @alicedebate @esserenorris

[awoogayanderes]

FRACTURED BOUNDARIES

➪ pairing : kiyoomi sakusa x reader

➪ request : “can i request a sakusa x reader (whatever its pre time skip or timeskip) inspired by these lines from good luck babe! ? “You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth And guess I'm the fool" "I don't wanna call it off But you don't wanna call it love"” - @hohoshiumi

➪ sypnosis : situationships are never fun but they’re even worse with him

➪ other notes : i tried my best to stay as loyal to the lyrics, ALSO THIS IS LIKE MY SECOND ACTUAL HAIKYUU FIC ?? also, to the person who requested this, it wouldn’t allow me to tag you properly i’m so sorry

you weren’t exactly avoiding sakusa, you just stayed clear of anywhere he would be ! so now, there’s a slight annoyance, you knew you should have waited in the library before you went home. your…friend is waiting at the school gates for you. maybe you ignored his texts for a few days, but he’s done the same to you. but this was a first. before you can u-turn your way out of there, sakusa sees you.

“i’ll walk you home,” he says, voice a bit muffled through his mask. you hesitantly nod, letting him walk beside you. “shouldn’t you be at practice ?” he mumbles something. you wonder if komori is stalling for him. the two of you walk in silence for a few minutes, feet pattering on the sidewalk. “you’ve been odd, you haven’t been responding to my texts.” sakusa speaks up. “neither do you,” you rebuttal.

“i’m busy,” he says. “so am i,” you can feel the tension build up. “why are you being like this ?” sakusa asks, his brows furrowing. “i’m not your girlfriend, so don’t act like my boyfriend,” you respond. the rage you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks are finally seeping out. about a month ago, you asked sakusa what your relationship was with him, he simply responded with “friends,” it destroyed you.

“is this what your tantrum is about ?” sakusa asks you. you stop in your tracks, you were only a few blocks away from your house. “tantrum ? that’s what you want to call it ?” you scoff. he also stops walking, turning around to look at you. “let’s just go back to how we used to be, okay ?” he sighs. “you mean when you were leading me on ?” “i never led you on, we’re just friends !” he says, frustrated.

that’s when you snap. “you told me you loved me months ago,” you say. “that was months ago,” he argues. “so you just don’t anymore ?” your voice breaks. “that’s not what i mean,” he says exasperated. “you can say we’re nothing, but you know the truth kiyoomi, am i just just a fucking fool to you ?” you ask the curly haired boy in front of you. you wonder if anyone is watching this from their windows.

sakusa stays quiet, he doesn’t know what to say. “i don’t want to call it off but you don’t want to take me seriously,” you whisper. “i just…i can’t,” he simply says, you know what he means by that. you can only nod at his words, what else was there to say. “i don’t want you to be apart of my life anymore, pretend i don’t exist, don’t text me or call me again,” you say, walking away from sakusa.

he thinks of chasing after you but his legs don’t move towards you. instead, he walks back to school, he needed to get back to practice, komori probably got chewed out by the team as he stalled for his cousin. you and sakusa were strangers. he misses seeing you at his games, misses when he would stay over at your house, misses when you treated him differently than others. he just misses you a lot.

[uplatterme]

aether and kaveh look like disney princesses i wanna fuck the shit out of

there is no need for elaboration

-🪸

—okay. you’ve got me hooked. rapunzel!aether in part 2! (tba)

—cinderella!kaveh/royalty!reader, sub!bottom!kaveh/top!dom!reader, amab!reader (referred with they/them pronouns) | cinderella au, semi-public sex, quickie, clothed sex, cum as lube, porn with actual plot (don’t let the tags fool u, this is so fucking soft)

You completely regret hosting this party.

It was something that your advisor had tasked you to do. Host a party, find a suitable partner, get an heir so the kingdom has someone to depend on, blah blah blah.

It’s not like you were even that old. 

You sigh, a cigarette on your lips as you lay your back on the wall of the balcony. So many folks festering you, for that chance that you’ll somehow hand them their crown. 

Your head aches at the number of conversations you have had to endure just to be polite, the amount of times you’ve had to shake off someone from hugging your arm without your consent.

“Oh, fuck!” You hear someone yelp.

And while the owner of this voice sounds overly anxious, you can’t help but want to hear it again, especially with the polite wording that the attendees have used to butter you up. someone swearing right in front of you catches your interest.

Hands reach the bottom of the balcony, and someone lifts their body up to get on the platform.

“Oh god, why is the entrance so crowded?” The person says.

Your ears perk up at that.

“Well, their highness did host it. it’s been a while since such an event has happened.” You answer.

The figure flinches, turning their attention to you. 

Your mouth gapes as you finally see who that voice belonged to. Everything about him is enticing that you can’t help but to drown in his gaze. 

He’s properly dressed as well, although not anything overwhelming to the eyes.

Now, which family had been hiding such a prince from you?

“Ah sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here.” He quickly apologizes. His cheeks flush, not expecting someone to catch him climbing up a balcony.

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” You offer, craving more of him.

He shakes his head, much to your disappointment.

“I’m actually here for something else.” he says.

You hum. “Also aiming for the heart of their highness, then?”

Take it, unknown prince.

“What?! N-No, not at all!” He screams in reply. “I mean, I'd be flattered if their highness even finds me a bit intriguing.”

“Have you met them?” You ask.

“Oh. I haven’t really got the time for that.” He answers, although he seems to be in a melancholy thought when he does.

Still, you breathe at his beauty. You think you can stare at him for your whole life.

You quickly try to change the topic.

“So, what are you here for?”

He points behind you.

You turn your head back but what faces you is nothing but the empty hallway.

“Sorry?” You question.

“The castle.”

His answers just keep surprising you.

He blushes, rubbing his arm as he paces around the small space of the balcony.

“You’re interested in the architecture?”

As soon as you mention that, he brightens up. “Yes! From what I've seen, it’s alright.”

You feel offended. It is your castle, one for which you’ve decided most of the structure. He seems to notice his mistake as he panics.

“But don’t tell anyone that! Especially not their highness…”

You grin.

“Perhaps, the inside can change your mind?” 

“Inside? I don’t think we’re allowed—”

“If we don’t get caught, it’s fine, right?” 

“Yes, but—”

You grab the stranger’s hand and lead him inside, he stumbles in after you, the warmth in your hand startling him.

You bring him into different rooms, hoping that one of them will at least suit his taste.

“This?”

“It’s a bit cramped, the furniture set is going against the wallpaper.”

You roll your eyes, he’s so damn picky. That, or you’re just really bad at interior decorating.

Still, you smile at every single word he says. Being royalty, you have no damn clue what he’s saying. But with that pretty voice of his, you could listen to it for hours.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? What if their highness were merely shown bad choices by their architects?” You say, hoping that wouldn’t risk the random attendee persona that you’re playing at the moment.

“If that’s true, they should’ve fired those architects.” He states confidently.

You laugh. “And what, hire you instead?”

He purses his lips, he didn’t expect you to get that so easily.

He stays silent.

“Do you want to?” You ask.

“Get hired?” The look on his face is so innocent like he can’t even believe that you’re asking such a thing. As if the answer is painfully obvious.

You shake your head. 

“To build a castle.”

He stares at you dumbfounded. His eyes glimmer as he grabs your hands and does so aggressively. You don’t mind even a second of it.

“Are you fucking crazy? T-That’s like my dream!” He admits. He’s smiling widely, his face nothing but only a few centimeters away from you.

He starts babbling about the materials he’ll make it with, the different types of rooms and decorations he’ll add. He’s so damn fascinating, you don’t even care about the speech that you’re supposed to give by midnight.

It’s like he has planned this for a long time. Everything he says is so intricate. His hands move as if he’s drawing it, he’s a bit shaky but it’s obvious that it’s from excitement. To your amazement, the way he describes everything makes it seem as if you’re actually in that castle in your head.

Once he realizes how much he’s talking, he stutters an apology.

“Sorry! It’s just that no one has ever asked me about this, I mean at home I—”

“Okay. I’ll give that to you.” You reply genuinely, your eyes are focused on his soft lips.

His chest heaves and his golden eyelashes flutter with grace…just looking at you.

“You know that’s impossible. I’m not even a professionally licensed architect.” 

“It’s not.”

You’ll make it happen, even if your advisor goes against it. It doesn’t matter if you have to demolish the entire castle you’re in right now.

“It is! You’re just flattering me, I get it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, but you don’t have to promise and lie to about such things.”

“I mean it.” You say it so sternly that he almost starts believing it.

He sighs deeply. “Going to this party is already a dream come true. There was this little green fairy with white hair, I—”

The words slip out of your mouth, cutting off whatever stupid things he has to say.

“Meeting you is a dream come true.” 

The next few moments are a blur. Your hands are all over the unknown stranger. Fuck, it’s as if you’ve been hit with a love spell. You want to keep kissing his mouth, tell him that he has nothing to worry about when you’re with him. That you’ll do anything he asks.

Your prince whines and the sound has you going insane. 

You want more. 

You’ve gotten so addicted easily that your mind is insatiable. 

It doesn’t matter that the room is left unlocked, no one is going to keep your hands off him. 

“Hah—God!” He breathes enticingly. His mind is so hazy, so weak at how his heart is pounding each second.

You take off his coat, the clothing echoes as it falls down on the floor. His blouse is silk and you swear you can see the way his chest is lined underneath the white cloth.

Your fingers rubbed his hardened nipples and his entire body shivers. He holds onto your shoulders for support, the aroused moan that escapes his throat is just enough for you to keep doing it, and so you do.

“W-Wait! I-I’ll—” He pushes you for a moment, to take a breath as he slowly composes himself.

You watch him impatiently. You can see how his cock twitches from his tight pants, the wet spot in the center, and his dick dripping from precum as the white liquid seeps through it.

You keep your hands inside your pocket. Despite how your pants are perfectly fitted for you, your cock is begging for warmth, specifically from the blonde stranger in front of you.

He then nods.

“I’m okay…we can continue.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any—”

“I can take it. It’s fine.” He says as if he’s in a hurry. You’re not sure if it's just because he’s needy or if it’s something else.

You still indulge in his wants, however.

You’ll have to make do with his own fluids although you really don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt him.

Your fingers steadily prepare his walls and you’re trying your best to not be greedy. His needs first, more than anything.

He’s so damn tight, not that you need to worry much as the sounds he’s making are signaling everything but pain.

He’s so soft and so perfect that you’re starting to get jealous of even your own fingers.

“Are you..?”

He nods, and desire fills his eyes. It looks like you’re not the only one getting impatient.

When you finally feel his insides with your cock, the expectations you had were completely blown out of the water. Your hands find their way to his waist and it’s perfect.

The first thrust is enough to send you to heaven. 

“Keep going.” He pleads.

You continue to pound into him, enjoying how each one brings out a soft mewl from the blonde.

His cock is dripping white on the floor, and the carpet gets soaked. You know you need to get that replaced but instead, you want to keep the stain there, as if some kind of trophy.

And while you stir up his insides, a familiar noise bothers your ears.

You don’t let it even phase you, enjoying the pleasure that’s eating you up.

However, your prince decides otherwise.

“H-Hold on! What was that—”

“Just the clock. You don’t need to bother yourself with it.”

A groan escapes your throat, feeling how he tenses up all of the sudden.

“Is it twelve?” He asks.

“N-No, but it’s close. Five more minutes.”

“I need to go.” He says.

No way was he leaving you like this.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, but I—” His words are cut off by his moaning.

The way you fill him up has him salivating. You didn’t even move but god, his walls clenching on you are betraying his choices right now.

“T-Three minutes.” He whimpers out.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers feel up his cock, stroking it up and down while still continuing to pound ruthlessly. He continues to scream out, his mind too overwhelmed from getting his ass and cock ravaged at the same time.

His legs quiver and you have to hold him still. You’re both close and you’ll make sure to have him finish in time at least.

“F-Fuck!” He sobs.

And the worries in your head disappear, cumming inside his walls as he splatters more onto the carpet.

You sigh, your chest thumping as you stand there with your clothes a mess.

