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#let alone know there was a DEADLINE
yourdeepestfathoms · 2 years
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Glitchtrap has witnessed Vanessa break down sobbing because of college before. not because of classes, but because she forgot to accept the award that would give her financial aid.
“WHY are you making so much RACKET?!”
“i forgot— i forgot to— i forgot to accept the award given to me for my financial aid for this semester, and now i might not be able to go to school! that’s $21K down the drain, Mr. Afton! i can’t afford to get my classes without it!”
literally, wailing. crying so hard she’s stammering and can’t speak. barely fucking breathing.
and Glitchtrap is just there like 🐇
she won’t shut up, too overcome with panic and stress and self-hatred for forgetting something so important. Glitchtrap finally gets fed up with her weeping and goes into the database to fix the issue himself. he doesn’t do it out of the kindness of his heart, but because her crying is giving him a headache—and he doesn’t even technically have a physical head!
“there! i fixed your fucking problem! now will you PLEASE stop crying?!”
“you— you fixed it?”
“yes. you got the stupid aid so you can do your stupid classes. now SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
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danikatze · 10 hours
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[ID in alt text]
Another wip! It's kind of almost done :)
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halfdeadwallfly · 1 year
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i'm genuinely starting to worry about failing some of my classes
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the-yearning-astronaut · 10 months
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#tbd#☉#lemme start by prefacing this with I KNOW there's no real normal way to be human#ok i get that#but fucking HELL I wish i was normal#i wish my health was normal for my age#i wish i wasn't fucking. neurodivergent#im fine with being queer but ffs why am i in between normal queer and accepted Aroace-ness#why am i abnormal in that regard too#i wish I didn't alienate people i wish i didn't have to explain why im extra quiet and moody and minutes from a meltdown#i wish my hands and feet wouldn't swell up and hurt and burn and I wish i could take a fucking shower without feeling dread#because i had the water temp set to hot and now im dizzy and my heart is racing and im overheating -- alternatively I wish#i didn't feel so self conscious because i DONT shower every day or even every other day like i dont like when my hair goes limp either!#and i use deodorant everyday and wipe off when i can but i have fuckin Let's Sweat Buckets For No Reason Disorder so i always look and feel#like a drowned rat. im tired of being tired but not being able to sleep. im tired of not being able to explain that yes its really not you#its me. me wanting to be alone has nothing to do with you ok its my brain deciding to fuckin shut down because everything is too much rn#& idk how to tell you that im at my wits end but if you treat me with kidd gloves i WILL go off like a fuckin bomb. just treat me NORMAL ffs#just treat me normal 😭 i just want to be normal. i want to be able to sit down and just do my application stuff instead of#staring at a blank document for weeks and then wanting to throw things as the deadline approaches (#its due friday and i have absolutely nothing written lmao) and idk if its executive dysfunction or anxiety or my tendancey to self sabotage#but either way im so fuckin fucked. im NOT in the headspace rn for writing a graduate school application letter.#trying hard not to cry rn bcs my friend and her parents are sleeping already bcs they have a 9-5 sleeping schedule to fit their 9-5 jobs#like i dont even have a normal sleeping schedule lmao mine's 2-10. i just don't understand why im so broken or whatever. not normal.#& i feel bad for bitching about it all bcs objectively i have a pretty decent life. i have a home i have food i have a family that loves me#im just back to feeling like im too much and also not enough and im so fuckin lonely. im tired of feeling lonely. and i think#ive got a platonic crush or two. or something. and idk how to handle that anymore. if i ever did.#idk idk i feel like im back to looking at the world and passersby through frosted glass again.
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woahajimes · 1 year
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i hate tumblr new format. alsooo whatd i miss
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livvyofthelake · 2 years
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they really need to invent a professor that teaches law that is forgiving and kind. idk.
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starpros-sunshine · 6 months
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I exist in this weird personality limbo where i somehow have so little sense of an individual self that that over time warped into. whatever this is. I have something going on here i'm sure but I am 99% sure that it's either indescribable or just very difficult to define beyond "Nice with an interesting sense of humour"
#talked to someone today and all I could think about after was how off that felt#the whole experience I mean#not the person I like the person#I was meant to sit alone in a room and do my own thing honestly that's what life keeps signaling to me#but I like being with people is the issue I enjoy being out and about it's a change of something it feels like the normal thing to do#i mean what normal teens get up to and all that it doesn't feel very normal to me but you understand#I enjoy doing stuff i can talk about afterwards is all I mean#but at the same time it's very...like...I know if I behaved off protocol right now you would not enjoy me#I have nothing of relevance to say I have a lot of half-knowledge nobody can actually do anything with#I'm a little dull but it works for me so i don't mind#but on protocol is literally just basic curtesy rules and polite behaviour thats. well. nice.#people say they enjoy talking to me but I dont think a lot of them really do i think they just think I'm pleasant company because I'm polit#and don't really have a set opinion#but again it works for me#I do wonder sometimes if people can sense that#that I'm not all there I mean#i wouldn't want to seem like I don't care I do kind of I don't like the thought of getting very attached to people but it's nice#to have something like friends I mean#or rather people you get along with very well#It's just a bit of a strange experience is all#boy I'm going way out of my comfort zone here with the introspection sebastian sir since when were we so willing to self reflect#that sounds wrong it's not like i have a problem with that#ahhh I need to do my art thing....#sigh the deadline is tomorrow and I am not done yet it's 11pm and -i have to get out early tomorrow#I just want to sleep#and then sleep in. let me have my twelve hours of cozy in bed time :/
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foone · 2 years
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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gorejo · 1 year
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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au
synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.
content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.
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The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.
“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror. 
“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.
Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.
“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.
“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment. 
“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.  
“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.  
It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.
College reunions, who looks forward to that? 
There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel. 
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.
One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project. 
Poor kid was fired the next day.
The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened. 
No wonder it was so fucking loud that night. 
Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital. 
Never in hell were you going to show up alone. 
And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.
&lt;< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!! 
Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.
Maybe it was an excuse? 
Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it? 
But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world. 
Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”
Was that already eight years ago? 
But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…
… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.
“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.
Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.
Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.
“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.
“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”
“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”
“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”
“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.
“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging. 
“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”
“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.
“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed. 
Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?” 
“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.
“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off. 
“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.
“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”
“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”
“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back. 
“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?” 
“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.
“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.
Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”
“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”
“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.
But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”
“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”
“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”
“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.
“You think so?” 
“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”
“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers. 
“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.
“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”
Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”
“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression
“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.
“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.
“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.
“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”
Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”
Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.
“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.
“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.
“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.
“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”
Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”
Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat. 
“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko, 
<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.  
Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”
— 
Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours. 
They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.
But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.
Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career. 
He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish. 
When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied. 
“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam. 
With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.
And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl. 
Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”
“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”
“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”
“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes. 
“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”
“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”
“Yea, why so?”
“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!” 
Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you. 
For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you. 
Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number. 
And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.
“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”
All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes. 
But with him, you experienced all your firsts.
Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled,  “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream. 
You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day. 
Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?” 
Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you. 
Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity. 
To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.
He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart. 
Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.
You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him. 
So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it. 
And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.
From: Mom.
>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled. 
To: Minako.
<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako? 
From: Minako.
>> Whenever! I can meet now!
>> Is this about our potential engagement?
To Minako.
<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.
You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.
The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.
You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”
how long was this going on for? 
Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?
Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved? 
Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?
The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.
... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day. 
Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”
“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.
The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb. 
After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”
Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.
“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”
“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”
“Says who?” the man challenged. 
“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”
“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.
"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking. 
“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”
“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.
“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”
Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.
After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him. 
To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience. 
To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.
—-
“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head. 
Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.
You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl. 
Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him. 
But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.
Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way  —
Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor. 
“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?” 
You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice. 
Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered. 
“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving. 
You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.
“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.
Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week. 
“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.
Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws. 
Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.
You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs. 
“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?” 
“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot. 
A ring? you wondered.  
“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.
“Had no excuse not to come.”
“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”
“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.
Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”
Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes. 
Since when did he have that ring? 
Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.
Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —
“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.
“What?” you whispered.
“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”
Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”
Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.   
Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”
“What are you talking —” you stammered.
“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat. 
“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.
“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”
“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?
“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”
“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.
“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.
All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong. 
“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.
“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”
“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”
"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.
"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.
"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"
" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.
"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.
"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"
“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?” 
“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.
“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.
“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.
His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"
“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.
You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore… 
“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.
The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.
“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair,  his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.
“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.
“… I love you,” you confessed.
Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”
...
You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.
Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.
Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.
“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.
Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring
“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.
“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again. 
“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.
“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.
Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.
Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile. 
And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.
“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you. 
Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."
At least for this night, he was yours. 
You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.
And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip. 
Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed? 
“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.
“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.
“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.
"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.
“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum. 
His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.
Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.
“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”
You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.  
“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.
And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”
“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.
“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.
“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured. 
“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head. 
Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.
Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.
“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.
Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.
“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.
“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.
… 
How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago. 
“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?” 
Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.
“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”
Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.
“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”
“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.
“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”
“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.
“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.
Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.
"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."
"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.
“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.
“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”
Seven.
He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,
“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out. 
You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.
“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.
“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.
"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms. 
—-
Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.
Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.
Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.
Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.
His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.
His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.
Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing. 
Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.  
Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night. 
“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.
“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.
You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.
And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,
“I’m sorry…”
—- 
It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel. 
You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.
Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.
You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.
You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.
You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.
And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,
“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”
“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.
Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.
You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish. 
But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.
Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.
Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.
Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?
“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.
Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.
“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.
“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”
“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked
“Well, she did ask about us."
“And… did she threaten you or anything?”
“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled. 
Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."
And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.
“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.
“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.
"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”
"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.
"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."
“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.
“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.
“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.
“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”
Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”
“B-but you came late to the reunion.”
“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.
“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.
“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."