He quickly slides off you, trembling but still hastily moving as if the adrenaline has gotten into his head.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll try to get in contact with you again. I swear!” He stammers out before fixing his clothes, nearing the doorway.

“Don’t go through the balcony! There’s an exit to the right of this room!” You say, helping him out despite your wishes to keep him here.

“Thanks!” He shouts back.

You swipe the sweat on your forehead, zipping your pants back on.

The clock chimes as it signals it’s midnight. What a fucking way to end the night.

You hear rushed steps from the hallway.

Your attention turns to the door. Did he come back?

Your disappointment is immeasurable when you find out it’s just your advisor.

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere, you’re late for your speech—Oh my god, what did you—No, who did you?!” She looks disappointed.

You look down. Ah, right.

Who?

Oh fuck, you never got his name. 

“I didn’t ask. Oh no.” The realization slowly sets in.

“Excuse me?!” Your advisor answers offended by your words. You can tell how stressed she’s been, her teal hair in a mess.

“I’ll be right there. Let me clean up first, Ma’am”

“I’ll get everyone distracted. Jeez, young ones these days!” She says before rushing away.

The urge to punch the wall in front of you right now is high.

You look at the floor and notice the coat on the floor.

It smells just like him.

You lay your head on the cold table, mind filled with everything but your duties. The only thing that’s engraved in there is nothing but the sweet prince you met a while ago.

But no matter how many times you’ve gone through portraits of different royal families, even going through the nobles, you’re not met with a match.

“Your Highness. I see you’ve been distracted again.”

“Madame Faruzan, I cannot do this anymore.” You tell her wholeheartedly.

Your advisor rolls her eyes.

“Right after I caught you and that whole mess, you should be working.”

“He’s a great guy! He’s skilled with his hands.” You argue with her.

“I do not need to hear what he did with you.”

“That’s not what I meant! He’s an architect, he’s good! I’ve heard how he works, I’ll vouch for him.”

“You’re biased. Something that a ruler should not have. I told you this when you were younger.” She warns you.

It seems that she won’t hear you out no matter how hard you try. 

“I really cannot focus.” You say. 

It’s the truth. You’ve been sleeping with that coat for weeks, along with other things. As if it’s actually him to begin with.

“If he’s such a great architect, then why don’t you work with that?”

An idea enters your head.

“Ma’am, you’re a genius.”

“Of course.” She says confidently with a smile.

She shakes the compliment off, lord knows she's the smartest person you’ve ever met.

“So? What’s your verdict?” She asks.

A day after, a letter was sent out to the people of your kingdom.

Needless to say, everyone was freaking out.

“Goodness, that’s a big deal. Isn’t it?”

“Right! That’s a big opportunity.” 

The entire market was in an uproar as Kaveh shops for his family. He couldn’t care any, especially not with the consequences he faced from being caught out late in the night. They never knew that he went to the party, but he’s sure his snarky scholar of a step-sibling knows.

“Oh, Kaveh.” A friendly face greets him.

“Miss Nilou.”

She smiles at him, 

“Are you participating?”

The confused face of Kaveh is enough for Nilou to shake the soul out of him.

“You have to! Their highness is currently looking for an architect to turn the whole castle into something new!” 

Kaveh’s eyes widen. “…Actually?”

“Yes! Oh, you have to hurry! It’s only up till today!” She brings it up, and Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can.

It’s almost like a dream come true.

First, that little green fairy that gave him the opportunity to attend the party in the first place. Then, that person he met at the said party who he flushes at every time he thinks of them. And now, this?

He almost tears the whole place down from searching for his plates. 

Kaveh compiles it in an envelope. He feels rewarded as if everything that he’s gone through has finally led up to something.

“Fuck! Where is it?” He’s missing a folder. 

Technically, what he’s giving is already more of what was asked for. Still, the perfectionist in him cannot stand to not have everything in its place, especially not with the opportunity that he was presented with.

A knock comes from his door and he flinches, his family cannot know about this. They’ll get rid of it again.

“It’s just me.” He relaxes, rolling his eyes before turning back.

“Asshole,” Kaveh says.

“After I saw your folder in the living room and kept it? Alright, I’ll guess I’ll throw it out.” Al-Haitham replies sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I kept it for a reason. I wouldn’t throw it out now.” Kaveh forcefully takes out the folder and shoves it into his envelope.

He wants to say thanks, but his pride is too high for that.

“Be home before your curfew, I won’t cover for you.” Al-Haitham says.

Kaveh knows that he will despite the annoying tone that he’s using.

He runs to the front of the castle as fast as he can, his legs were not made out for this kind of journey. Still, he won’t give up.

He reaches the gates luckily, just an hour before the deadline.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

“We got a lot of submissions…and most of them are barely even considered actual pieces. I mean, look at this. Who would turn a castle into a teapot?” Faruzan complains, searching through the different envelopes.

You take a look at the amount and you couldn’t help but agree more. It’s absurd.

“Everyone who’s a licensed architect can be thrown away.” You ordered.

“Did I hear that correctly?” She eyes you as if you’re crazy.

You are.

“It’s fine, I have faith in him.”

After that, the submissions are lessened quite easily. While there were some that had fit up to the standards, they weren’t simply what you were looking for.

You remember every single thing he said, if you could just match that up with an envelope then you’ll be fine.

“We have two left.” Your advisor states.

Two names in front of you. One was named ‘Albedo’ and the other one was named ‘Kaveh’. You hesitate to open, the anxiety that he never heard of this competition or that you have sorted away his piece is eating you.

Your advisor notices this and gives one of her very rare encouragement.

“You said you have faith.”

You sigh, trying to calm down.

“I do.” You say it just loud enough to believe it.

You and Faruzan both take one, opening them at the same time.

Your hands shake as you do. 

This ‘Albedo’ is good. God, it’s gorgeous. Though what he’s sent out are more artistic than they are architectural, you can see the vision that he’s presenting, it’s something you think your mystery man would find great fun studying.

You literally cannot do this.

You only had one chance left.

It’s this or nothing.

Faruzan holds your hand while you go through his envelope. It’s breathtaking, it’s almost as what you imagined that time Kaveh was talking to you were right here, laid out perfectly.

“Kaveh.” The name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

Finally.

You dress up in a nice outfit, sitting on the carriage’s seat, trying your best not to scream. You could have gotten the wrong person, but you’re sure that this Kaveh is him.

You’re not accompanied by anyone except your coachman. You’ve asked him “if you’re there yet” about five times.

You bury your face in your hands. This is fine, you’ll be fine.

You almost smack your head face-first on the seat when the carriage comes to a stop without any warning.

The door opens for you.

You hear the gossiping of the people around you and you give them that perfect smile you’ve been taught to do even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.

There’s a person by the door. One who’s certainly not the one you met at the party.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Your highness.” He replies, bowing his head.

There is an awkward silence between the two of you. It is clear that neither of you likes talking.

“I’m looking for—”

“Kaveh, I presume?”

You nod nervously.

He opens the door and shouts, an annoyed response can be heard from the outside.

Everything’s fine, you rule this kingdom. If it’s another person, you can just bomb the whole place away!

The joking in your head does not make it any better.

“I swear this better be important, I was busy—” He stops talking as soon as he meets with your eyes.

There’s a flushed look on his face that matches yours.

“Oh. It’s you…”

There come the gasps from around you.

“He did not just call them that.”

“How disrespectful!”

“Right?!”

You cough, unsure how to state why you’re here. You just hand him the contract.

He shakes as he reads it. 

“What…?”

“I told you that I’ll build you a castle.” You remind him.

Kaveh remembers and you can see everything click right in his face. He’s very expressive, not that you were a stranger to that.

“Y-Your Highness.” He stutters.

You wonder if it’s appropriate to go down on your knee.

Fuck it. You can have Madame Faruzan reprimand you later.

The people watching scream in shock as you go down on one knee.

“Now that we have that out of the way…Will you do me the honor of ruling by your side?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say—

“What?!” Kaveh yells at you. 

“G-Get up! Oh my god, your highness!” He tells you.

“I’m not standing up unless you say yes.”

The man you talked to previously whistles before heading inside the house. Kaveh glares at him, he did just not leave him in a situation like this.

“I’m serious, Kaveh.”

“You’re crazy.” He says.

“I know.” You look up to him hopefully.

He’s so red, it’s almost painful to look at. Not that you were any different from his case.

“I—Alright! Yes! So stand up already, your cape is getting dirty and everyone’s looking so—”

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

[vcnillazelda]

hey bubb!!

if your requests are open, could u write (if ur comfortable with) something about ghost x shy/civillian f!reader?

i hope that ur having a wonderful day and thank you!!x :)

my lovely

simon riley x reader

summary: simon comes home to you.

tags: civilian! reader, shy! reader, established relationship, fluff, marriage, domestic fluff bc i crave it didnjfjsdo

a/n: this is adorable gocjdidkkd. we’re getting to the point where we have to reuse gifs so i’m sorry about that 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

“my love?” a familiar voice calls. you perk up, putting your phone down. “simon?” you call back, and surely enough your husband peers into your shared bedroom. you smile brightly, getting up hug him. his warm arms wrap around your waist, scooping you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as the two of you finally reunite after six grinding months of not seeing each other. “i missed you so much..!” you tell him, squeezing him tightly. simon chuckles softly, kissing your temple as he carries you back to bed. “i missed you too, love.” he replies, setting you down as he changes from his work clothes. “do you mind if i shower?” he asks, soft brown eyes looking at you and you feel yourself falling in love all over again. “of course not, go shower. you deserve it.” you smile, and simon nods, giving you a parting kiss before heading to the bathroom with clean clothes.

he takes 15 minutes, immediately coming back to you after drying his hair properly. “come here..!” you smile, opening your arms to him. simon climbs onto the bed, kissing your lips sweetly. “i missed you so much.” you mumble, cusping his cheeks. “i missed you too, baby. i’m happy to be home again.” he sighs, weight pressing onto you. you hum softly, burying your face into his neck as simon lays atop of you. “how’s your six months been?” he asks, gently stroking your sides before rolling onto his side of the bed. you follow him, curling into his chest. “lonely.” you pout, it’s quite dramatic but you have to admit you were very lonely when simon was away. “m’sorry, baby.” he mumbles, kissing your pouty lips. “it’s okay. it’s your job, and i promised to always wait for you.” you smile, kissing over his jaw. “yet, i have to admit… recently i’ve been worried… you’ve been away for a long time simon, and without much communication. i’m scared i’ll get that news..” you whisper. simon grasps your chin, pulling you to look at him. “i would never leave you.” he declares, and you sigh. “you can’t control that.” you mutter, yet simon doubles down. “i will never abandon you, baby. never.” he states, kissing your lips.

“simon…” you frown, burying your head into his shoulder as his hand rubs your hip slowly. “don’t go all shy. i haven’t seen you in months.” he chuckles, kissing your neck. you hum softly, staying snuggled into his body. “i’m afraid of losing you, simon.” you repeat your worries to him, and simon sighs. “i wont die on you. you keep me going.” he replies, kissing your forehead. “i’ve had nightmares about it… i wish you could stay here longer.” you sigh, closing your eyes. “i’ll see what i can do… i want to be here with you.” simon responds, hand slipping from your hip and rubbing his back gently. “you don’t have to…” you mutter, shrinking into a small ball in your lovers grasp. “i want to. i want you to be happy.” simon practically purrs, kissing your forehead. “i love you…” you whisper, face ablaze with how flustered you had grown. simon let’s out a soft laugh. “we’ve been married for four years and you’re still so shy.” he muses, kissing your lips. you break into a soft smile, kissing him again. “get some rest, love.” simon mutters, lips gently pressing to your forehead.

“only if you’ll stay with me.” you respond, hands slipping under his shirt to massage the taunt muscles in his back. “i promised to always stay with you the day we got married.” he whispers as you relax further against him, fingers rubbing deep circles over his aching back. he hums softly. “i love you simon.” you mutter, kissing his slightly exposed collarbone gently. “i love you more, love.”

[heart4reigns]

SICK DAYS, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, fainting, pure fluff, domestic-work life!! pet names <3

tags: sick day for u!!!! roman being a teddy bear wuwuwuw, kinda short (sorry)!!

summary: it’s okay to take a break

MAYBE the weather wasn’t really that friendly to you. it was winter and you weren’t prepared for it. or maybe, it was because of that cup of coffee you shared with paul while he had the flu last week. you woke up with a sore throat. you cursed yourself for not bringing water to your room and now you have to get up. as you sat up from your position, you heard your boyfriend’s snores. he was fast asleep and you wished that you were also like him. the creak from your bed woke him up. “baby.” he mumbled. “go back to sleep, i’m just getting water.” you ruffled his hair, telling him to go back to sleep. “okay.”

you turned on the lights, grabbing a glass from the counter. your head was throbbing like crazy. you didn't even realize that you dropped the glass on the floor, waking up your boyfriend. "baby? are you okay?" you heard his footsteps. "yeah, yeah. don't worry, it slipped from the counter." you replied, assuring him that you were okay. he took your hand, to check if you injured yourself or not. "you're burning up." roman placed his hand on your neck, noticing the fever. "i'm okay, baby."

"now, you stay in bed okay?" you shook your head. "baby, i told you i'm okay!" you pouted. "you have a fever and there's no way you're going in the ring today, i'll let everyone know that you're sick." he talked some senses into you, but being the hard-headed person you were, you kept on countering him. "no, no. look, i can stand up perfectly now." you immediately stood up from your position, only causing yourself to fall on your back. "see, you can't even stand properly, silly." roman chuckled. "please just let me go today, the arena is like 10 minutes from our house. i'll let you drive me there!"

after pestering your boyfriend about going to work, he drove you to the arena. "let me know if you wanna go back, okay baby? don't push yourself too hard." you nodded and kissed his forehead. "i can't believe your puppy eyes worked on me." he snickered, getting out of the car. "because you love me." "that's right."

the arena wasn't empty, several staffs were still working. you had to practice some choreography with solo (your tag-team partner) for this week's segment. thankfully, you were partnered up with sami and kevin, the chemistry between the 4 of you was already stable, meaning you didn't have to adapt to a new environment. "damn, (y/n). you look like you've been through some shit." solo commented.

"she's sick as hell but still wants to come." roman sighed in frustration. "go easy on her today." you groaned. "no, don't go easy on me. i'll be okay." you took off your hoodie and hung it inside your locker. “nah, but for real, (y/n). you can watch on the side, i don’t want you to faint or something.” solo continued. “my dude, i’m perfectly fine. i can spear you right here, right now to prove that i’m alright.”

truth be told, you were far from alright. the headache grew stronger and your fever went higher as time went by. even kevin hesitated a bit when he wanted to hit the stunner on you. “are you sure about this?” his arms were on the back of your neck, flaring up by the touch of your heated-skin. “i’m sure.” you smiled at him. “okay, here goes nothing.” you sold the move like usual, but you didn’t get up from your position.

“(y/n)?” solo squatted down, checking up on you. “i’m fine, can you help me get up? i can’t feel my legs.” “come on.” he took your hand and lifted you up. “hey guys, can i take a 10 minute break?” you asked your friends. “i got you, (y/n)!” jimmy slid inside the ring, helping you. “guys, it’s not like i am injured or anything, i just have a fever.” you chuckled, everyone had a concerned look plastered on their faces. “maybe we should all take a break from choreo, let’s run some lines while we wait for (y/n) to rest. wait, never mind, (y/n) take your time okay! we’ll be here all night!” sami gave you a huge smile.

so you were back in the locker room, laying down on the couch. “call me if you need anything. if you wanna go back, call me. i’ll help you out. roman should be back in 15 minutes, he’s dealing with costumes.” you nodded. “sorry practice was a mess because of me. give me 10 minutes and i’ll be okay!” jimmy patted your head. “don’t need to be sorry, you’re our little sister, of course we’ll take care of you.” with that, he closed the door.

“where’s (y/n)?” roman scanned the ring, not seeing your presence. “she’s in the locker room, taking a break. not looking very good, uce.” jey said as he was typing on his phone. “i told her she didn’t have to go today. god, she is so stubborn sometimes.” roman replied, taking off his new gloves. “it’s been half an hour and she’s not back, i think she’s sleeping.” solo added. “i’m gonna check on her, be right back.” roman practically power-walked to the locker room, concerned about your well-being.

and there you were, dozing off on the couch. roman put his hand on your forehead and your fever was worse than before. he gently shook your body, trying to wake you up as he was going to take you back home. “baby?” roman whispered. “(y/n)?” he repeated, not getting an answer. you were out cold.

“what?” you opened your eyes and you were not in the locker room. it took you a couple of seconds to realize that you were back home. “baby, you’re awake.” you saw him carrying a bottle of water and a bowl of something you couldn’t identify. “why are we back home?” was the first question you asked. “baby, you passed out.” “holy shit, i did?”

you hated being sick. you sent multiple messages to solo, jimmy, jey, sami, and kevin (even paul) apologizing because you missed out on rehearsals. they sent the same ‘get well soon’ messages and it warmed your heart. your boyfriend, on the other hand, was panicking over your health. every 5 minutes he would ask if you needed anything to drink or if you wanted anything from downstairs. “baby please stop worrying about me, i’ll be fine in like a day!” you said, trying your best to convince him that you were going to be alright.

“no! of course i’m worried, you’re sick.” he stood up once again, checking your temperature. “it’s still the same, wait, let me get you some cool pads downstairs.” he walked downstairs, carrying the entire medicine compartment. you heard his footsteps but you couldn’t even sit up straight. this fever was taking every single energy you had inside your body. it was quite comical, for a wrestler with your achievements to lose in a fight with this fever. you smiled as your boyfriend entered the room once again.

as he pressed the cooling pad on your forehead, you couldn’t help but to notice that he had a very concerned look on his face. “why are you smiling?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “i don’t know.” after giving you your medicine, he laid right next to you, feeling the warmth coming from your fever. the room was quiet, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence.

“i think this is all paul’s fault.” you blurted out, gaining his attention. “why is that?” he furrowed his brows. “old people.” you chuckled at your own joke, causing you to cough your lungs out. “okay, that’s karma, don’t blame the man though, he loves you like you’re his own daughter.” he added. “i think it was the coffee from last week, you know, the ‘(y/n) this coffee is so good, you have to try it’ that coffee.” roman let out a laugh at your paul impression as he caressed your hair, taking the time to study your features.

you were rarely sick. the last time you were sick was months ago when you ate a bad hotdog from the street fair somewhere in chicago. you ended up in the emergency room with jey and the two of you couldn’t stop laughing the pain away. “i swear if my fever doesn’t die down by friday, i’m gonna lose my shit.” you admitted. roman only nodded in response, still trying his best to not panic at the touch of your skin.

“i’m scared.” you confessed, gaining his attention “of what, baby?” “what if i fuck up next friday?” you were worried. “baby, it’s going to be okay. now all you need is some rest, you’ve been working your ass off for months. it’s not a big fight, you just need to deliver your promos, let kev hit the stunner, and solo will do the rest, just like the script. you’re not gonna fight until next week, i’m sure you’ll be healthy and ready to spear some people.” he always knew how to cheer you up. “you’re right, sorry. the fever is talking.”

and the silence came in again. it was just the two of you, not doing anything. although your head was still pounding, you couldn’t help but to appreciate the moment. your boyfriend knew that you were a hard-headed person when it comes to work-related things, but this time he was thankful you complied with him. roman was still brushing your hair with his fingers, admiring your features like there was no tomorrow. it broke his heart seeing you being in pain because of a stupid fever. maybe he was being overly dramatic, but he just wanted to take care of you. “this is a very weird request,” you paused for a second. “but can you hug me? your skin feels so cold.”

roman grinned as he gently pulled you closer in his arms. “okay, you’re actually not as hot as before.” he sighed in relief. “are you calling me ugly?” he didn’t really understand why you still had the energy to joke around, but at least you were responding better than before. “oh, shut up. just close your eyes and get some rest.” roman replied. “thank you for taking care of me, i’m sorry i don’t think we can go to that date tomorrow night.” you apologized. “don’t apologize, baby. i love you too and i will always take care of you, okay?”

“you know, this is nice.” you admitted. “what is nice?” he turned around, moving closer to you. “just the two of us, here. i like this silence, we should stay home for our day off next time.” once again, he nodded in agreement. “but let’s make sure you’re not practically bed-ridden, that would be great. and now that you’ve mentioned it, i like this silence.” as soon as roman finished his sentence, you heard a knock coming from downstairs.

“YO, OPEN UP THE DOOR! WE BROUGHT SOUP AND TYLENOLS FOR (Y/N)!” it was none other than his damn cousins. you smiled at him, while roman was groaning in the despair. “god, i’m going to beat their asses for disturbing our peace.” he rolled his eyes, getting up from the bed. truthfully, maybe because of this fever, you got a chance to take a break from your fast-paced work. you took a mental note to thank paul for giving you the flu. “god bless paul heyman.”

a/n: quick sweet domestic life for you (i’m sick as well but why don’t i have any roman reigns taking care of me!!!! i want him)!! anyways like usual, requests are always open!! hope y’all enjoyed this short fic!

[6okuto]

MORNING KISSES

(time skip) osamu x gn!reader | suggestive (a make-out session), 1.1k

(tag list lmk if u want to be untagged for suggestive posts btw) u do a littol kissin! getting back to writing...bwah. didn't proofread. don't tell me about any mistakes. (/j) ill explode

"i'll get breakfast started 'nd you can come down when y'aren't so sleepy, then,” osamu murmurs before sitting up to stretch. light sneaks in through the blinds, and it casts a striped shadow across his toned back while you watch him fondly. it’s been a while since the two of you got to sleep in, you note. the restaurant’s been doing well enough that your boyfriend’s decided to take the day off to “focus on you instead."

you hum in response, pulling the blanket up to your chin in attempt to keep the cold away. he’s barely made it two steps out of bed when you call his name. “‘samu.”

“hm?” you don’t say anything, and he turns to see an expectant look on your face. he jokingly sighs before making his way over to your side of the bed and bending down. “how could i forget?” he asks, pressing a chaste kiss to your head and standing back up.

you pout a little before hiding under the covers again. it wasn’t exactly the kiss you wanted, but you stay quiet considering you chose to stare in silence as your plea. osamu raises a brow. “why'd you pout?”

“what? i didn’t pout.”

“yes you did.”

“no i didn’t.”

“i jus' saw you?”

“okay? you saw wrong?”

“darlin’."

“i—” his expression is disproportionately serious for his crime, you think, and you can’t help but laugh. shaking your head, you try to wave him off. “it was nothing, seriously. go make breakfast, ‘samu.”

osamu’s face is still scrunched in worried confusion. he's never been one to let it go if he's done something wrong, especially when it came to you.

it takes another second, but eventually his expression relaxes, and he smiles knowingly. this time he kneels fully to be eye-level with you. you blink at him. “what’re you—what’s happening?”

he exhales, and you stare. he’s close enough that you can smell his new shampoo, and for a fleeting moment you wonder if reaching out to touch his hair would be too out of place. he'd raise a brow and smirk at you. say something to embarrass you so he could watch as you'd bury your face back into the pillow and—

a hand is suddenly coming to hold your face, and a thumb runs across your cheek. osamu juts his tongue to wet his lips, and all you can do is continue to watch, flustered. “‘m sorry. i didn’t kiss you properly, right?”

and as if he could hear your “no” before you’ve even opened your mouth, he leans in to kiss you. denial dies on your tongue when his lips meld with yours, perfectly as if they were made to match. it’s gentle and loving, longer than his peck to your forehead. you relax under his touch but all too soon he pulls away to look at you, hand still warm against your face. “was that better?”

you think his voice is as soft as his lips were.

“...maybe.”

"maybe?"