"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."
"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”
“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.
“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.
“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.
“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”
"I'd like that," you whispered.
“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.
“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”
“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.
“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes. 
And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,
“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”
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author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells
again, i hope you enjoyed it!!
p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:
10K notes · View notes
thebunnednun · 11 days
Text
Overworked
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Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader
Summary: Life is shit and Katsuki finds out you lied to him about taking care of yourself.
And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.
I wrote this for my friend @elarakive, she's been going through it so please give her some love y'all.
WC: 16,709
On with the show!!~
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“I should’ve become a stripper in Miami.”
You staggered into your apartment, your body and mind exhausted from the endless cycle of school and work. The clock ticked mercilessly as you rushed to grab your work bag and change. Your commute home took about 20 minutes today, and there was barely enough time to catch your breath, let alone eat.
Sighing, you kicked off your shoes quickly before rushing into your small, cluttered room, your shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. The relentless cycle of school and work had left you in a mental fog, and the ticking clock seemed to mock your frantic rush. You had barely an hour to spare before your next shift, and the minutes slipped through your fingers like sand.
With trembling hands, you fumbled through your work bag, grabbing the essentials as you hurriedly changed into your work uniform. The sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror was a stark reminder of how far gone you were—dark circles under your eyes, hair a disheveled mess, and a look of defeat that you couldn’t quite hide. 
‘Fuck it, we ball with the consealer today.’
Rushing to the bathroom, you hurriedly adjusted your makeup in the bathroom mirror, the smudged eyeliner and messy foundation reflecting the chaos of your life. Every moment felt like a race against time as you dabbed concealer under your eyes, trying to mask the fatigue that had become your constant companion. 
You had to look good while in class. You have to look good at work so you can make those big bucks to pay for things that ultimately make you feel sick everytime you think about it. Like your rent, the car, the utilities, tuition payments, groceries, laundry supplies, toiletpaper, pads/tampons. Also Tynolonal because your little dehydrated ass kept getting migraines that you ironically didn’t take because you still wanted a working liver. 
In the midst of your chaotic routine, your phone buzzed with a notification: an unexpected double shift for the week. Your heart sank as you read the message. When you finally got a weekend off, it was swallowed up by studying, cleaning, and chores. Sleep was becoming a rare luxury, and your mental fog seemed to thicken with each passing day.
At work, the pressure has been relentless. Your manager's latest demand to pull full shifts this week felt like the last straw. As you stared at your schedule, the weight of it all crashed down on you. You wanted to cry, but you couldn't afford to break down—not with your job hanging in the balance. The only time you had to eat was during your brief lunch break at work, which you barely managed to find time for.
It felt like there was no end to the mounting responsibilities, and the weekend you’d managed to carve out for yourself was swallowed up by endless studying, chores, and barely enough sleep to keep you functional.
In the cramped kitchen, you grabbed a quick bite, your meal consisting of whatever was quickest to prepare. (A literal slice of bread.) The clock continued its relentless ticking, and you knew you were cutting it close. The idea of collapsing into bed, even for just a moment, was a sinfully tempting dream.
As you raced to gather your things, your mind was a jumble of deadlines and schedules. You barely noticed when your cell rang with its familiar “Kiss me through the phone!” ringtone to indicate that your boyfriend was calling. 
‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡   is calling…..’
Heart fluttering, you nearly dropped the concealer wand on your blank uniform polo to snatch your phone off the counter and hit answer. 
“Damn it, what’s going on with you?” Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze of your stress, his usual bravado softened by genuine worry as the video connected. 
“You look like you’re about to drop.”
You paused, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze. “Just… busy,” you managed to say, trying to muster a weak smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “This ain’t just busy. You’re running yourself ragged. What the hell are ya doing to yourself?”
With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the phone and tucked it into the front of your bra, the slight pressure reminding you that you needed to hurry. Balancing your phone precariously, you snatched up your work bag and keys, your hands clumsy with the rush. Your fingers were already cold from the constant running around, and you fought the urge to drop everything as you made your way to the car.
The engine roared to life as you slid into the driver’s seat and connected your phone to the Bluetooth system. Katsuki’s voice crackled through the speakers, a gruff but familiar comfort amidst the car noises. 
“Hey, you there?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you replied, blowing a raspberry into the phone. The sound was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you could almost hear Katsuki’s brow raise as he responded.
“You sound outta breath. What’s the deal?”
You chuckled softly, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Just the usual,” you said, your eyes darting between the road and the clock on the dashboard. “Running late, trying to get everything done. It’s been a mess.”
Katsuki’s voice grew more insistent. “Are ya eating properly? Getting enough sleep? You know, ya need to take care of yourself.”
You huffed, trying to focus on the road while keeping up with the conversation. “I’m eating, sleep is a luxury right now. I’m managing, Katsuki.”
His voice softened, though it still carried an edge of concern. “That’s not an answer, you know. You sound like you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out.”
You adjusted the car’s air conditioning, the cool breeze a slight relief against the heat of your exhaustion. “I’m fine. Just got a lot on my plate. You know how it is.”
“Well, if you say so,” Katsuki said, though the worry in his tone was evident. “Just make sure you’re not running on empty. I want to see you in one piece when I get back.”
The call ended as you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace. You felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside as you grabbed your work bag and keys, the day ahead looming large.
“I’m in the parking lot. So I’ll call you when I get out, okay?”
“ ‘S fine with me.”
“K, bye.”
You blew a smooch into the phone and quickly hung up before you could cry. It’s not like you wanted to lie to Katsuki. Your boyfriend was THE human lie detector and hated liars. But you also didn’t want to worry him while he was out on missions. But alas, those were all thoughts for later as you gently turned off the car and put your game face on before getting out the car and making your way towards the building. 
💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥
Your shift at work was as rough as you’d anticipated. Your manager was insistent about you picking up extra hours, their voice rising in frustration over minor issues. Customers were grumpy, complaints frequent, and the constant flow of tasks left you feeling drained. 
The office felt like a maze of gray cubicles and muted tones, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. As you sat at your desk, the familiar clutter of technical documents and graphic layouts surrounded you. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of printer ink. You rubbed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips as you pushed through another round of proofreading.
Just then, your phone buzzed, and you fumbled to pull it from your drawer, glancing at the screen to see a message from Masha in HR. It was a reminder about the formal complaint you needed to submit to get your overdue salary processed. You frowned, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.
“Another thing to deal with,” you muttered, tapping out a quick response before setting the phone aside. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, drafting the formal complaint with a precision that belied your growing exhaustion. Every keystroke felt like an effort, each sentence a struggle to convey the frustration and urgency of your situation.
The clock ticked slowly, its rhythmic ticking amplifying the silence of the office as colleagues murmured and typed away in their own bubbles. You glanced at the pile of papers on your desk—technical documents, project briefs, and some rough sketches for graphics that you’d been tasked with. The contrast between your university days, filled with creative media projects and dynamic video production, and this monotonous office job was striking. 
You missed the excitement of storytelling and visual creation, but here you were, grinding away for the paycheck that barely seemed worth the effort right now.
Rent was due next week, and the thought of it gnawed at your mind. You tapped your pen nervously against the desk, trying to suppress the mounting anxiety. Your minimal savings were earmarked for tuition, and borrowing money from anyone, let alone Katsuki, was not an option you wanted to consider. The last thing you needed was for him to find out and make a fuss about it, turning your personal financial troubles into a point of contention.
As you took a deep breath and hit ‘send’ on the formal complaint, the stress of the past few weeks seemed to coalesce into a single, throbbing headache. Your hands were trembling slightly as you reached for the small, lukewarm cup of coffee on your desk, the caffeine offering a temporary, hollow comfort.
“Hey, can you cover this layout for me?” your colleague, Jenna, asked as she leaned over your cubicle wall. Her voice was chipper, a sharp contrast to the mental fog you were drowning in.
“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile as you accepted the additional task. Your mind drifted to the weekend, a distant hope of relaxation and a momentary escape from the whirlwind of deadlines and obligations. But even that felt out of reach as you buried yourself in work, hoping that somewhere amidst the chaos, a solution would present itself.
The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock a relentless reminder of how quickly time was slipping away. As the workday dragged on, your thoughts constantly circled back to your financial situation and how you might manage to cover rent without dipping into your savings or burdening anyone else. The weight of it all felt almost unbearable, and you silently wished for a moment of reprieve.
💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥
Finally, with mercy, your shift finally ended, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by exhaustion. You shuffled out of the office, your steps heavy and laden with fatigue.
The breakroom coffee you’d chugged was doing its best to keep you awake, but the jolt of caffeine did little to ease the sleepy buzz that had settled over you.
Your drive home was a blur, punctuated only by the occasional beep of your car’s dashboard and the monotonous hum of the engine. When you finally pulled into your parking spot, a sense of dread washed over you as you fished out your phone to check the latest update on your pay. The notification confirmed what you feared: your salary wouldn’t be processed for another week.
A gasp of frustration and disbelief escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space of your car. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel, barely containing the urge to scream. The crushing weight of bills, looming deadlines, and the crushing reality of your financial situation finally broke through your walls of composure. Tears sprang to your eyes, spilling over as you let the frustration and sadness flow freely.
The emotional release was almost too much to bear, and as the tears flowed, the inside of your car’s windows fogged up, the steamy haze blurring your vision. You cracked the windows slightly, hoping to let some of the oppressive heat and steam escape. 
As the cool air started to seep in, you caught sight of Katsuki’s footprints on your windshield—evidence of the time he’d spent with his dogs on your dashboard, walking them around while you were driving. The sight of his footprint, a tangible reminder of his absence, made your heart ache even more.
The memory of him removing his footing while you had been driving around, convinced you’d seen a turtle on the side of the road, flashed through your mind.