“maybe.”

to be honest, you don’t think your brain has registered his question. all it knows is how light is reflecting in your boyfriend's eyes perfectly, and his messy bedhead hair is still calling for your touch. your gaze is honed in on his lips when they curl into a smile. and then they're coming closer.

osamu’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and you can feel his breath against your skin as his lips brush against yours. he teases, “well, that’s not good enough, is it?”

your only response is a shake of your head, earning a huffed laugh before he closes the distance between you. again, osamu kisses you. and this time your arms reach around his neck as if you could close the gap between you even more—force him to stay with you instead of cook eggs, or toast, or whatever you asked for 5 minutes ago. you don't remember, and you’re not sure you care, or that he’d mind with the way he presses forward and gently holds the back of your neck.

he groans a little when your fingers finally find their way to his hair and pull gently. he starts to pull away, and you whine, only to be met with a chuckle. “yer killin’ me, y’know,” osamu huffs.

yet he kisses you again. and again, and again, and again. his lips find yours and you sigh against them, chest fluttering at the way he gently bites your lower lip.

you maneuver so that he’s forced to get back into bed on top of you. he hovers, one hand beneath your head, and the other clutching the pillow above. the only sounds besides shifting bed sheets are your racing heart, soft breathes, and open-mouth kisses.

a hand eventually lowers to grip your hip and caress your skin. cold fingers slide their way beneath your shirt, making you gasp and reflexively pull him in. a groan escapes osamu when his hips momentarily grind against yours. his kisses get harder, more needy, his breaths heavier and his hold on your waist a little tighter.

your hand travels down his back, and you pull—you know he's strong enough that he wouldn't let himself topple onto you. he complies to your touch, and you become keenly aware of his chest pressed against yours.

but before anything else can happen, osamu pulls away. though not far. his nose brushes against yours and when you open your eyes, it’s easy to see him still staring at your lips. his eyes finally flicker up to yours and he smiles.

he leans down to your ear, and your breath hitches. “you're poutin' again,” he whispers.

“i'll assume that means that kiss was better?”

his breath tickles and you squirm, scrunching your nose and bringing your shoulder up as a defense. “tease. and i don’t know if that counted as one kiss.”

a gust of air is blown into your neck and you laugh before pushing him away. osamu breathes out a laugh of his own before moving back to hover above you. "okay, smart-ass. how about those ones?"

“i guess they were marginally better,” you tease. he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, narrowing his eyes. you get ready for him to blow more air at you, but instead he squishes your cheeks together and shakes your head.

you giggle and grab his hand with your own, not really doing anything to stop him, and osamu grins at you again. there's an almost sickening amount of love in his eyes as he sighs. “let me make breakfast, then i’ll kiss you properly as much as you’d like, alright?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 9)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: the morning after your ravenous night with toji leaves you wanting more, especially after being interrupted by the weight of all your responsibilities. thank god gojo is there to help, right? ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au, academia au ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! oral sex (m!recieving), dirty talk, gojo being a male menace ☆ a/n: one chapter, two guys...y/n is on a roll xD she's living her best life. also this one is a bit short but i promise it's bc i've got a lot cooking for the next chapter!! sry it took so long to update too i'm still getting thru a bunch of asks and other fics and everything and also starting a new job. life is weird but fun! 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

you wake up feeling extremely tired and groggy; the sun is hidden behind the clouds this morning, but it’s the after effects of the joint you smoked with toji last night that gives you a brutally rude awakening. feeling more sluggish than usual, it takes you a while to remember where you are, the lack of decorations in a plain master bedroom throwing you off. it’s not until you hear toji shifting next to you that all the memories from last night flood your mind: his call you accidentally accepted, him hearing everything you and satoru did, cumming three times – no four times last night…

oh god. you really went all out this time. you had fun but oh my god, you have a final to prep for! you turn over and face toji and see he’s still fast asleep and then you check the time: 6:30am. still pretty early. you check your phone and see a couple messages from shoko and satoru. you check shoko’s first: 

shoko: comin home tn?

shoko: everything good????

oh my god, you totally forgot to tell shoko you would be potentially spending the night with toji, and your stomach drops at how worried she must’ve been. you quickly type out a response: 

y/n: OMG I SPENT THE NIGHT AT TOJI’S IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL U :(

you check satoru’s texts: 

satoru [10:04pm]: missed ya at the study group :( 

satoru  [10:06pm]: wyd tmw? wanna study? 

satoru [1:17am]: what position he got u in?

wow. it started off so nicely until he… gojo’d it up. so close. you’re not even sure why you got into this complicated mess with him to begin with. 

y/n: ur sooo insufferable

y/n: i’ll be in the university library if u wanna come in the afternoon to study  🙄

“am i interrupting something?” you’re startled as toji wraps his muscular arms around you, holding you closer to his chest.. your bad mood quickly dissipates as you feel something hard grazing your ass. you turn your head to face toji as you grin groggily. 

“you’re not but it seems like you wanna start somethin’...” you say, slowly shaking your ass  against his erect member. toji’s hands slip under your sweatshirt and travel up to your chest, finding the mounds of your titties and playing with them as he thrusts his hips against your ass. 

“maybe…” you bite your lip and lean closer to him, engulfing him in a messy, sloppy kiss. his tongue darts out, rediscovering your mouth again as you sigh into him. you shift your body so that you’re facing him, and wrap your legs around his waist as his hands move slowly from your titties to your cheeks of your ass, massaging them as they grind slowly on him. 

“fuck, pumpkin, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” toji groans as his sweats become increasingly uncomfortable due to how much his throbbing member is straining to get out. you playfully bite his lip, driving him even crazier. in swift motions, he pulls on top of him without breaking the kiss, and you yelp in surprise. your core reflexively starts to grind properly on his arousal, causing you to soak through your panties. 

toji unexpectedly thrusts into your clothed core, causing you to yelp before toji quickly slaps a hand over your mouth. “shh, can’t wake up –” he grunts as you desperately rut against his arousal,  “can’t wake up megumi…” his eyes suddenly snap open in panic as he stills your hips. he quickly grabs his phone and checks the time and swears under his breath. 

“what’s going on?” you whine, upset that he put an end to your early morning shenanigans. you lay your body on top of him while cradling his face as you press small wet kisses to his jawline, hoping he’ll forget about whatever he has to do today. ugh, just thinking that thought makes you annoyed about all the things you have to do today, now…

toji groans, willing himself to focus in spite of your soft kisses and whines. “gotta wake megumi up in 30…soccer meet…” 

oh, fuck. you totally forgot about that – the whole reason you and toji baked brownies in the first place. there’s no arguing with him about this and you know it, but god, you really wish you didn’t have to face reality so soon. you’d do anything to stay in a little bit more of momentary bliss before having to get back to the real world with final exams. you complain and sigh under your breath as you slowly slide off toji, as he apologizes and gets up slowly, both of you still trying to shake the sleep from your body. 

your eyes pan down to the tent in toji’s sweats, still visible. hm, maybe you don’t have to leave just now. you bite your lip in anticipation as you touch toji’s chest lightly, and drag your fingers slowly down to the waistband of his sweats, and then on top of the bulge of his own arousal. you apply some light pressure as you loosely grip it, causing toji to suck in a sharp breath. 

“fuck, don’t make this harder than it has to be, pumpkin. just told you we can’t…gotta get ready and –”

“c’mon toji~,” you coo sultrily, using your finger to trace the outline of him, “it’ll be a quickie. i’ll suck you off and you’ll finish before it’s even time…” you make a show of swallowing in anticipation and hunger to have him in your mouth, and toji pinches the bridge of his nose. he wants you. bad. and maybe it won’t hurt anyone if megumi is like, what, 5 minutes late to the meet? it’s just fucking soccer. 

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” he says sharply, but you can hear the hint of playfulness in his voice. “y’got 5 minutes to make me cum, think you’re up to the challenge?” toji teases, as he already begins to bunch your hair up in a makeshift ponytail and pulls you close down on him. 

you giggle, and bite your lip to look up at him. “bet.” you immediately get straight to work on him, palming him through his sweats before slowly bringing down his sweats. you use your palm to rub against his raging arousal, and his guttural moan only spurs you on. 

“no teasing, pumpkin, time’s ticking…” toji keeps his hands firmly grasped in your hair, having full control on your head. you would be lying if you weren’t turned on at the fact that he could start fucking your mouth anytime he wanted to with his vice like grip, but you ignore the pool forming between your thighs. toji releases his throbbing member from its confines, the tip begging for attention.

you start slow, kissing his tip delicately and gradually taking more of him with every kiss, until you have him inside your mouth. you use your tongue swirl around his tip, causing him to let out a breathy groan. “f-fuck, pumpkin, just like that…” he lightly pushes your head down, carefully allowing you to take in more of his length. “i know you can take more. such a slutty girl dying to suck me off first thing in the morning.” 

you moan against him, his filthy words spurring you take even more of him and until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag a little. toji takes control of your movements and starts bobbing your head up and down his shaft.

you feel his shaft twitching and his breaths getting shakier and you know toji is close. “fuck, pumpkin, gonna cum all over you.” toji increases the pace in which he fucks your mouth and you get ready to feel his spillage down your throat before he abruptly lifts your mouth off of him. he guides to the ground on your knees, while he strokes himself off. 

“wanna see myself all over you face, pumpkin,” he groans, increasing the speed of his strokes. “y’gonna let daddy cum all over your face?” you nod your head enthusiastically, and take your tongue out so that the tip touches it as it bobs from toji’s strokes. just as he promised, toji splatters your face with his cum like a jackson pollock painting, and whatever gets on your tongue, you make a lewd attempt to swallow. 

“fuck,” toji says, out of breath, “you’re such a fuckin’ slut you know that?”. he leans down and wipes some of his release from your face with his thumb and you open your mouth to suck on it. “bet you’re soaked under there…” toji murmurs, as his eyes trail down to your shorts. you bite your lip in anticipation as his hands trail down to the waistband of your shorts. he dips his fingers under your panties, and just as his fingers are about to touch the one place you really needed him to, the alarm in toji’s room and megumi’s room goes off. 

both you and toji quickly snap out of your lustful trance and remember reality. “oh, fuck” toji swears as he quickly puts on his pants as you grab tissues from the bedside drawer to clean up the mess on your face. if there’s a term for getting blue balled but for girls, you have it for sure, but you feel bad whining about it since there’s nothing the both of you can do about it. 

you’re about to head to the bathroom to wash up as toji puts on a jacket before heading to megumi’s room to wake him up. meanwhile, you use the toothbrush that toji had been so kind to bring for you the last time you spent the night and freshen up. it’ll be fine. just don’t think about how your clit is literally throbbing right now or how your panties are soaked. don’t think about how close his fingers are. don’t. don’t. DON’T! 

you frustratedly head downstairs to pack up your stuff. maybe if you make it home fast enough, you can use your vibrator to get some quick release from this morning. yes, that seems like the way to go. your thoughts are interrupted by toji coming downstairs with megumi.

“good morning, megumi”, you sing. he looks especially cute when he’s just tired and just woken up, with his big little yawns and droopy eyes. 

“mornin’...” he mumbles as toji puts him down. he rubs his eyes as he goes into the garage to get his cleats. 

toji walks to you and gives you an apologetic look. “sorry, pumpkin, i hate you leave you needy like this.” toji playfully pouts as he pulls you into a hug. he runs his fingers through your hair as you inhale his scent – spiced wood and a hint of his laundry detergent. 

“you owe me,” you say, looking up at him. “it’s taking everything in me to not jump your bones right this second.” you’re not totally lying when you say that. 

toji leans down to whisper in your ear. “the next time i see you, i’m gonna be eating you out for fuckin’ hours, pumpkin.” you shudder in anticipation, and you realize this conversation is not helping your situation… 

you pull up to the driveway of your apartment and quickly take the stairs two at a time, as you want nothing more than to take a quick shower (and maybe cum your brains out, too, who knows? hard to tell.). you open the door to see shoko already dressed and making waffles for breakfast. the smell of maple syrup and butter makes your mouth salivate as you realize just how hungry you are. 

“welcome back, slut!” shoko shouts from the kitchen. 

“mornin’ bitch!” you greet, as you take your shoes off at the entrance. shoko pokes her head out of the kitchen and eyes you up and down. “wait, what are you doing up so early?” you ask, realizing shoko usually is never awake before 10. 

“remember? i told you i needed to start studying step 3 like yesterday!” she says. you can’t recall if she ever said anything about taking the medical licensing exam before right now, but it does no good for you to fight her on it. 