Turns out it was a really moldy round rock and while you wanted to keep it, Katsuki made you leave the so-called “turtle,” which he’d dismissed as a weird rock, insisting it might be cursed and, “I don’t fuck with no spooky shit.” The thought of his spiky but playful protective nature contrasted sharply with the weight of your current situation.
Your mascara had bled and smeared, leaving dark streaks on your cheeks. You fumbled for tissues in the glove compartment—another thoughtful gift from Katsuki. With shaking hands, you dabbed at your face, trying to clean up the smudged makeup and regain some semblance of composure. 
But fuck the tissues because you wanted Katuski to wipe your tears, not Puffs with lotion. 
Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your work bag and keys from the passenger seat. Despite the fact that you had no classes tomorrow—a silver lining provided by Mrs. Yamada’s decision to cancel due to the pleasant weather—you felt an emotional heaviness. You forced yourself to get out of the car, each step toward the building feeling like a mile.
The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet, solitary journey. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing thoughts. When the elevator doors finally opened, you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, each footfall echoing your exhaustion and frustration.
You reached your door and, with a tired sigh, unlocked it and stepped inside. The familiar, quiet space of your apartment was both a refuge and a reminder of everything you were trying to manage. The world outside was still bustling, but here, in this small sanctuary, you could finally let down your guard.
Letting out another deep breath as you took in the comforting but humble surroundings. Your mind wandered to the weekend ahead, hoping for some respite and relaxation despite everything else. For now, you allowed yourself a moment to just be, to acknowledge the fucked up situation you were in and space out before you would have to be an active adult again. 
You slid down against the door, exhaustion making every movement feel labored. The cool, hard floor felt oddly comforting against your back as you contemplated the idea of slipping off your shoes and socks and crawling straight into bed. Your tired eyes were barely open when an unexpected, tantalizing scent wafted through the air, making you blink in confusion.
The smell was warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cozy autumn walks you take with Katsuki. The memory of him lifting you onto his shoulders while you collected pinecones, playfully biting your ankles when you took “too long” to pick out your favorites, made you smile through your tears. The scent brought a fleeting sense of comfort, but the question of who had been in your apartment and left it smelling so fresh and pleasant nagged at the back of your mind.
You pushed yourself up, the weariness making your movements slow and deliberate. As you wandered further into your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disbelief. Your living space, which had been cluttered and messy, was now impeccably clean, as if it had been professionally cleaned. The familiar scent of pine and a hint of something else filled the air, wrapping around you like a warm, fragrant embrace.
Shaking off the disorientation, you followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen. Your eyes widened as you saw a pot of rice and another pot of rich, spicy beef and vegetable stew cooling on the stove. The sight was almost surreal—your kitchen, which had been a chaotic mess just hours before, was now a haven of culinary comfort. The thought of someone cooking for you, despite your exhaustion, brought a mix of relief and confusion.
‘What the fuck?!’
You blinked once, twice, harshly, trying to process the scene before you. With a mixture of curiosity and wariness, you padded softly back to the living room, hoping to make sense of the situation. The only light on was the soft glow of the lamp in the bathroom, casting a warm, clean light across the hallway and into your living room. The air was still, save for the faint sound of shuffling coming from your bedroom.
Heart racing, you moved toward the sound, each step slow and cautious. The clean scent from the bathroom lingered, and you couldn’t help but notice how fresh and tidy it now seemed. You glanced back at the living room, which, in contrast to your earlier mess, now looked immaculate and inviting.
Heart pounding, you crept down the hallway, each step slow and deliberate. The freshly cleaned scent in the air did nothing to ease your anxiety. The apartment was spotless—too spotless. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe Michael had come back early and done this as a surprise? Or maybe Shoto, Izuku, or Jirou had somehow managed to sneak in, tidy everything, and leave without telling you. 
After all, only Michael, Kirishima, and Shoto or Izuku had keys to your place in case of emergencies.
But Katsuki? He was out of state. He wouldn’t be back for a while, and even if he had sent one of those cleaning services, they were always in and out in less than 30 minutes. 
This... this wasn’t right.
Your gaze darted toward the door. The shuffling sound from your bedroom had stopped. Panic began to settle in, a rising tension that had you frozen on the spot. You considered calling for help, but your phone was still on the floor by your purse, forgotten in the rush of trying to figure out what was happening. You didn’t want to lose the element of surprise.
With a nervous breath, you reached for the flower vase sitting on the narrow hallway table. The roses inside were fresh, their deep crimson petals just beginning to open up. You mentally apologized to them as you dumped the flowers onto the floor, water splashing around the vase. Your hands moved swiftly, reaching inside for the TTI Glock 34 hidden beneath the stems. The cold metal felt heavier than usual in your hand, but you weren’t about to hesitate. 
You weren’t going to die in your own apartment—not like this.
Holding your breath, you stalked closer to the bathroom. You could hear the faint echo of your heart beating in your ears. Quietly, with practiced precision, you closed the door behind you without letting it click, trapping the scent of cleanliness inside. There was no turning back now. The apartment had become unfamiliar, and whoever or whatever was in your room needed to be dealt with.
You crept toward the bedroom, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you got closer. The shifting sounds had stopped. Whoever it was, they were still inside. You crouched, gun in hand, every muscle tensed as you approached the door. Then, without warning, the door to your bedroom swung open with a loud
"BAM!"
The sound reverberated through the walls as darkness loomed before you. Instinct took over.
You fired two quick shots into the void, the deafening bangs ringing in your ears. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows, revealing nothing but an empty room. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into the stillness. 
Silence.
"Fuck this!" you muttered under your breath, adrenaline kicking into high gear.
Without thinking twice, you bolted down the hallway. Your feet were heavy, thudding against the carpet as you ran, and the door to your apartment swung open behind you. You burst into the dimly lit hallway, the dingy orange carpet and faded yellow lighting never looking so welcoming. The familiar smell of old apartments and chipped paint wrapped around you as you sprinted toward the elevator.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs pumping as fast as they could. Most of your neighbors were either still at work or too old to have heard the gunshots, but there was no way you were sticking around to find out. You slapped the elevator button, glancing nervously back down the hallway.
You stood in front of the doors waiting, breathless and confused, waiting for the sound of footsteps or the telltale signs of someone chasing after you. 
But… nothing. 
The air was still, almost too still, and when you turned around, your heart pounding in your throat, you saw nothing. No one was following you. No shadowy figure, no intruder, no ominous movement at all. 
Just you.
That rush of fear was starting to ebb away, replaced by an unsettling new sensation—doubt. Did you get them? The thought made your heart skip, but worse than that, another horrifying possibility crept in: 
Did you kill someone?
Your stomach dropped as if you'd just fallen from a cliff. The idea of it—of accidentally shooting someone, maybe even someone who had no intention of hurting you—was almost too much to bear.
You pressed a shaky hand against the wall, your mind racing.
What would happen if it was true? What if you had killed someone in a panic? Your knees felt weak, and the edges of your vision blurred with panic.
‘What would happen to me? What would happen to Katsuki when they found out his girlfriend had killed someone? The girlfriend of the Number 2 Pro Hero, a murderer?’
‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’
The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through you. You wanted to throw up right there in the hallway, but your stomach was so empty that all you could do was dry swallow, your mouth tasting like metal and dread. ‘What would the courts say? Would I go to jail? What would happen to Katsuki's career?’ 
Your thoughts spiraled, knotting together into an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.
You swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down. The hallway around you blurred for a second, the dim, dingy orange carpet now looking stained—like it was soaked in blood. You blinked hard, shaking your head. 
It was just the light, just your mind playing tricks on you. You forced yourself to look away from the carpet, your eyes trailing back to your apartment door. It was still ajar, spilling the warm, pale hallway light into the void of your dark apartment. The contrast was jarring—the safe, slightly worn familiarity of the hallway outside clashing with the pitch-black uncertainty inside your home.
Your home.
You pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady yourself. ‘You couldn’t leave this unfinished. If you did accidentally kill someone, you’d have to take responsibility. You had to know.’ And if it was an intruder, then, well... that was another layer of mess you'd have to deal with.
But God, you were so done.
The exhaustion from the double shifts, the lack of sleep, the unpaid bills—it all weighed you down, made your legs feel like lead as you slowly moved forward. Maybe that's why you found yourself inching toward your open door instead of running away.
Maybe that's why, instead of thinking clearly, you fumbled with your purse, your fingers shaking as you dug through it to find your phone. Instead of flicking on the light switch by the door, you opened the flashlight app, shining its weak beam into the suffocating darkness of your apartment.
The soft glow from your phone barely penetrated the void, but it was enough to make out familiar shapes—the edge of your coffee table, the corner of the couch, the faint outline of your kitchen down the hall. It almost looked normal. Almost. But something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.
And then you felt it.
Before you could even process what was happening, something hot and large clamped down around your arm. A flash of pure, raw panic shot through you, freezing your blood in your veins. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you barely had time to let out a sharp, breathless gasp before another hand—bigger, stronger—covered your mouth, smothering any scream you could’ve made.
The force of it drove you backward, your body colliding with the floor as the figure pulled you into the apartment. The scent of clean linen and something warmer filled your senses, overpowering everything else. You thrashed instinctively, your pulse roaring in your ears, but the grip on you didn’t falter. 
The hand around your mouth tightened, silencing you even as you tried to cry out.
Your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of your phone, now flickering as it dropped from your hands onto the floor. Your gun—’Where the hell was your gun?!’
It was smacked outta your hand when the figure grabbed you, and now, it was probably somewhere in the apartment, out of reach.
“Stop fuckin’ squirming,” a low voice growled against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.
The voice was familiar—so achingly familiar that your panic began to wane just enough for recognition to slip through the fog of fear. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his palm, the way his body radiated warmth even through the tension. You blinked hard, gasping into the hand that covered your mouth, your mind racing to catch up.
“Katsuki?” Your voice was muffled, barely audible against his skin.
His grip loosened a fraction, his palm sliding off your mouth just enough for you to catch a real breath. You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything. 
The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He didn’t release you right away, keeping you firmly against him, his hot breath still brushing against your ear. "The hell were you thinking? Firing like that in the dark? You could’ve fuckin’ shot me!"
You slumped against him, half in shock, half in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, your limbs still trembling, but the flood of relief that came with recognizing his voice nearly brought you to tears. He was here. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he was.
“I didn’t know it was you,” you rasped, your voice shaky as you fought to steady your breathing. “Why the hell are you sneaking around my apartment?! I thought I was gonna die!”
Katsuki’s deadpan expression barely shifted as he lifted you up and unceremoniously dropped you onto the sofa. The cushions sighed under your weight, but before you could even adjust yourself, he was already stalking across the room.
His broad back was tense, and the muscles of his arms flexed beneath his shirt as he moved with precision, a wolf-like focus in the way he carried himself.
"Okay, let’s start with this," he began, his tone rough and low, his eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder at you. “I'm glad you can defend yourself. If I was some regular asshole, I'd be dead for sure.”
You blinked at him, still in disbelief, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your heart was still pounding, your body still reeling from the shock, and yet here he was, as calm as ever. He flipped on the hallway light with a casual flick, casting a soft glow over the apartment.
“Stay,” he huffed, his voice gruff, as if you were some unruly puppy he needed to wrangle.
He moved toward the dining area, and you turned your head to follow his movements. You watched as his calloused fingers picked up your steel piece—your gun—from where it had fallen, handling it with ease.
There was no hesitation in the way he moved, no sign of the earlier chaos as he handled the weapon. It was like he had done this a thousand times before, like the situation was perfectly normal for him.
You craned your neck a little more, catching sight of him as he knelt to collect the discarded roses from the hallway floor. He carefully placed your gun back into the vase where you had originally stashed it, as if putting everything back in its proper order, like nothing had happened. His shadow moved fluidly across the walls as he did so, and the tension in the air didn’t lessen—if anything, it deepened.
And then, he turned back toward you, his face unreadable, but those vermillion eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto yours like a predator zeroing in on its prey. He didn’t say a word, not yet, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch.
The soft glow of the hallway light outlined his figure, casting sharp shadows on his jawline, the dim illumination making him look both softer and somehow more dangerous at the same time.
He stalked back over to you, each step deliberate, never once breaking eye contact. His eyes bored into yours, and you felt as though he could see through every layer of your confusion, your fear, and your relief. You tried to smile, to break the tension, but it felt weak under his unrelenting stare.
Katsuki finally stopped in front of you, his steps coming to a halt as he sat down on the coffee table across from you. The wood creaked slightly under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, his powerful body now looming closer, radiating heat and energy.
He was dressed down tonight—just a black skull t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
Casual, relaxed, almost like he had been home for a quiet night in. Yet here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He had this way of making everything else disappear when he focused on you like that, making your breath catch in your throat.
He sat there, silent, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward, making him look even more intense. His face was unreadable, and yet there was an edge to it—something simmering just below the surface, just beneath those sharp, vermillion eyes that hadn’t left yours for a second.
You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under the weight of his gaze. “Uh, hey babe?” you said, your voice weak, barely above a whisper. You tried to giggle, to play it off like you weren’t utterly rattled, but the sound died awkwardly in your throat.
Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on you, not even a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, the muscle there clenching slightly. 
He wasn’t buying it.
You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence between you stretched out, heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog settling in the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the hallway light and the ticking of the clock on the wall.
For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there—him staring at you like you’d just committed the ultimate offense, and you shrinking under the weight of it. His gaze didn’t waver, not even once, and you could feel the intensity of his thoughts even if he wasn’t saying a word.
Your hands fidgeted in your lap, fingers twisting together as the nerves bubbled up inside you. 
“Katsuki, I—” you started, but the words trailed off, your voice faltering under the scrutiny.
Katuski considers you carefully for a moment, just a moment. Before slowly rising from his spot on the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen, flicking the light on, and you hear the opening of your cabinets and your favorite mug being taken out before your tap is run. Katsuki returns, makes his way to your dining room to also turn on the lights and then to your front door that he locks before also turning on the lights. 
Then, he finally makes his way back to you and hands you the mug that you accept with both hands and he doesn’t let go until you take three small sips at first and he sets himself back down in front of you. It’s not until your fifth sip that you realize he turned on all the lights so you could feel exposed and vulnerable under his stare. You almost choke on that, but hold it down in favor of meeting your boyfriend's gaze again. 
He finally spoke, his voice low and measured, but there was a tightness there, like he was barely holding back. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the air around him crackling with restrained emotion. “You really think lying to me was a good idea?”
Your breath caught in your throat. Lying? You blinked, confusion mixing with the remnants of panic, but you didn’t get a chance to speak before Katsuki leaned in closer, his face now hovering just inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze didn’t falter, those sharp vermillion eyes pinning you in place.
“Let’s not pretend,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, unsettling calm. “You think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t tell?” His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. The way his eyes glinted, the way the tension in his jaw flexed—it was something far more dangerous.
“When did—” you started, but Katsuki cut you off, his tone sharp as a blade.
“When did I get back?” he asked, already knowing where your mind had gone. His smile widened, and the expression twisted something deep in your gut. His canines flashed, sharp and predatory, as the smirk grew into something almost menacing. “Right after you hung up the phone with me.”
Your stomach dropped. He heard? You should have known better. The way you’d tried to sound fine, the excuses you made about not being able to eat, the way your voice had shaken when you’d reassured him you were ‘doing great’—he hadn’t bought any of it. He’d come home right early, and he’d known.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued, “And you wanna know what I saw the second I walked in? You. Not taking care of yourself.” 
“Again.”
The words hit you like a slap. Your mind raced back to everything over the last few days—the lack of sleep, barely eating, pushing yourself to the point of collapse. You thought you could hide it. But Katsuki wasn’t fooled. He never was.
“You lied to me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “Told me you were fine, that you were ‘handling things.’” He chuckled darkly, his smile stretching wider.
“Look at you. Does this look like ‘fine’ to you?”
You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to form an excuse, something to explain yourself, but the words wouldn’t come.
Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as if he were preparing for the final verdict.
“I trusted you to take care of yourself while I was gone, and what do you do? You starve yourself. You don’t sleep. You get so out of it you nearly put a bullet through your own damn apartment. All while telling me everything’s ‘great.’”
You could hear the frustration lacing his words now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else—something deeper, more raw, hiding in the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he said the word trusted.
"I tried—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt so hollow even to your own ears. Katsuki wasn’t having it.
“Tried?” His voice cracked with a dangerous laugh, one that sent chills down your spine. “You tried? No, you didn’t ‘try.’ You hid from me. You lied because you thought you could handle everything on your own.”
He leaned forward again, the smile never fading, but this time it was sharper, darker, the full display of his teeth and sharp canines making him look almost feral. His red eyes widened slightly as he stared down at you, and there was an unsettling gleam in them now, something wild and untamed.
“But you can’t, can you?” he continued, his voice almost a mockery of sweetness. “You can’t take care of yourself. So guess what?” He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “I’m doing it for you.”
Your heart lurched in your chest as his words sank in. There was something terrifying about the calmness in his tone, the way he spoke as if it was a simple fact, something decided without question.
“You’re not eating? I’ll make sure you eat. You’re not sleeping? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too.” His smile grew wider, more sinister, as if he were enjoying the thought of it. His sharp canines glinted under the light, and it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a predator.
The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, his red eyes burning into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His presence was overwhelming, his words wrapping around you like chains, trapping you in the reality of what was happening.
Katsuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less terrifying. “From now on, you don’t get to make that call. You don’t get to decide when you’re ‘fine’ or when you need help. I do.”
Your throat tightened as you tried to find the right words, the right explanation, but there was nothing that would make this better. You had lied. You had pushed yourself too far, and now you were facing the consequences. But Katsuki wasn’t just angry. He was something else—something scarier.
He reached out, cupping your face gently with one large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. But the look in his eyes, the smile still pulling at his lips, made the gesture feel anything but comforting. He hooks his other palm on the underside of your calve and squeezes it twice. 
“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft but deadly serious. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Understand?” Katsuki dips his face lower, closer to yours as his pupils bore into your own.
You nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with fear and guilt. Katsuki’s thumb traced your jawline, his touch deceptively gentle, but the look in his eyes was unrelenting.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his smile finally fading, replaced with that hard, determined expression you knew all too well. He stood up slowly, towering over you, and as he did, the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a storm.
He wasn’t giving you a choice.
And you knew there was no fighting him. Not when he was like this.
Katsuki stood over you, eyes narrowing slightly as he reached for the mug in your hand. His fingers brushed yours, and before you could protest, he gently tugged it from your grasp, tilting the cup toward your lips. The cold refreshing liquid hit your tongue, and you blinked in surprise, forced to drink it all at his pace. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as if this small act of making sure you finished the drink was a matter of life and death. 
There was no room for resistance.
"All of it," he muttered, and you obeyed, the warmth of the drink doing little to soothe the knot of nerves twisting in your stomach.
Once you drained the last of the mug, Katsuki set it aside with a soft clink and guided you to your feet. His grip was firm but not rough, the warmth of his palm grounding you as he led you through the bright apartment.
The light filtering through the bulbs was harsh compared to the dark tension that had settled between you two. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened.
When he brought you to the bathroom, you turned to shoo him out. “I can handle this part,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to get some semblance of control back. But Katsuki remained solid as a wall, unmoving, his eyes fixed on you. One eyebrow arched in that sharp, expectant way of his, and you knew you had no choice.