“wait, are you going to the library to study, then?” maybe you could tag along with her and then you’ll be forced to actually make progress with the final exam. 

“yes, wanna come? you and satoru have a final right? and you’re just out and about “babysitting”?” shoko does dramatic air quotes around that word, making you roll your eyes. 

“you’re one to talk when you apparently have step 3 and you were with utahime last night,” you retort. 

“she’s a teacher, okay! she was teaching me!”

“teaching you to put your tongue down her throat.” you try to hold back your smile but fail. 

shoko laughs before going back to her playfully stern face. “get your shit ready for the library quickly, slut. i made you an extra waffle.”

you promise you’ll be out as soon as possible as you head to your room and take the fastest shower known to mankind. no really, you do not want to be caught dead being late for something shoko wants to do. you chuck your clothes into the laundry hamper as you decide on what to wear to study on a…damn. a rainy sunday. you decide on a cashmere blush pink turtleneck sweater with a pair of comfy black mom jeans. underneath it, you layer a skin tight full sleeve gray shirt to keep you warm. you quickly do your skin care and apply minimal make up, before grabbing your black raincoat and bag and going back to the kitchen. 

you see shoko almost finished with her waffle while yours is neatly set on a plate with strawberries (your favorite fruit), butter, and maple syrup. you quickly pat down your wet hair as you take a seat (you’re just gonna have to settle for wet hair in the rain today but it’s okay, it’s not like you have anyone to impress). you quickly scarf down the semi-cold waffle while you and shoko update each other about yesterday. 

“i can’t believe he blue balled you like that! jobless and a menace!” shoko says sympathetically. 

“stop calling him jobless! his job is being a father.” you defend toji, but you won’t lie, it’s a bit hard. 

shoko and you both giggle as you guys head to the campus library. 

you yawn as you take a sip of your iced hong kong coffee milk tea. this shit’s doing nothing to keep you awake. you check the time. 2:56pm. you’ve been studying for around 6 hours already, and your brain is fried. you’ve tried to take frequent breaks with shoko, but she has very unconventional study methods – study for hours straight and then sleep for double the amount of time and then rinse and repeat. it was psychotic to say the least. that is to say, you haven’t had a chance to wind down in between hours. the bright side, however, is that you were lightyears ahead of your study schedule. maybe you could afford to fuck around a little bit… 

you grab your phone from your bag and see 2 missed calls from satoru. shit. you can’t call him from this particular campus library since it was a designated quiet library, so you text him insead: 

y/n: sorry i missed ur calls what’s up

satoru: comin in 5 what floor u at babygirl

y/n: 5th and don’t call be babygirl 

satoru: np babygirl 

you roll your eyes. it’s so infuriating to talk to satoru sometimes, but especially now after you both shared an unexpected kiss (and more) together. now that you think of it, this is the first time you’re seeing him since the barcade. should you be feeling nervous? strangely, you’re feeling fine. if anything, you’re feeling that unfortunate familiar feeling down there that you forgot about after toji left you hanging, but are now remembering because of satoru. 

you’re not one to make moves on someone like satoru, but you bite your lip thinking about how maybe (read: definitely) convince him to…take a walk with you as a study break. you ponder on it a little bit more, weighing out the pros and cons. 

pros are that you’ll finally be able to get a release, especially after this morning and working so hard. the cons, however, are mainly that you’ll be doing that with…satoru. your best friend. your annoying will-definitely-make-fun-of-you-for-this-request best friend. with satoru being around a minute from getting here, you decide on just winging it based on how you feel. 

shoko and you hear sounds coming from the corner entrance of the floor and look up to see nanami, haibara, and satoru trailing behind them, balancing three cups of coffee in one hand with ease. satoru and haibara are snickering about something and nanami looks embarrassed to be near them and starts walking a bit faster ahead of them. you wave your hand and grab his attention as the group walks to your table. 

“hey y/n! how’s it goin–”

“if any of you idiots even speak more than a word above an undetectable whisper, i’m going to kill you all.” shoko says, interrupting nanami’s greeting. 

you all look at each other silently, taking shoko’s threats to heart. 

“gojo, i swear to god if you say even a single thing–” shoko starts as satoru’s shit eating grin starts to form slightly as he pulls a chair next to you. 

“relaaaaaax, ieri. you won’t even know i exist, besides, you can’t hate me. i got you coffee!,” he assures, placing one of the three coffee cups near shoko. you don’t believe him and you suspect shoko doesn’t either.  haibara and nanami sit across from you next to shoko as they keep their heads down and pull out their books and laptops as quietly as humanly possible. you give a meek wave to them. 

gojo silently hands you a clear iced cup, with what you can only deduce to be an iced matcha latte with oatmilk. you apprehensively take a sip. unsweetened. just how you like it. “wow, my signature order?”

“what can i say? i’m a guy who pays attention.” satoru says, shrugging overtly humbly. 

“more like you’re obsessed with me.” you take another sip. 

“is that such a bad thing?” he says, lowering his voice, and bringing his face closer to you.

“you guys need to shut the fuck up.” shoko says, not looking up from her laptop and whatever she was writing in her notebook. 

“hey, i just booked a study room on the floor. let’s head there and study so we don’t bother shoko-san.” says haibara, as he closes his laptop and slowly gathers his stuff from his desk. 

“good idea!” you say, as you grab your stuff to move. satoru hasn’t bothered to take a single thing out, so he grabs your coffee and waits for you to pack up your things as nanami and haibara go ahead of you to secure the room. you and satoru follow closely behind. 

“sooo…” satoru starts. 

“sooo what?” your voice a low whisper as you walk away from the table shoko is studying at.

“how was last night?” 

you roll your eyes. of course he wants to know that. you spin the question back to him. “how was your night?” 

“it was fine. boring, really, because we kept on talking about quantum theory and like, all i could think of was, ugh.” satoru dramatically rubbed his temples to feign agony. “all i could think of was bending you over on a table and using my tongue to lick your–”

“WHAT?! SHUT THE FUCK–” you quickly lowered your voice as people gave you dirty looks around the library at your outburst. “shut the fuck. up. satoru.” your eyes widen at how bold he was to say something like that at a library. with nanami and haibara just a little ahead of you. 

gojo seems unbothered and shrugs. “you asked?”

“yeah, people ask and you just say ‘it was good, thanks.’ not explicitly laying out all your thoughts!” you chastise. you’re choosing to ignore that oh so familiar feeling between your legs. 

gojo takes a sip of his coffee. “c’mon, y/n. let’s just…man, fuck this ‘study session’”. you’re unsure why he does air quotes around ‘study session’ because for all intents and purposes, you did plan to use this time to get ahead of your study plan. “let’s just go back to my place or somethin’. suguru’s not home, we can just chill. do some of that studying you wanna do, and like, whatever else.” 

“you’re literally too horny function.”

“don’t act like you don’t wanna as well.”

ok, he got you there. “not right now, i wanna study!” you look at him, this time with pleading eyes. “don’t say anything horny in there, please. i can’t have people know about this, it’s so embarrassing.” 

“ouch.”

“don’t say anything in there and i’ll blow you in the library after you explain the quantum theory stuff that’s gonna be on the final to me.”

this deal makes satoru’s eyes widen. it’s too good to be true for him, because if there’s one thing he’s good at besides being a male menace, it’s explaining tough science concepts to cute girls. “deal.”

[jvnluvr]

author’s note: sooo, long time no see haha. i haven’t been able to write blue lock stuff lately n i’m sorry about that. hsr has kinda been in my mind lately, especially dan heng/imbibitor lunae for those of you who know. idk if many of my followers even know abt hsr but those who followed the tags, i hope u enjoy. mostly self indulgent btw, it’s very short and i wrote it on a whim at 2am.

ft. dan heng x f!reader

ever since you joined the express, you were able to see a side of dan heng nobody else was really able to crack. he was able to feel atleast somewhat vulnerable with you, and you both cherished your moments together when it came to trailblazing.

of course, you all sleep in separate rooms. but you both have shared with each other that sometimes you get nightmares. the type to where you can’t find yourself falling back asleep once you’ve been through the experience. usually when this happens for you, you tend to catch up on other things in the middle of the night.

but this particular night, you woke up in a cold sweat, a pang of fear hitting your stomach, and it continued to linger. trying to distract yourself was futile, so your body moved on it’s own. you slowly opened your door, walking a mere couple of steps as you found yourself slowly opening dan heng’s door, as knocking would have made too much noise.

he’s awake, to your surprise, casual clothing and in bed, reading a book with a tiny light source near him. however, his head strikes up as he hears his door open, but his tension is relieved when he sees it’s you. you’re rubbing your eyes as you close the door behind you, and you never really planned out what you were going to say to him, as you’ve never done this before.

“um.. ah..” you whisper out in the dimly lit room. “i can leave if you want but— just uh.. ‘had a nightmare and i don’t know why but i got up and here i was—” you let out a breath, exasperated just thinking about your nightmare from before. you look back at him and his eyes urge you to come closer and so you do.

you continue to walk until your sitting in front of him, and you explain properly what happened. he intently listens to you, secretly admiring you in the process though. his fingers slightly graze over yours, like a request, to which you invite him in, intertwining your fingers together as you unexpectedly wrap your arms around him, bringing him in for a hug.

at first, you don’t feel him reciprocate your action, to which you get scared. maybe you did step too far? you try and pull back quickly, but his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, keeping you in his lap as you breathe the same air.

“you can sleep here tonight, i don’t mind.” he whispers in your ear, not only rubbing small circles on your back, but also pressing a very delicate kiss against your cheek. you’re shocked to say the least, but maybe your sleepy mind is completely out of energy to even question why dan heng was acting like this. maybe he knew you wouldn’t ask.

it comes almost naturally to the two of you as he closes the light he was once using to read. he lies you both down, keeping his arms around you as your legs start to tangle together. you feel dizzy with love as you quickly drift off to sleep, feeling safe in his arms. however, dan heng stays awake a little longer, to look at you and quickly say a small “i love you.” before falling asleep beside you.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

out of context line/snippet

crawling out of my hole with a smol snippet of some original sapphic fiction i’m writing *gasp*

tagged by the lovely @itsjaywalkers, @messymoony and @kaaaaaaarf i’m smooching yall

Shaima continues, hacking the last dagger into the fourth corner of the map on her desk, “I don’t know about the [redacted] per se but to answer the question, yes. We will make port. Properly. A week at least.”

Shouts of “Aye!” erupt from most ladies, paired with broad grins and happy giggles, Charango opting for a swift strum of their strings. Shaima can’t help when the corners of her lips rise.

“That’s what I like to hear from my favourite Captain,” Deepali murmurs, smirking.

Shaima pulls a fifth knife, holding it just to the base of Deepali’s throat in reprimand of her cockiness. “I am your only Captain.”

More lash fluttering, “My point still stands.”

Shaima narrows her eyes in warning. Although before the scene can escalate, there is a string instrument neck placed on Deepali’s chest, oh so slowly pushing her back and off the desk until she is settled into Charango’s side, still grinning like a cat that got the cream.

Shaima gives them an acknowledging nod which Charango replies to with one of their own. After about six weeks out on the open sea they might be the only other one with an ounce of common sense on their vessel. Açaí fluffs her feathers and replies with a caw of You’re Welcome.

no pressure tagging

@bloodbruise @courfee @honeybcj @kaleidoscopexsighs @moon-seas

@nympheral @rottin6 @royalthorned @casstration @veryinnovative

<3 sorry for disappearing for so long ily all and i miss u and yes i had to go alphabetically because i barely remembered any urls after so long jfkskfks

[kyoghurts]

hh-hi hi, i've been scrawling the mashle x reader tags all day, and i'm very desperate to see someone write anything for my gorgeous wife magarette macaron ;v; preferably fem-reader. i just think about her entry in the fanbook alot about how she'd like someone preferably stronger than her, and i'd just imagine a student who deeply respects and admires her who's motivated to improve their magical ability and their inclination for the arts (painting, dance, music etc, it might even be part of their magic ehe, something that'd compliment margarette's sound magic <3) to try and catch her eye. my apologies if it's too specific! i understand female/nb characters in the mashle fandom aren't exactly the apple of many writers' eyes, and i hope your studies are going well ;u; i would just like to see some content of my favourite character. thank you!