With a resigned sigh, you began stripping down, feeling the weight of his gaze linger, even though he wasn't watching you like that. His focus was intense, like he was making sure you didn’t skip a single step.
Katsuki stepped forward and locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the small, tiled space. The air between you thickened as he moved to turn on the water in your freshly cleaned shower, the spray sputtering to life.
Steam rose, filling the room, curling into the corners like a mist creeping through your thoughts. He tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature before turning to you, his eyes softer now, but no less serious.
“Get in,” he said, the command laced with care. His hand hovered near your elbow, ready to steady you as you stepped into the tub. You felt small under his watchful eye, but also cared for in a way that made your throat tighten.
Once you were safely under the warm spray, Katsuki turned away slightly, giving you some space, though he stayed close. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he was satisfied. You stood there for a moment, feeling the water cascade over your body, washing away the grime and exhaustion that clung to your skin.
You knew you had about five minutes before he turned back around, so you hurried, scrubbing yourself down with more effort than usual.
It wasn’t long before he came back, his eyes flicking over you with a critical, almost soft look. Satisfied with your effort, Katsuki reached for the showerhead and rinsed you off himself, his hands guiding the water over your skin. He was gentle, methodical, like he was handling something precious. 
And in his eyes, that’s exactly what you are.
After rinsing you clean, Katsuki gestured for you to sit down in the tub. The air was thick with the scent of soap and steam, but beneath it all was the tension that neither of you had fully addressed. As you lowered yourself into the bubbles that Katsuki had added, you felt your face flush at the intimacy of it all.
“Ya know,” he began, his voice rough but laced with something deeper, “when I got home early, I was happy.”
You looked up at him, blinking away the water droplets clinging to your lashes. His back was to you as he rummaged through the cabinet, but there was a weight in his words that made your chest tighten. Happy? You hadn’t expected that, not after the way things had spiraled today.
“Kirishima already went up to surprise your little friend,” he continued, his voice casual but still laced with that undeniable edge of possessiveness.
He found a bottle of your favorite bath oil and added a few drops to the water, the subtle scent filling the room. Katsuki always had a way of paying attention to details like that. Things you didn’t even think he noticed.
“So it was just gonna be me and you this weekend. Me and my girlfriend.”
The way he said my girlfriend made your pulse quicken. There was something about the way Katsuki spoke when it came to you, the way he claimed the words, made them his own. It was possessive, sure, but not in the suffocating way.
It was like he was reminding you that you were his priority, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.
He finally turned back to you, kneeling by the tub so that his eyes were level with yours. The light in the room flickered, casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intense. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.
“So it was gonna be me and you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less serious. “But instead, I come home to find you falling apart.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the wet strands of your hair, pushing them back from your face. The gesture was soft, but there was a weight behind it.
“What the hell, babe? You can’t even take care of yourself while I’m gone?”
You opened your mouth to respond, to explain, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.
Katsuki’s hands were firm but gentle as he lathered your hair with shampoo, his fingers working through your scalp in deep, circular motions.
The pressure was so perfect that your eyes fluttered shut, a low hum escaping your throat as your body relaxed into the bath. It was embarrassing how good it felt, how every stroke of his fingers seemed to melt away the exhaustion clinging to your bones.
You could barely keep your head up, and just as your eyes threatened to roll back in your head, Katsuki splashed water at your face, jolting you back to reality.
“Oi, don’t go passing out on me just yet,” he muttered, though there was a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted behind you, grabbing the showerhead to rinse out the soap, the warm water cascading down your back as he continued his work. The rhythmic sound of water filled the space, a stark contrast to the gruffness in his voice.
“You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on your ass the second you walked back into the apartment, lookin’ all messed up like that,” Katsuki grumbled, his hands sliding down your shoulders to scrub your back.
His fingers traced the curve of your spine, his touch lingering as he was refamiliarizing himself with every dip and curve. 
“You think I like seein’ you like this? All run-down and weak? You’ve got more in you than this.”
Katsuki paused, his hand hovering over your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his stare even though you weren’t looking at him. “I just want you to be healthy. To take care of yourself the way I know you can.”
His hand moved down, scrubbing your arms with the washcloth, his roughness tempered by the care behind every stroke. “I get it, life’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you don’t get to fall apart like this. Not when I’m around to make sure you’re good.”
His words were gruff, but there was something softer beneath the surface—a quiet worry that he’d never fully admit to. Katsuki rinsed you off, the soap sliding down your body as he worked, his attention never wavering.
As he moved to scrub your legs, his touch slowed for just a moment.
“You’re tough,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand brushing along the curve of your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta do everything on your own. I’m here, alright?”
He rinsed you one last time, his hand lingering at the small of your back as if anchoring you to the moment.
“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for not jumping your ass the second I saw you. But first, we’re gonna get you back to being you again.”
Your heart pounded, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest. Katsuki wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you. And part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.
“No excuses,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up so you couldn’t look away. His thumb brushed against your lips, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t get to lie to me about this anymore.”
His gaze softened, but the intensity of his words remained. “I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. Even if that means watching over you every damn second.”
You nodded, the movement small, but Katsuki saw it. His hand dropped from your chin, and he leaned back, standing up to his full height as he grabbed a towel from the rack.
“Good,” he said, his voice softer now. He draped the towel over his shoulder and held out his hand to help you out of the tub. The air was cool against your skin as you stepped out the tub, his touch lingering on your shoulders as he pulled you close. The weight of the day seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet.
Katsuki is rough around the edges, sure. But when it came to you, there was no doubt—he’d take care of you, fuck everyone else.
Katsuki wrapped the fluffy towel around your body, still warm and soft from the dryer. You nuzzled into it, relishing the feeling of warmth against your skin, the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. His chuckle was low, almost rumbling through his chest as he set you gently on the bath mat.
"Wait here," he said, his voice firm yet filled with that protective edge you’d grown so used to. You sat obediently, the towel cocooning you in its comforting warmth as Katsuki disappeared briefly.
When he returned, he carried a chair from the dinning and placed it in front of the bathroom mirror. He motioned for you to sit, and you did so without protest. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the care he was giving made it easier to just lean into his routine. You felt his fingers work through your damp hair with gentle precision as he sectioned it off to braid. 
The motions were firm but soft, practiced as if he had done this countless times before. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax under his touch as he skillfully wove your hair into two simple, neat braids.
“There,” he murmured, wrapping a towel around the ends to help them dry. “That should do for now.” He gave you a brief once-over, satisfied with his work.
Next, Katsuki grabbed a toothbrush and came back toward you, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto it. Before you could protest or joke, he pressed the brush gently against your lips, and you reluctantly opened your mouth.
As he began brushing, your lips curled in a playful pout, and you made an attempt to nip his fingers with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Katsuki’s reaction was immediate, pulling back just slightly before leaning in close, his face inches from yours, eyes glinting with amusement.
“You really want me to bite you, huh?” he teased, voice low as his breath brushed your skin. You pouted but couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in. Slowly, you nodded, biting your lower lip. He smirked at your response, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shiver.
Your breath hitched as you squeezed him, wrapping your arms around his waist, but the sound that almost escaped you was quickly stifled as you pulled back, burying your face into the towel.
Katsuki chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with himself. "Behave," he muttered, finishing with your teeth. He handed you the mouthwash next. “Rinse,” he instructed, his eyes following your every move. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out, feeling oddly refreshed.
Once that was done, he moved on to the next part of his routine—your skincare. His touch was methodical as he washed your face, scrubbing gently and making sure every inch of your skin was properly cared for.
You could feel the cool cleanser on your cheeks as he worked, and there was something oddly intimate about the way he treated each step like it was second nature.
“No more mascara,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes as he gently dabbed a soft towel against your skin. “I want you to keep those damn lashes.”
You giggled at his comment, catching his eye in the mirror. “Hitoshi says we’re the only ones who make insomnia look sexy,” you teased. 
“Don’t take compliments from a guy who needs a bag check for his fuckin’ eyes.”
You snorted, while Katsuki was rolling his eyes. “That idiot looked like death last mission. He and Denki passed out under the table like a couple of idiots,” he said, shaking his head. 
“We should to check in on them—”
He interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “We can check on them tomorrow.”
His gaze shifted, locking onto yours with a possessive glint that made your stomach flutter. “You’re all mine this weekend. Those extras can wait.”
You blushed, your face softening as the weight of his words settled over you. The tenderness beneath his rough exterior always caught you off guard, especially when he showed it in moments like these. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for once, it wasn’t just because of the cozy towel wrapped around you.
Katsuki reached into the drawer, grabbing your favorite lip oil with a casual confidence, but his movements slowed with deliberate care as he traced the line of your cupid's bow, filling in your lips with precise strokes.
You felt the cool glide of the oil over your lips, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air between you. Watching him concentrate so intensely on such a delicate task brought a smile to your face.
“I can remember the last time you did something like this~”
you teased, the sing-song lilt in your voice light, playful. His reaction was immediate—his sharp vermillion eyes snapped back to yours, but his reddening ears gave him away. For all his confidence, a comment like that still managed to fluster him. The slight color spreading across his face would’ve been easy to miss if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.
His scowl deepened, and he growled, “So you wanna get your ass knocked out or what?”
You giggled, placing one hand on his solid shoulder, your fingers brushing against the heat radiating from his skin. Then, with a grin, you pressed the crown of your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek. 
“Nooo, I’m just so happy you’re here!” Your voice was soft, genuine, the relief and joy of his presence making you melt into the moment.
Katsuki’s tension ebbed as he rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He let your teasing slide, his usual gruffness tempered by the tenderness he rarely let anyone else see.
Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, his strength effortless as he held you close to his chest. You clung to him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your palm.
‘God, I love your heartbeat.’
As he carried you through the apartment, Katsuki flicked off the lights with a casual swipe of his hand, the darkness closing in behind you both. When you entered your room, you were greeted with the fresh, clean scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly Katsuki.
You blinked in surprise, realizing just how spotless everything was.
The bed was made, your clothes folded, and the air felt lighter, even though your mirror—still cracked from earlier—reflected back the remnants of your impulsive outburst. The shards of glass had already been swept and vacuumed away, leaving no trace of the mess.
Before you could comment, Katsuki threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing lightly against the plush comforter. “Hey!” you protested, mock indignation coloring your voice as you propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him.
He just smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re asking for it.” You narrowed your eyes, grabbing one of your stuffed animals—a soft, well-loved bunny—and held it up like a threat. “I’ll throw all my stuffed animals at you, Katsuki, don’t test me.”
But the playful moment quickly shifted, his expression darkening with a predatory edge. His eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he stalked toward you, inch by inch, like a wild animal sizing up its prey. The air between you thickened, electric, and your breath caught in your throat.
"You really wanna do that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered briefly to the stuffed bunny in your hand before it snapped back to your face. "When you know how I feel about your 'babies'?" The way he drawled out the word—"babies"—made heat coil low in your stomach, your body responding involuntarily to the tension in the air.
Your grip on the bunny loosened, and without thinking, you let it drop from your hand. It tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud, forgotten, as you instinctively wrapped yourself tighter in the towel, your pulse quickening.
Katsuki’s smirk widened at your silence, his voice a low rumble as he teased, “What, no answer for me?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, turning his ear toward you as if daring you to speak.
Instead of words, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He tugged at the edge of your towel with one finger, pulling it down just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. His lips descended, pressing a hot, firm kiss against the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his breath hot as he whispered against your skin, 
“Good choice.”
Your breath hitched, your body shivering as you leaned into his touch, his kiss lingering like a brand against your flesh. The air around you was thick with unspoken words, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his presence, the safety and intensity that only Katsuki could bring.
Katsuki’s hands reached for the hem of his skull-printed shirt, fingers curling as he lifted it over his head. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, every line of his sculpted frame rippling with controlled power. He didn’t bother tossing it aside like he normally would. Instead, he draped it over you, lowering it onto your head before helping you slip your arms through the sleeves.
You smiled softly as the worn fabric slid down your body, the familiar scent of Katsuki surrounding you like a comforting embrace. His shirt was huge on you, the edges brushing just past your thighs, the warmth of it melding with the heat radiating from him.
You shifted beneath him, looking up as he hovered over you, his palms bracing on either side of your head. The proximity made your heart race, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened for just a second, the intensity still present but tempered with something warmer, more intimate.
He didn’t say anything as you wrapped your arms around his strong back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingers.
“Come here,” you murmured, giving him a gentle tap between his shoulder blades.
Without hesitation, Katsuki let himself drop, all the glorious warmth of his body pressing against you in a slow, controlled descent. The heavy weight of his chest flattened against yours, and you sighed in contentment, the closeness making you feel grounded.
Katsuki’s body, normally so explosive and full of barely contained energy, was now soft and pliant against you, like he was giving you the privilege of feeling his full, unfiltered presence.
Your hands naturally found their way to his spiky blonde hair, fingers threading through the surprisingly soft strands. For all the sharpness of his exterior, Katsuki’s hair was softer than most people knew—something only a select few had the privilege to experience. He guarded his personal space like a fortress, and it took time for him to let his guard down around anyone, let alone like this.
But with you, it was different. He was different.
He was your fussy Pomeranian—prickly to everyone else, but with a soft, loyal core.
You gently massaged his scalp, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you worked through the spiked chaos of his hair. You could feel him relax, his tense shoulders loosening as he melted further into you, letting out a low grunt of approval. The sound was almost primal, a rumbling that vibrated through his chest and into yours.
You were so caught up in the moment, fingers tracing the line of his neck and combing through his hair, that you almost missed the sudden burst of air against your shoulder. It wasn’t until you felt the wet tickle of his lips blowing a raspberry into your skin that you realized he was trying to get your attention.
“What the—Katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as the sound reverberated through your skin. He smirked against your shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.
He lifted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “You listening now, or do I gotta do it again?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was that familiar edge of dominance underneath it all.
You huffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes before looking up at him. “What were you saying, genius?”
Katsuki grinned, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lowered himself again, letting his breath fan against your ear. “I said you’re lucky, you know that?” His voice was softer now, but it still held that commanding tone that sent a spark of heat through your chest. 
“Lucky I didn’t pounce on you the second I got back.”
His words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and your breath hitched as you met his gaze. The raw intensity in his eyes, that feral spark you loved so much, was back. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.
You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless. “Yeah? And why didn’t you?”
His grin widened as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I’m not an idiot. I could see you weren’t takin’ care of yourself. And I ain’t about to let my girl fall apart while I’m gone.”
You blinked, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, though his words held a stern undertone. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly against you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of his shirt. The touch was possessive but careful, like he was reminding you who was in charge of your well-being now.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but sometimes, you get stressed and forget.” His hands stilled, resting on your waist. “So I’m gonna do it for you.”
You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Katsuki, in his own gruff way, always knew exactly what you needed. And it wouldn’t even  admit it outright, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known.
You felt your hands tighten in his hair again, tugging gently as you let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of affection and guilt. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself lately, but hearing him say it hit differently. It made you realize just how much he’d noticed, how much he’d been keeping track, even when he wasn’t around.
Katsuki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his head to look down at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well... just don’t make me come home to that shit again, got it?” His voice was still gruff, but there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.
You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. He didn’t need to say it outright, but you knew—he wasn’t going anywhere. Not when it came to you.
Without another word, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you let yourself relax under the weight of his body, feeling safe, loved, and cared for.
The two of you lay there in a soft, comfortable silence, the weight of Katsuki’s warm body settled against yours, his steady breath fanning over your skin.
His arms, strong yet gentle, stayed wrapped around your waist as if anchoring himself to you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the sheets and the subtle creaking of the bed beneath your weight. You were about to close your eyes, savoring the moment, when you felt a slight flutter against your neck. His long eyelashes were brushing against your skin, tickling you softly.
You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Katsuki, you alright?"
A muffled, "Yeah," came from him, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. But something in the way he said it made you pause. His head shifted, settling over your boob (chest), right where your heart was. The sensation of his ear pressing against your heartbeat sent a wave of warmth and electricity rushing through you. Your soul felt like it was lighting up, a familiar connection between you two sparking alive.
Katsuki reached for your hand, his calloused fingers weaving through yours with a gentleness that contrasted his usual roughness. He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed them over his own heart, resting them there. The sensation, the intimacy of the moment, sent a tingle through your entire body, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and connection. It was rare for Katsuki to be this tender, to show you this vulnerable side of himself. 
And yet, as you lay there, your heartbeats in sync, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
A soft, involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him. You could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, steady and strong, and you were certain he could feel yours, too. The electric charge between you wasn’t just emotional; it felt physical, like your very essence was reaching out to him, and he to you. Katsuki, usually so tough and guarded, was here in your arms, sharing this tender moment.
But as you lay there, soaking in the warmth of the moment, something shifted. Katsuki stiffened slightly in your arms, his body going rigid against yours. You could feel his breath hitch, and when you looked down, you saw the confusion in his eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked completely lost, almost scared.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you felt him tense even further. A flicker of panic shot through you. You knew how hard it was for Katsuki to express his emotions, and seeing him like this, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down, tugged at something deep inside of you. 
"Are you having those pains again? Is it your chest?!"
Katsuki shook his head quickly, but his face contorted, and he let out a sharp sniff, his breaths coming faster. His fingers squeezed yours, his grip tightening as his other arm wrapped around your waist with almost a desperate strength.
You could feel the heat rising off his skin, his body suddenly clammy as if he were in a battle. His muscles tensed and flexed, his jaw clenched as he tried to fight whatever emotions were threatening to spill out.
"'S alright," he mumbled into your chest, but you could hear the tremble in his voice, the way it cracked as if he were holding something back. He buried his face deeper against you, curling into your body as though trying to shield himself from the storm brewing inside him.
"No, 'S not alright," you countered softly, your hand moving to rub slow, calming circles over his sweaty back. "Come on, Katsu, you know you can tell me."
You felt his heart pounding harder against your hand, the frantic rhythm echoing through your palm. His breath hitched again, and you instinctively shifted, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. Your other hand moved to the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of his tight muscles as his breaths came in shallow gasps.
Katsuki’s palms, usually dry and strong, grew slick with sweat, and you could feel his hands trembling as they gripped yours. He sniffed again, louder this time, his body shuddering as he tried to regain control. Several deep, shaky breaths followed, but he didn’t pull away.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head. His red eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, his lashes wet as he blinked them away. He sat up slowly, pulling himself out of your embrace, though he still held onto your hand like a lifeline. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his gaze distant as if he were trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside him.
You reached up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Baby, talk to me, please.”
He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft, raw. “I dunno... I just—” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked down at your hand still resting over his heart. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”
Your heart ached at the sight of him like this, so vulnerable and confused. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling things this deeply, wasn’t used to letting anyone in like this. But here he was, breaking down in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold him together.
You scooted closer, sitting up and pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katsu,” you whispered, your voice soothing as you cupped his face in your hands. “You’re just... feeling things. It’s okay.”
Katsuki closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t like not... not being able to control it.”
You kissed his forehead softly, letting your lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. “You don’t always have to be in control. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond, just sat there with his eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out as he let your words sink in. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were still glassy, but the panic had faded, replaced by a quiet resolve. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.
“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t... I don’t wanna lose it.”
You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek. “You won’t lose it, Katsuki. I’m here.”