LOVE. oil on canvas

content ♡ prns used for margarette in this fic are they/them. gn reader. fluff. established relationship. not proofread. half assed poetry writing. gazing each at each other with lots of descriptive scenes and not many dialogues. wrote this while having writers block :( apologies

notes ♡ MARGARETTE MACARON THE NONBINARY EVER <3 sorry your request took so long :( the first few parts were written 2 months ago and left there until i could not pick out details from the outline i made, so i had to modify a bit until i visualise it properly. div creds to cafekitsune!

there'd have at least an answer to every call of your heartbeats each time margarette macaron comes to slip its way into your thoughts, the sound of their chuckles or the shape of their grin, the swift catch of eye as you bump into them at random intervals, the occasional quips and teases when chances arrive. you long to find an answer to your heart hammering inside your chest, you want this organ to quell itself because if this keeps up, you might as well just die from a heart-attack.

but even when you get the gist of your feelings, the answer doesn't come to you in details smaller than the canvas of a larger size than what you're used to. the big picture is there, but it lacks...something. and you don't know what it is.

(why you admire them so much to the extent of soaring high of inspirations. like a drug that streams in the bloodstream subtle but persistent, an addiction in a good way. each interaction is recalled even more vividly than the last. it’s enough to drive you insane.)

(why, that’d you even go as far as to take it upon yourself to scramble for ways to grab their attention. you don’t.. want to admit it, but perhaps a part of you is so driven to win this once-in-a-lifetime art contest because you want margarette to finally see you. in the same way you see them)

(and for reasons… you can’t bring yourself to conclude)

you’re standing in front of your piece like a man slowly decaying, a dejected look smothered all over your face, accompanied by splotches of paint and dirt. you probably look like shit, but even that thought doesn’t bring you to feel anything.

days—weeks of letting your emotions snowball into a flurry of frustration, anxiety, and starving ambition until it crashes against a wall, tall and sturdy, completely shutting you down. you’re spent. and now your mind inevitably falls back into a place you know so much and not.

your piece, although praised by many of your peers, you can’t seem to bring the same enthusiasm to yourself. yes, the message is clear, the artistry is well done, and yet… it lacks a detail so precise you can never capture whole. a fleeting dream in wide waking eyes, it flashes through your vision and yet can never be caught in the paint and tremblings hands that you have.

a missing part. a body without a heart, leaving a hollow in the left of the sternum, and between its lungs.

you’re about to heave a sigh of resignation when footsteps approach you, clean and smooth traces that you’ve heard and know so much, a calm stride despite everything.

margarette calls out to you, familiarity in their lips, honey-soaked tongue and well-poised and its sending you into a state of shock, tongue tied. why are they here? heart on your throat, eyes blown like a deer caught in a headlight. they smile, though different than politeness they often express, it’s curves at the end tells a more softer story. a gentle stroke of touch.

they look concerned, so to speak.

“it’s late out, (name).” they tell you, and you have to slowly gaze at the clock across the room and wake up from your daze, look at the windows to see midnight blues greet you in a gentle reminder. “why are you still here?”

“i only have a week to finish this…” you motion towards your canvas, somehow you can’t find the word to call it an artwork. not to margarette of all people.

“it’s lovely, dear” you purse your lips, looking down instead of accepting their words of praise head on, as if you don’t trust any of it, like how you don’t trust yourself.

“hmm, i do have some suggestions, take it as a grain of salt.”

you lift your head so suddenly it gives you a fright. “really?”

margarette’s attention doesn’t waver, they gaze your artwork with scrutiny, half lidded and in deep thought.

for some reason, you feel vulnerable with this. like they’re not just staring at your piece, they’re including you, too. it’s your work, after all, and from the way they tilt their head and eyes not leaving every single detail, it feels as though they’re looking through the artist’s intention— what’s beyond the efforts of the craft that most people always want to look past.

for some reason, it scares you how they’re so quiet, how close they are next to you right now. and though you don’t want to admit it, but the more you stare at margarette, the more clearer their features become. you wonder what it would feel like to trace the musical note marks traveling through the eyes to their cheekbones, how dangerous it must be if you swipe your thumb against their lips as you smudge the dark color that so attracts you. how it would all feel if you cup their face and scrutinise you instead. to memorize you the same way you’ve been studying art itself.

when they finally speak, a flood of ideas break through the dam. they tell you it’s mostly minor details, but to you, it means everything. and you’re not even exaggerating it, art has been your call, even your personal magic speaks for itself, and you want to let margarette know how much this means to you. how much of a burden has been lifted off your shoulders, in just an instant.

“your work inspires me.” they chuckle, faint and airy and it’s making you blush. “i hear a beautiful sound just by gazing at it.”

they turn to you, a smile on their lips.

you don’t want to tear your gaze, you say, “if my work sings to your soul, then…its fulfilled its purpose.”

“it has, my dear.” they might have noticed something on your face, because they start sifting underneath their robe, and pulls out a cloth. “you have paint all over you.”

“oh where-”

“here.” they lift your chin, wiping the side of your face with their other hand, and they take their time doing so. their movements delicate and gentle, your eyes on them the whole time, completely breathless.

(with the lights casting shadows across your face, twilight saying hello in your window, and the person you so admire from a place raw within a heart that feels hollow and not, empty but full and heavy, you want to capture this particular moment with this particular person in a time that’s suspended and remembered.)

(there are pieces that simply evoke too many emotions inside your ribcage, but this piece could actually lead you to an answer you’ve been putting on hold for so long.)

(the answer is simple, actually, you could laugh at yourself for this.)

you hadn’t realised that you did laugh, margarette stops from wiping and watches you in surprised amusement, the softness in their expression stirs your stomach in such a familiar way as you feel your face starting to burn. “sorry,” you say in between chuckles, “that was sudden.”

after a while of small talks and discussions towards your artwork, you finally call it a night. margarette walks you to your dorm, and you can’t miss the way they wave at you and mutter goodnight as you close your door.

you’re sure your going to dream about this for days without end.

you didn’t expect for your work to be displayed in such a grand way, with golden frames and a title plate situated under the piece. honestly, you’d think this is another dream questionable enough that you’re starting to battle reality, like right now.

you think you’re going to wake up soon and forget that day they announced your name as the first placer and that people literally hurdled towards you in utter shock and excitement, screaming in your ear until it bleeds from the “congratulations!!” to “you slayed like picasso on a caffeine high!” and “you've officially made the rest of us look like we're finger-painting with our toes. congrats on the epic win!” and more out of pocket forms of praise that you don’t want to hear any further.

you want to wake up that is until they stood on the hall to where your artwork was displayed, until they see the small plate with the title written in a small, minimalist text.

as you approach margarette anxiously, you soon find yourself not needing to be so tense. you watch as they scan your piece similar to that night, subtly taking each and every detail with their whole, undivided attention.

"congratulations," they say, their voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "you've captured something truly special here.”

this time, you smile with pride and gratitude. you don’t have to say anything for when they ask for your hand and they kiss your knuckles so delicate you feel elated, so over the moon that the answer to your heartbeats has been settled like stilled ocean. no longer in hunger for a call, no storms raging inside your poetic little heart.

you take one good look at your piece before margarette leads you to- well, this is most definitely not a dream, but you’re sure they ask you if you’re free at the moment, asking to join them for lunch.

your bright, excited ‘i’d love to!’ doesn’t leave any doubts, in fact, margarette can only squeeze your hand in response. as if saying they reciprocate how you feel, and that the missing piece has always been there for you all along.

© kyoghurts ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[hardbeingcasual]

GLIMPSE OF US, carl grimes x fem reader

SUMMARY: You can’t look into the eyes of Judith because you’ll see Carl.

WARNINGS: Death mentions, sad reader, sad Judith

notes: carl fic cause he deserved sooo much better. i’ve not read over this so i apologise if its got some mistakes… title is joji’s song!!!!

You were sat on the porch of your home in alexandria, you had a book on your lap but you weren’t reading it properly. Every time you remembered the book in your lap you skimmed over the words over and over again. It had been 5 years since Carl dying, but you were still not over it. You didn’t think you could ever get over it.

Whenever you saw Judith, you immediately look away, you saw Carl in her. They were so alike. Whenever you saw the hat that Carl once used to wear, your mind traveled to memory lane. Like back in Atlanta, just at the start. Thats when you both had met, you were both so little, so clueless. It wasn’t until you and the group got to Alexandria you and Carl got together. It took you both years to figure out your feelings for each other, but after confessions and shared kisses, you realised you both had a spark.

When you had found out he had been bit your world fell apart. You thought it was just some sick and twisted joke he was playing. But it was no joke, it was real life. The real world is a horrible and dark place. You would be lucky if you even survived in the first place.

You felt horrible, when it came to not looking Judith in the eye. Of course you spoke to her, but you could not look into her eye. She was not dumb, she got that from Carl.

“Why do you not speak to me anymore?” A small fragile voice speaks up, breaking you from your daze, you didn’t even realise she had been in front of you until now.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble with guilt, eyes still on your lap.

“Its okay.” She answers, as she sits next to you on the porch of the house you shared with Rosita. “I think I know why,” She starts, as she tries to find the words to explain it. “You miss him, and you see him when you look at me. I get it a lot.”

Your felt like you were drowning, like your tears that were going to spill were going to drown you. You were too busy wallowing in your own pity to even care what Judith was going through, it was her brother. The brother who always took care of her, or tended to her when Rick was too busy fighting the saviors or doing god knows what.

“I’m so sorry, Judith.” You confessed, finally looking at her, for the first time in ages. She had grown so much, she was getting older, and that struck you right in your heart, you had missed some of it, leaving you guilty again. “I was too busy to even care about you and I am so sorry, I’m so sorry you didn’t have me by your side to help you through it.”

Judith didn’t respond, she just wrapped her arms around you, hugging you, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around her smaller frame, her head in your neck as tears roll down her cheeks and her sobs break through the air.

All you needed was each other, Judith needed you, you needed her, but what you both needed was Carl. But you both knew you’d never see him again, but at least you had each other now. Judith had the person who she saw as a sister back in her life again.

tags @zndayacc (lmk if u want added to twd fics taglist)

[sickficideas]

may i propose the idea of dazai crying until he throws up but Actually. do what u will with this information😭

hello anon, i greet you 11 months later...i am so sorry....and I have no idea if this was even a fic request or just a Hey. This Concept is Cool. and you're right so I wanted to write a fic about it and it took me 11 months. so. here you go Im so sorry LOL

just get up, get up || kunikidazai sickfic

ao3! 5.2k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! this one is a little heavy (past suicide attempt references, death mentions)

Kunikida is standing outside of Dazai's apartment, originally with a bone to pick with him for not showing up to the company dinner, but he’s long forgotten that. He's far too focused on the fact that he hears Dazai crying through the front door.

Dazai doesn’t cry.

Kunikida has the key to his apartment, as a precaution. He’s had it since the first time Dazai seriously attempted to kill himself, swallowing nearly forty pills from something he stole from Kunikida’s bathroom, that being the only reason Kunikida found him in time. He’s told Dazai he won’t disrespect his privacy unless he thought he had good reason to, and he thinks he has a good reason to do just that right here. He fumbles with his keys to find the one labeled Dazai.

Because Dazai does not cry for no reason.

He barges in, closing the door behind him but not bothering to even lock it properly before he runs to Dazai’s bedroom, where the sobs are coming from. Kunikida’s praying in his head on repeat that he isn’t in a life-threatening situation because that’s not a farfetched idea here, but he doesn’t quite get that feeling here.

Dazai is curled up in the corner of his nearly barren bedroom with the lights off, on his side, on the floor. Kunikida doesn’t see any signs of a suicide attempt, but that doesn’t mean much - just because he doesn’t see a noose or a pill bottle doesn’t mean he’s fine, and clearly, he’s not.