Katsuki’s hand tightened around yours as he pulled back slightly, taking in a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. His eyes, still a little glassy but full of determination, met yours with a quiet intensity. “I didn’t want to be away from you,” he started, his voice soft but firm. “Even if work’s important... to me, you’re more important.”
You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that his work as a hero mattered, that it saved lives, but the look he gave you made you stop short. His gaze softened as it met yours, a silent plea for understanding. And instead of fighting back, you took his rough, calloused hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Then, with a small smile, you pressed his hands gently to your cheeks, letting him feel the warmth there, the quiet affection you had for him.
“I’m with you,” you whispered, and those simple words seemed to ease the tension in his body. He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily before he continued.
“I get it,” he said, his voice a little stronger now. “Why you’re always trying to be so independent. You’ve got your own life, your own goals, and I want to respect that.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek as he spoke, as though grounding himself with your touch.
“But I can’t... I can’t just sit by and watch you not take care of yourself. Sometimes... I feel like it’s my job to make sure you’re okay, ‘cause I... I love you.”
His voice cracked on those last words, and you saw the raw emotion flicker in his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t used to being vulnerable like this, to letting people see the softer side of him. But he was here, laying it all bare in front of you. You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity, the fear that maybe you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. It tugged at something deep inside you.
“I love you, and I want to take care of you,” he went on, his grip on your hands tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I wanna protect you, keep you safe, even when you don’t think you need it. It’s... it’s who I am. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”
Your heart swelled with affection, and you moved your hands over his arms, gently rubbing along the firm, tense muscles as you tried to soothe him. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his shoulders as he kept talking, the weight of his emotions finally spilling out.
“I just...” Katsuki paused, his voice faltering for a moment as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat at bay. “This time away from you... it made me realize a lot. How much I love you, how much I need you around. I can’t stand it when I’m not with you, even if it’s just for a few days.” He let out a small, almost bitter chuckle. “You probably think it’s stupid, huh?”
You smiled softly, shaking your head as you continued to run your hands over his arms, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your touch. “It’s not stupid,” you whispered. “I missed you too.”
Katsuki’s eyes flickered with relief, but there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his expression. “But you... you don’t take care of yourself, not the way you should,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You always look after everyone else—hell, you make sure everyone’s okay, but you don’t do the same for yourself. It drives me crazy.”
You gave him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood just a little. “You can’t keep an eye on me all the time, Katsu.”
He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you don’t make a habit of neglecting yourself, but when you do... you’re a hypocrite. You’ll run yourself into the ground to help everyone else, but then act like you don’t need anyone to do the same for you.”
You wanna stick your tongue out at him but knowing Katsuki, he’d make you regret that all night long. 
Katsuki’s intense gaze lingered, tracing every inch of you with a sharp, possessive look that made your heart race. His eyes moved from the top of your head, down the gentle curve of your neck, over the way his oversized skull shirt bunched up on your thighs, and down to your toes.
You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between you thickened with tension.
Then he blinked, and it was like a fog lifting. He shifted, reaching into the deep pockets of his sweatpants with a small grunt. “I wanted to do this ‘right,’ ya know,” he muttered, almost to himself, but the words were laced with that familiar gruffness. His fingers fiddled with something in his pocket, his focus still mostly on you.
“Spent weeks with those dumbasses—picking out flowers, going through all these fancy restaurants, trying to get the perfect gift. Because you’re my girl, and I only get the best for you.”
His voice was low, raspy, and the way his eyes softened briefly before trailing down to your legs made your breath catch. His hand, rough and warm, ghosted over your ankle as if testing the waters before his grip tightened, just enough to pull you slightly closer with a small, teasing tug.
The movement startled you, and you yelped, instinctively wrapping the towel tighter around your waist as you scrambled upright, your heart hammering against your ribs. Katsuki’s laughter rumbled through the room, deep and genuine, the sound like warm honey coating the air. He was taking in the sight of your flustered reaction with a wicked grin plastered on his face.
“Kats,” you started, still catching your breath as you eyed him suspiciously, “what are you getting at?”
The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned, that familiar cocky, dangerous look that always made your pulse quicken. His grin softened into something more meaningful, more grounded, but still tinged with that wild spark. That look in his eye? It was the one that always had you convinced that all the hot ones were definitely crazy.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more vulnerable.
“Since I met you.”
You blinked, watching as his gaze flickered down to your bare legs. His jaw clenched for a split second, and he let out a low curse under his breath. “Should’ve used that damn lotion,” he muttered, almost to himself, clearly irritated that he hadn’t taken the chance to pamper you properly.
The moonlight filtering in from your window cast a silvery glow over him, highlighting every cut and line of his muscles as if he were carved from stone.
He was beautiful, raw, like a storm contained just beneath the surface, and for a brief moment, you were distracted by the sight of him—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach flexed with each breath.
You could have his babies right here, right now.
Then his voice softened again, and the mood shifted as he spoke. “I love you. I really do.” His tone was hushed, like it was just for you. His eyes—usually so full of fire and determination—now held something much deeper, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It was just him. Your Katsuki.
“I’m not good with this shit. I know that,” he admitted, his mouth tugging into a small, self-deprecating smirk. “But I wanna do this right.”
You blinked, feeling the air grow heavier as he squared his shoulders, a determined glint returning to his eyes. His hand finally left his pocket, and in one swift, almost impatient motion, he pulled something out and opened it in front of you. 
A small box. Velvet. The kind that held only one thing.
Your breath hitched, and your entire world seemed to narrow down to that tiny box and the ring inside it. It glittered in the low light, catching the moon's glow, but the details were lost on you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest.
Katsuki looked at you, dead-on, his expression both serious and soft at the same time, like he was offering you everything he had. 
“Would you marry me and be my hot mess?”
For a split second, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the words that had just come out of his mouth. You felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs with a feather—hell, they could have knocked you over with one.
The world stopped spinning. Your eyes darted between the ring and Katsuki, who was watching you carefully now, his breath held as if he was waiting for your next move. You could feel the gravity of this moment pressing down on your chest, and yet... it wasn’t the heavy kind of weight that scared you. No. It was something else entirely.
It was the kind of weight that came with the realization that this moment, this person in front of you, was everything you never knew you needed.
A million thoughts raced through your mind, and none of them made sense, but your body reacted first. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, only a small breathless laugh as you brought your shaking hands up to your mouth. Katsuki’s eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction, and the barest hint of nerves flashed behind his hardened exterior. He might’ve been a fearless hero, but this?
This was different.
“Katsuki,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice as the emotions swirled inside you. “You... you’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” he replied immediately, his voice unwavering now. His eyes bore into yours with that fierce conviction only he could pull off. “I’ve been serious about you from the start. I love you, and I’m not waiting around anymore. I want you. With me. Always.”
His words sank into you, and before you even fully realized what you were doing, your hands shot forward, grabbing his face, pulling him down toward you. You kissed him—deeply, passionately, pouring everything you had into it, letting the overwhelming feelings consume you.
His lips were warm, familiar, grounding. Katsuki groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was too much to bear.
When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling with his as you both panted softly. The world around you faded, and all that was left was the man in front of you and the question still hanging in the air.
“Yes,” you breathed, smiling through the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Yes, Katsuki. I’ll marry you.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered joy on his face. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, in the soft curl of his lips and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears.
Katsuki Bakugo had won another battle—this time, with your heart.
Katsuki's rough fingers, calloused and warm, carefully slid the ring over your finger, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. You couldn’t help but gasp as the gem caught the light, sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was more than beautiful—it was personal. The stone in the center was your birthstone, cut into your favorite shape and polished into your favorite color, surrounded by a delicate halo of tiny rubies. Rubies just like his eyes.
Your gaze flickered to the ring and then back to Katsuki. “How… how did you…?” you whispered, utterly floored. The details were so specific, the kind that you had only mentioned in passing, mostly to Michael. But somehow, Katsuki had pieced it all together.
The rubies glistened against the band, and nestled between them were smaller gemstones that mirrored the exact shade of your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, there was another set of gems, a deep, fiery orange—the color of Katsuki’s favorite thing: explosions.
You turned the ring over in your hand, overwhelmed by the craftsmanship, the thoughtfulness. Every inch of the piece was a reflection of you, of him, of both of you together. Whoever he went to had worked some serious magic. As your fingers brushed over the band, something else caught your eye. With trembling hands, you slipped the ring off, turning it over, and there it was—engraved into the inside of the band in Katsuki’s unmistakable bluntness:
“I love you, dumbass.”
That was it. The tears came again, flooding your vision before you could stop them. Your chest tightened with the overwhelming sweetness of it all. You’d never expected this. How could you? This whole day had taken such a turn that your emotions were a tangled mess, and now, here you were, crying like a baby over a ring. But it wasn’t just any ring—it was him, you, everything.
“Katsuki,” you sobbed, bringing the ring to your chest as if it could stop the flood of emotions. Your voice trembled, but before you could even say another word, Katsuki’s eyes widened in pure panic. He hated when you cried. Hell, it wasn’t often that you let yourself fall apart like this, and seeing you like that sent him spiraling.
“Oi, oi! Don’t cry, damn it!” he barked, his voice frantic as he moved in closer, cupping your face with both hands. But then his panic melted into something softer as his thumbs wiped away the tears. 
“I’m serious, stop it, or you’re gonna make me lose it.”
But the sight of your tears didn’t stop him from acting on impulse. In typical Katsuki fashion, he leaned down and kissed you, first pressing his lips all over your face, desperate to dry every tear. But he didn’t stop there. In a ridiculous, completely endearing move, he leaned over and licked your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears with a playful smirk. You squealed, pulling away in shock, your face scrunched up in disbelief. 
“Did you just—ew, Katsuki! That’s so gross!”