Kunikida can count at least five empty bottles of various types of alcohol on the floor.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, but he doesn’t detect any reaction from him, he’s just choking on sobs and sounding nearly unable to breathe, and Kunikida is contemplating calling Yosano. But he can’t do that. Dazai won't do any better with a doctor here, even one he’s familiar with.

Kunikida, for once, can't think of anything to help.

He's seen Dazai drunk before, but he doesn't think that's what's going on. Something else is causing this.

Kunikida kneels down in front of him, laying a hand over Dazai’s arm, covering his face for the most part. The bandages on his arms have long come loose, which tells him just how far off his mental state is right now.

Dazai’s face is red and his eyes are shot, a fact that Kunikida is only able to tell because of how Dazai looks up at him, brow furrowed and almost somehow begging Kunikida to make it stop. What exactly that is, he doesn’t know, but he can’t stand seeing Dazai like this. He needs to do something.

"Did you take something?" Kunikida asks as Dazai’s eyes drift away from him again. Kunikida’s forcing eye contact with a death grip on his arm. "Medications? Drugs?"

Dazai shakes his head just barely, and for some reason, Kunikida feels inclined to believe him. Kunikida is shocked Dazai is even listening to what he’s saying.

"Were you drinking?" Kunikida asks, even though the answer is obvious. Dazai barely nods before pulling his arm back over his face, trying to make himself smaller in some feeble attempt to tell Kunikida to leave, but he won’t even consider it.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, but Dazai doesn't answer. He cries out like he's in pain and his body twists, eyes screwed shut. Kunikida panics, he presses against Dazai's shoulder to lay him flat on the floor and check him over for injuries, but he sees nothing. No blood, no rips in his clothing, nothing. Dazai's eyes have relaxed, but they're still flooded with tears.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, not even sure what to follow up with. He feels dizzy. What does he even do here? He needs a plan. He needs to figure out how to help Dazai at least feel better enough temporarily so he's not choking on his sobs. “Let's get you to bed, come on.”

Kunikida scoops a hand under the shoulder that's against the ground to encourage Dazai to get off of the floor, at least, hoping that he can walk himself. Dazai's not crying as hard right now but it almost sounds like there's something else keeping his focus. He manages to get himself together enough to prop himself up, but Kunikida realizes too late that he looks nauseous all of a sudden, and the gag confirms his suspicion. The choking he was hearing were probably half-gags to begin with.

Dazai leans forward and chokes up a torrent of pale, watery vomit, just barely missing Kunikida's knee, but he's not to lucky the second time he gags, most of it splattering up the side of his thigh.

In any other circumstance, Kunikida would have certainly shouted at him. For drinking so much, for not being able to control himself, but he can't even bring himself to say anything, much less reprimand him. All he can do is make sure Dazai doesn't fall face forward in his own vomit.

His seemingly endless tears join in the vomit and drool that drips from his chin as he breathes heavily over the puddle, not able to keep himself up anymore. Kunikida doesn't want him to lay back down anymore -if he's not down throwing up, the last thing he needs is to choke on his own vomit, so he tries to at least prop him up.

He isn't finished, so it was a good call. He manages to avoid Kunikida this time, gagging and spitting up more of his stomach contents to add to this existing puddle, a hand pressed against his tummy.

He hasn't calmed down at all. His eyes look wild, as if throwing up has just made him feel a hundred times worse. Another thing that Kunikida can't do much about. He's so helpless, sitting right in front of him and watching him cry his eyes out without any idea what's going on.

Kunikida leans forward and holds him close, both arms wrapped around him in some kind of attempt to ground him.

“Dammit, Dazai,” Kunikida murmurs quietly. He’s completely and utterly heartbroken. Dazai was just suffering here. He wasn’t trying to end his life. He wasn’t hurting himself. He wasn’t even on anything, he just drank his sorrows away and sobbed for what must have been hours before Kunikida got here. “I'm going to stay with you tonight. Okay?”

He feels Dazai nod against his shoulder. That's a good sign, but he still shakes and sobs against him, like he wants to curl up and disappear in his arms.

That's fine with him, if the feeling helps. Kunikida will hold him as long as he needs him to.

He can't tell how long it's been once Dazai starts to breathe normally, but Kunikida takes the opportunity. He manages to move him over to his bed and under his covers. Dazai's eyes have glazed over. His lashes are still wet but he doesn't seem to be crying much more right now, and he's hoping he will at least be able to sleep for a few hours.

Kunikida tries to straighten things up, per his nature. He picks up all of the empty alcohol bottles and trash that litter his bedroom floor and brings them to the kitchen. He brings a trash bin beside Dazai's bed in case he needs to vomit again soon before he cleans the puddle in the corner. He feels nauseous himself, but he certainly won't make Dazai do the job right now. He wipes up the now-dried bits of vomit on his pants, and grabs another rag for Dazai's face.

He's almost asleep, finally. Kunikida wipes up his mouth and his chin. His face is warm, he lays a hand against his cheek to feel it. He's not worried about a fever, thinking it's probably just how much Dazai has worked himself up.

“I wish you would've called someone,” Kunikida says quietly.

He's glad he got to him before it got worse, at least.

…

The next morning, Kunikida opens the screen door to Dazai's porch. He should have done that last night. The entire dorm room reeks of alcohol and vomit, something he's only realizing with a taste of fresh air.

The rest of the night was easier than it could have been. Dazai somehow managed to sneak past Kunikida at some point, who had fallen asleep on the floor next to his bed, to puke in the bathroom for a few minutes. He would've fallen asleep there if Kunikida hadn't noticed and put him back to bed.

He groans, trying to stretch out the aches in his muscles from sleeping on the floor.

There's not a long list of people he would do that for.

When he wanders back into Dazai's bedroom, he sees him watching. On his side, head halfway engulfed by his pillow and looking at least seventy-five percent asleep, but he's awake.

"Hey," Kunikida says quietly.

"Hi,” Dazai croaks. The first coherent word he's spoken.

“I'll be right back. Just going to my dorm room for a moment,” Kunikida tells him. Dazai only nods. He wonders if maybe he shouldn't leave him alone, but it doesn't look as if Dazai has any energy at all to do something he shouldn't. “Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, and lets his eyes fall shut. Kunikida feels relieved.

Thank god they have today off, too.

He disappears into his dorm for no longer than ten minutes to change clothes and do his morning routine - brush his teeth, wash his face. He thinks about showering but decides to put that off, not wanting to leave Dazai alone for longer than he needs to. He thinks Dazai would certainly benefit from a shower, too.

He makes it back soon enough to Dazai's bed room. The air feels much more fresh now, which will certainly do Dazai some good. He's turned around, now, the glass of water Kunikida had places beside him on the other side, but still full. Like he had tried to drink some, but decided not to. Kunikida wouldn't be surprised at all if he was still nauseous.

He needs to make him something to eat. Rice or soup would do him some good. Nauseous or not, he needs some substance in his stomach or else throwing up will be much more painful, and leave him feeling much worse - especially when he's pumped full of alcohol.

He turns to walk back into the kitchen, but Dazai's hoarse voice stops him before he can go any further.

"Sorry about last night. Kunikida," Dazai mumbles, his back still turned to him.

Kunikida doesn't think he's ever heard him sound that sincere about an apology before. It's genuine but dripping with guild all the same. It feels strange to hear. He almost wants to joke back.

"It's alright," Kunikida tells him, deciding now is not the time to be having any sort of conversation about it. He'll talk later, right now he just wants Dazai to feel normal. "I'll make you some food. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry, ‘s okay,” Dazai replies quietly. He’s lowered his voice, like it hurts to keep it over a certain volume. Kunikida watched him shift like he wanted to move, but ultimately decide to sink back down.

"You still need to eat, Dazai. You threw up at least six times last night,” he says with a little sigh. “Just a little so that there's something in your stomach. It doesn't need to be right this second.”

Dazai has two packets of instant rice if he remembers correctly, and nothing else. Kunikida decides he'll go get groceries for him tomorrow. He's pretty certain those packets are left over from the last time he got groceries for him, too.

“I’ll eat later,” Dazai agrees begrudgingly, which Kunikida thinks is certainly better than the response he was expecting. “What’s the time?”

Finally, he turns so that he’s on his back. He tilts his head in Kunikida’s directly. He looks like he’s nearly on his deathbed - he’s so pale and looks exhausted.

“It’s almost nine in the morning,” Kunikida tells him.

“It feels like it’s five AM,” Dazai grumbles.

“Do you want to shower?” Kunikida asks. He’s trying to think of ways to get him out of bed. He doesn’t think wasting away in his dark room is any good for him, and he thinks a shower would certainly help him feel better.

“No,” he grumbles, glaring at Kunikida.

“Well, you should,” Kunikida says, leaning against the door frame.

Dazai groans like a child, turning away so his back faces Kunikida once again. This reaction, he should have expected.

“I'll help you,” Kunikida offers.

“Can it be a bath instead?” Dazai mumbles. Kunikida can hear the pout on his lips.

“Whatever will get you smelling better than a bar,” Kunikida says. He doesn’t care either way. “I’ll start it now, then. I’d really like if you had some water, I don’t need to you pass out on me.”

Dazai makes a vague noise in acknowledgment, but the way he pulls the sheets over his head tells him that he’s going to take advantage of his bed before he makes any plans to drink water.

Thankfully, Dazai doesn’t make the rest of it difficult for him. He doesn’t even argue about the bandages anymore.

Kunikida massages a second round of shampoo into his hair, with Dazai underwater from the shoulders down, quiet for the most part. The water is the perfect temperature and it’s certainly doing him some good, some color has started to come back to his face. He’s a little more quiet than Kunikida is comfortable with, though.

“Anything you usually do on Sundays?” Kunikida asks him, leaning Dazai’s head back just a bit before taking the pitcher of water to rinse the shampoo out.

"I usually…" Dazai mumbles, pausing like he’s not sure he wants to share. He keeps his eyes shut as Kunikida continues to rinse out the shampoo. "I go visit a friend."

"A friend?" Kunikida asks. He thinks most of the shampoo is out. There’s a bottle of conditioner that Kunikida put in here years ago that Dazai clearly never uses - he decides he’s going to do it now, while he has him here.

"Yeah," Dazai nods. He pauses again as Kunikida words the conditioner into his hair, but the silence must have encouraged him to say what’s on his mind. "Do you…can you come?"

Kunikida's surprised at this.

"I don’t have any plans today,” Kunikida says. Not entirely true. He has a Sunday routine, but he can make sure he gets to that in the evening, and just stay with Dazai this morning. “Does he live here? In Yokohama?”

“At the cemetery. By the Port.”

Kunikida almost replies, wondering which neighborhood that is exactly, but his stomach drops once he realizes what Dazai is saying.

Oh.

He's visiting a grave.

Somehow, all of this makes sense, now.

…

Kunikida lets Dazai take his time. Of course, he’s not going to rush him out of the dorm room to go see his friend’s headstone, but he’s moving much slower than normal this morning anyway. Kunikida dries his hair and gives him a change of clothes as he cooks some rice for him to eat, even if it’s only a few bites. He argues, hopes he’ll win, but Kunikida manages to get him to eat at least half of it.

“You go here every Sunday?” Kunikida asks him as they approach the cemetery, now within their sight. Dazai’s been relatively normal on the trip there. It was only a stop away on the train station and a few blocks of walking, but still, he seems much more like himself, he’s realizing now, though, that he was simply trying to distract himself.

“Every Sunday,” he confirms, the tone of his voice now changed. He sounds far away, living some past memory, but his voice holds the same texture of when he was trying his eyes out last night. Kunikida chews his lip.

He’s not sure how he never noticed this tradition of his, either, unless this death was recent. Dazai’s never around on Sundays but he’s never clear about his plans either. He’ll say anything from he’s getting a coffee to he’s planning on overthrowing the government, if he threw in a I’m visiting my dead friend, Kunikida would have thought nothing of it.

Atsushi’s mentioned finding him at a cemetery before, once, when Dazai failed to show up to an emergency meeting. But even then, Kunikida never thought he was there to visit someone.

Dazai slows down as they make it to the entrance, and Kunikida makes it further ahead of him before he realizes he’s stopped. He’s turned away from the direction of the sea, almost looking like he’s holding his breath. Kunikida decides if he should ask him if they should turn around before Dazai brings a hand up to his mouth.

"Dazai, are you - " Kunikida starts, but Dazai is already bent over with a hand on his stomach, throwing up onto the sidewalk before Kunikida can finish his question. “Shit.”

Kunikida curses, laying a hand on Dazai's back. Dazai probably assumed the rice would come right back up anyway, that’s no doubt why he was refusing to eat, but Kunikida wonders if it has something to do with the nerves of where they are right now. But certainly, he wouldn’t react like this every Sunday?

“I’m fine,” Dazai breathes out, spitting up the rest of what’s in his mouth into the small puddle at his feet. It’s not much, but he didn’t have near anything in his stomach to begin with. He looks even worse, now. Kunikida wants him to sit down and drink some damn water.

Kunikida keeps his hand on Dazai’s back as he straightens up and tries to take in a steady breath. Kunikida is almost certain he’s going to throw up again, but he manages to pull himself together enough to continue on to the cemetery gates.

Dazai snakes his hand into Kunikida’s and squeezes it, hard. Kunikida squeezes it back as Dazai leads him to a gravestone, right underneath the tree on the far side of the cemetery.

S. Oda.

Reading the same sends a chill up his spine and he can’t explain why. Kunikida's never heard Dazai mention this person before, not even unnamed. A friend. Dazai doesn't seem like the type to have friends at all, not outside of work.

Whoever he was, he must have been very important to Dazai, to affect him like this.

And the longer Kunikida stands there beside Dazai and stares, the faster he starts to realize that the date of death on the headstone was yesterday's date.

"You should've said something," Kunikida sighs quietly as Dazai slips his hand out of Kunikida’s grip.

"I have a friend who I've never told you about who died in my arms four years ago yesterday. There," Dazai says. It's incredibly nonchalant, something he's trying to pass off as a joke, but Kunikida can hear the pain in his voice. He can feel it.

It must have been an awful death, to break down Dazai like that.

Dazai kneels right in front of the headstone and lays his forehead against the cold marble. He chokes back a sob, evidently, completely incapable of holding himself together. It hurts him so much. He can’t fathom what could have happened. Dazai’s completely broken by this.

Kunikida can't just sit there and watch. He kneels beside him, a little further back. He wants to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he hesitates, and takes his hand again to squeeze it hard instead.

“I'm sorry,” Dazai mumbles quietly, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hand. “I think…he would've loved working at the Agency.”

“You think so?” Kunikida asks. Four years ago would have been someone in the Port Mafia with Dazai, Kunikida is fairly certain.

“He would've…he would've deserved it more than I do, Kunikida,” Dazai tells him, a few teardrops landing in the earth right in front of the headstone. He’s getting that look in his eyes again, like he’s somewhere else.

Kunikida bites his lip. “Don't say things like that, Dazai.”

“Maybe…maybe if he found him instead of me, then…then they both would've…” Dazai murmurs, and Kunikida starts to worry, because he's not making much sense. He’s not sure who he’s talking about. “but then Atsushi…what about…”

“Hey,” Kunikida starts, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I don't know what happened to your friend, but no matter how things ended for him, there's nothing you can do to change the past.”

Dazai’s shoulders tense up. Kunikida worries he's having the opposite of the desired effect, but there’s nothing he can do to guess what Dazai could possibly be thinking. 

Dazai lifts his head off of the stone, a little too quickly, it seems, because his whole body slumps forward and he smacks his forehead into it before Kunikida can stop him. He holds his shoulders to move him off the stone and he seems to have come back to him already. Kunikida steadies him and makes sure he gets a good look at his face. He still looks dizzy. "You're dehydrated."

"Mm," Dazai huffs. He doesn't seem to care. He rubs the part of his forehead that smacked against the stone and groans.

"Let's take you to Yosano,” Kunikida insists, taking Dazai’s hand and helping him off the ground. He’s really concerned. All of this is very out of the ordinary for him. He wants to take him somewhere he can rest for a few hours, at least.

"I'm okay, Kunikida,” Dazai mumbles, his eyes still pointed down at the headstone. He’s not crying anymore, but he's certainly not all there.

"Like hell you are, Dazai," he huffs, reaching out to lay a hand under his chin and point his face up to look at Kunikida. He looks like a sad, wet cat. "She could get some fluids in you, at least."

"I don't like needles," he murmurs. His eyes drop back down to the ground.

“I know you don’t, but you just fainted because you’re so dehydrated. And I don’t think you have any interest in drinking water right now,” Kunikida says with a deep sigh. Dazai doesn’t argue, but he leans forward to lay his forehead on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida holds him, one arm around his back and the other on his head, for as long as Dazai needs him to. He knows a lot of what Dazai shows him on a regular basis is a front, a disguise, he’s learned that after many years of working with him - but to see it completely torn down like this breaks his heart.

After a while, Kunikida leads him out of the cemetery. Dazai doesn’t object. He keeps his arm around Kunikida, his eyes on the ground in front of him, not lifting his head. Kunikida lets him. He plans to walk the two of them to the Agency, which isn’t more than a fifteen-minute walk. He knows Yosano is there today, even though it’s closed - it’s when she catches up. He can at least have her look him over.

The Motomachi shopping structure starts to come into view as Dazai starts to lift his head a little and slip his arm out of Kunikida’s. There’s more people around here now, and he can already see Dazai start to mask on, even around people he doesn’t know, people he’ll never meet.

Kunikida feels Dazai’s hand slip out of his grip, and he worries for a moment before he hears a voice coming from behind them.

"Dazai? Kunikida?"

It's Atsushi, Kunikida realizes upon turning around. 

"What're you guys doing here?" Atsushi asks. He’s by himself, it looks like.

"Work," Kunikida answers simply, trying to avoid any tough conversation for Dazai. He doesn’t think Atsushi will ask any questions beyond that. "And you? Are you by yourself?"

"Kyoka's in the bakery over there. But I saw you guys from the window and wanted to say hi," Atsushi says, but the smile on his face fades as soon as his eyes peer over to Dazai, who, no matter how much he's trying to fake it, still looks miserable. "Are…you okay, Dazai?"

"Oh, I'm fine. You know. Hungover," he jokes, but he still doesn’t sound like himself, no matter how hard he’s trying. Kunikida supposes the hangover bit might be partially true.

"You really should stop drinking so much," Atsushi scolds. Kunikida mirrors that sentiment, mentally, but he thinks Dazai probably has a much bigger problem than they can address with scolding.

"Mmm…maybe you're right," Dazai says, but it's impossible to tell if he's going to take that to heart or not. Kunikida is going to guess, likely not.

"Me and Kyoka were going to try out this new tea house. It’s like, a block over," Atsushi tells them, gesturing in the general direction. "Would you guys wanna come?"

"Hm. We're pretty busy with work," Kunikida lies, but he's trying to give Dazai an out in case he needs one. "Dazai?"

"We should go. Tea's good," he says simply with a shy-looking smile.

Kunikida's heart melts. Atsushi looks a little suspicious. Certainly, Kunikida would never let Dazai decide if they were going to work or not. Maybe he’s not covering their tracks as good as he thinks they are.

"Alright. We'll come."

"Why are you guys working, anyway? We're closed today," Atsushi says, turning around and leading them towards the bakery down the street, where Kyoka is, presumably.

“Just something the president asked us to take on,” Kunikida explains. “Classified, though.”

“Uh-huh…”

He’s not buying it, but he doesn’t press on. Kunikida’s relieved.

Once they meet Kyoka, the tea house isn’t far at all, and in the direction of the Agency anyway. Kunikida still plans to take Dazai to Yosano afterwards, but he thinks this is a good idea. Tea would definitely do him some good, if he’s willing to drink it.

He doesn’t last long at all, though. He only takes a few sips of what Kunikida had ordered, claiming he would decide from there, before he sneaks off to the bathroom. Kunikida say the nausea on his face, though, that green tinge, his hand over his stomach. He can’t keep anything down right now. He really needs to see Yosano.

“Do you think he’s sick, Kunikida?” Atsushi asks, concern written all over his face. He knows something’s going on.

“He might be. I need Yosano to take a look at him,” he says with a shaky sigh, already having finished sending her a text that they would be on their way over very soon. He’ll flag down a taxi to get them there. It’s not far, but he doesn’t think Dazai should be doing any more activity than he needs to.

When Dazai comes back, looking even worse than before with three concerned faces staring at him, his shoulders sink. Kunikida thinks that he can’t possibly believe he wouldn’t get caught.

“I’ll meet you guys there after we pay,” Atsushi tells them, and Kunikida thanks him. He’ll send him money to cover the bill later. He takes Dazai by the arm and leads him outside. He’s hoping he can get him feeling a little better soon.

…

Atsushi gets to the agency about an hour later, so worried about Dazai that his stomach hurts because of it. Something’s not right, he could tell that as soon as he saw the two of them in the street. Sure, he’s certainly sick with something, but he’s too quiet. He looks sad. That’s just not something he ever sees on Dazai’s face.

He makes it up to the Agency floor. Kyoka decided to go back to the dorms, so it’s just him, and no one but Yosano, Kunikida or Dazai should be in the office. The door to the infirmary is open, but he hears something coming from the office couch.

Dazai sounds like he's gagging again.

He carefully wanders over, not seeing any sign of Yosano behind the partition, it’s just Kunikida and Dazai - he’s curled up on the couch, his arm attached to a fluid line. Kunikida is in the middle of laying a blanket over him and holding a trash bin under his chin. Atsushi wonders why Dazai isn’t in the infirmary instead, but he does like this couch. Maybe he’s just more comfortable here.

Atsushi knows something must be wrong with him if Kunikida of all people is being so kind and gentle with him. Laying a blanket over him just can't be something he'd do for no reason.

Dazai spits up something into the bin before Kunikida lowers the bin. He groans and curls up in on himself again. He doesn't look good at all. Atsushi isn't sure if he's sick or not, but even if he is, it's concerning.

"He's having a hard time today, Atsushi. Don’t bother him too much," Kunikida says sternly, quietly, before he disappears into he infirmary. He hears him and Yosano faintly chattering about something, but the sound is lost on him as he focuses on Dazai’s miserable form.

Atsushi sits on the couch opposite of Dazai for a minute, watching him. Dazai knows he’s there, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes are on the floor. His breathing looks off, like it’s a conscious effort every time. He’s pale and he looks terribly nauseous. Atsushi feels guilty. He wouldn’t have offered for them to come if he knew he stomach was bothering him this much.

"Are you okay, Dazai?" he asks meekly, even though he knows the answer. It's a stupid question to ask, really. Dazai’s eyes finally dart up to meet Atsushi’s.

"I'm always okay," he says. The most non-answer possible.

“You don’t look okay,” Atsushi tells him with a little pout. He’s seen Dazai hungover before, it’s never, ever this bad. The worst it does it make him complain and give him a headache.

Dazai sighs quietly. "Just…missing a friend."

"A friend?" Atsushi asks, scooting up a little further. Dazai doesn’t ever talk about friends. "Why don't you go see them?"

"I saw him this morning."

Atsushi’s heart sinks as he puts all of the pieces together. He’s seen Dazai’s friend before, too. He and Kunikida were coming from that direction before Atsushi met them today. “Your friend in the cemetery?”

Dazai nods slowly.

“I'm sorry, Dazai,” Atsushi says quietly. Dazai shifts his body so that he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “He must’ve been really important to you.”

"He's the reason I left the Port Mafia," Dazai says gently. “I wouldn’t…be here without him.”

Atsushi gives him a halfway smile. It’s not often that Dazai ever opens up about anything. Maybe it’s how he’s feeling, maybe he’s just deep enough in his thoughts to let his guard down, but Atsushi’s thankful that he’s shared that with him.

“I’m glad you knew him, then. Even if…even if you wished you knew him longer. He changed your life, right?” Atsushi says. He can’t part much wisdom to Dazai, someone who seems to know everything, but Dazai turns his head to look at Atsushi. It’s a warm expression on his face. Atsushi can’t tell what he’s thinking at all.

“Right, Atsushi.”