You smacked his solid chest, half laughing, half horrified, but that only egged him on. “Oh, I’m gross now, huh?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous as he grinned down at you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he launched himself at you, playfully wrestling you down onto the bed.
“No, no—Katsuki!” you shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as his strong arms trapped you beneath him. He pinned you effortlessly, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. His lips were on you again, peppering your face with kisses, and soon enough, the two of you were tumbling around in the sheets, rolling and laughing like a couple of kids.
The wrestling match was chaotic, full of breathless laughter, limbs tangled up, and soft murmurs of affection between teasing jabs. Katsuki was surprisingly playful, and before long, you were both breathless, collapsing side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as your hearts raced in sync.
You turned your head, catching the way his chest heaved with each breath, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His messy hair, usually so spiked and wild, was disheveled in the cutest way possible. Without thinking, you reached out, running your fingers through it, smoothing it back in place. He hummed in contentment, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over at you.
“But where’s your ring?” you asked, suddenly realizing that the gesture had been one-sided. You were the one with the ring on your finger, but what about him?
Katsuki chuckled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “My ring, huh?” He smirked, eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky glint. “I’ll just give you my wallet, and you can surprise me.”
You blinked, taken aback for a second, before bursting into laughter. “M’Okay!” you replied, your voice full of playful mockery. “But don’t blame me if I pick something pink and covered in glitter.”
“Whatever you want, babe,” he shot back, unbothered by the thought, though you knew he’d raise hell if you actually went through with it. The both of you erupted into laughter again, the sound filling the room like music.
Katsuki shifted, rolling onto his side as he gently took your hand in his, threading your fingers together like he always did. His lips found your hand again, this time softer, more purposeful. He kissed the spot right over your ring, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing his promise to you.
“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked at him, your fiancé, the man who had somehow managed to make this chaotic mess of a proposal the most perfect moment of your life.
Katsuki’s eyes softened, his rough exterior melting away in the intimate glow of the moonlight. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you too, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but his expression was nothing short of tender.
In that moment, wrapped up in each other, you realized something: this—this wild, crazy love you shared with Katsuki—was the only thing that made sense in the world. You lay there together, side by side, hearts entwined, you knew without a doubt that you had found your forever.
💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the bed, but you groaned, stretching lazily as you woke up. Your fingers instinctively brushed against your hair, feeling the unruly mess it had become overnight—complete with knots and stubborn curls that had a mind of their own.
You squinted at the brightness as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Checking it, you saw the familiar ping of an email notification and grinned. You've been paid.
Sweet relief!
Rolling over to share the good news, you blinked in surprise at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold, and there was no sign of your fiancé—wait, boyfriend—wait, fiancé! A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you at the thought of the word.
But the smell of breakfast caught your attention, and any irritation at his absence melted away. The unmistakable scent of eggs, with a hint of something smoky—probably bacon—wafted down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clink of pans from the kitchen.
Katsuki was already up, and the thought made you smile.
Without bothering to fix your appearance, you hopped out of bed, your feet hitting the cool, hardwood floor with a soft thud. You knew you’d hear about it later—how walking around barefoot would make you catch a cold. He always ranted about that kind of stuff, but you’d just smile and give him your usual “Yes, mama,” while he’d glare at you with that fiery look. 
But for now, you padded down the hall, completely barefoot, on a mission.
The closer you got, the stronger his scent became—that familiar, intoxicating mix of burnt caramel and something inherently Katsuki. You spotted him before he even saw you, standing at the stove, his back turned, a spatula in hand as he expertly flipped eggs in a pan. His muscles were taut, his broad shoulders moving effortlessly as he worked. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.
With a mischievous grin, you quietly made your way over, your bare feet silent against the floor. And then, in one swift move, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into the crook of his neck. 
“Hi, fiancé!” you greeted, your voice muffled as you inhaled deeply, taking in that addictive scent that was all his.
Katsuki stiffened for a split second, more from surprise than anything else, but he quickly recovered. With a chuckle, he reached over and turned off the stove, placing the spatula down before his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them as he adjusted your weight.
“You’re gonna burn the damn house down one day, y’know that?” he muttered, but there was a playful note in his voice. Before you could even respond, he effortlessly spun you around, lifting you off his back and setting you down on the kitchen counter nearby. His strength never failed to amaze you, and you giggled as your bare legs dangled off the edge, your hands resting on his chest.
His eyes softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lazy good morning kiss. “Hi, teddy bear,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice still raspy from sleep.
You smiled into the kiss, but just as you started to pull him closer, he pulled back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”
He frowned, glancing down. “Did you use the bathroom?”
“Nope.”
His scowl deepened, though you could see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Wash your face?”
“Also, no.”
Katsuki groaned dramatically, running a hand through his messy, spiked hair. “And this is exactly why you’re moving in with me today. You need supervision,” he grumbled, though his voice was more affectionate than angry. Before you could argue, he lightly smacked your thighs, the contact sending a playful jolt through you. 
“Katsuki!” you gasped, half laughing as you swatted at him, but he only pointed toward the living room.
Your delicate features blossomed into an expression of confusion. “What?”  But he didn’t respond, instead looking so mischievous and pleased with himself.
That’s when you noticed it—half of your living room was in disarray, large boxes stacked high, and furniture already disassembled. It looked like a moving truck had stormed through your place. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the sight.
“KATSUKI!” you shrieked, your voice bouncing off the walls as the reality of what he’d done sank in. He had already packed half your stuff—without even telling you! You couldn’t believe it.
He didn’t even flinch at your outburst, just gave you that smug, self-satisfied grin of his, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 
“What? I told you, you’re movin’ in today. Thought I’d help speed things up,” he said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just dismantled your entire living room.
You huffed, staring at the boxes like you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You could’ve at least warned me!”
He chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your waist. “Nah. You’d just overthink it. This way, it’s done, and we don’t have to argue about it,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss your nose.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still not done with school, you know. And we haven’t even… there’s no… ring on your finger.”
Katsuki quirked a brow, his smirk turning wicked. “I told you, give me my wallet, and you can surprise me with the ring.”
You laughed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” he said, the playful edge to his voice making your heart skip a beat. “And don’t worry about school. You can study at my place just fine.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. You melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your feet curling around his calves.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips tingling. “You don’t play fair,” you muttered, but the smile on your face betrayed you.
He grinned, kissing your forehead softly before pressing his lips to your knuckles where your ring sat. “I play to win, babe. And I already did,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.
You sighed, leaning into him, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou always got his way.
Before you could respond to his sweet words, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You leaned in closer, pretending to go in for another kiss, but at the last second, you bit him—just lightly, on his shoulder—before snatching the plate of bacon from the counter. Katsuki blinked, his eyes widening in confusion before narrowing sharply as he processed what had just happened.
“You little brat!” he growled, his voice full of playful irritation.
With a squeal, you jumped off the counter, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and bolted for the bedroom, the stolen bacon in hand. You knew exactly what you were doing. Katsuki typically hated when anyone touched his food (although he actually had a habit of feeding you from his plate and fork), but you couldn’t help it. You loved riling him up, especially when he got that fire in his eyes!~
"Come back here, princess!" he barked, and the sound of his footsteps echoed behind you.
You darted around the corner, your heart pounding with adrenaline and laughter bubbling in your throat. The hardwood floor was slippery, and you barely made it to the door when Katsuki’s booming footsteps got louder. He was fast, too fast. 
A real predator on the hunt, and you were his target.
“Fuuuuck it, we ball!” you shouted over your shoulder, laughing as you slid into the bedroom. You could hear him cursing under his breath, muttering something about how you were always testing him. You were a princess, and yeah, maybe a bit of a brat, but that was part of your charm. You loved to push his buttons, loved how easy it was to get under his skin.
You heard the door slam behind you as Katsuki entered the room, hot on your heels. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense as he advanced. You tried to dodge him, but he was quicker, snatching the plate of bacon from your hands before grabbing your waist and pulling you back into his chest.
“Gotcha now, you little thief,” he growled in your ear, his voice low and warning, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.
You squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held you firm, his arms like steel bands around your waist. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” you giggled, breathless from the chase.
“You’re damn right you do,” he murmured before spinning you around and planting a quick, searing kiss on your lips. It was rough, but it was Katsuki through and through—fiery, intense, and full of passion.
You grinned against his lips, leaning into him. “Guess I’m still your little brat then, huh?”
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he looked down at you with that same possessive, loving gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Damn right you are. My brat, my princess, my pain in the ass.”
You laughed, nuzzling into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you. “And you’re my grumpy fiancé,” you teased, poking his ribs.
Katsuki grumbled, but his smirk softened, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. But I’m your grumpy fiancé, so fuck it—we ball.”
In that moment, tangled together, laughter still lingering in the air, you knew without a doubt that you were his, and he was yours. No matter what life throws at you, you’d face it together. 
Always.
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See you soon my loves!!
(。・ω・。)ノ♡
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felixbit · 27 days
Text
up all night
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pairing: bang chan x gn!reader w. 3.9k genre: shameless smut summary: chan is in the studio working late, stressed about a deadline and pushed to his limit. you convince him to take his mind off work. warnings: reader has somewhat implied afab anatomy but no gendered terms/pronouns are used. petnames used: baby, love, honey a/n: making my smut debut with chan! written for the best person ever
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As of late, Chan has been in the studio far more often than you'd like.
You knew he was a workaholic when you got into the relationship. He cared about his career, music, and group so much he'd push himself to the brink. He wrote, composed, and produced all of his own music and wouldn't have it any other way. If he wanted success, he needed to make it himself.
It came at a cost, though. You saw the way his mental health would deteriorate around the time of deadlines. He'd spend almost entire days in the studio, perfecting every last word and beat. You watched as he shaped this music from his hands, sculpting them to smooth out every edge and imperfection.
Even Chan was far too aware how bad it was for himself. You'd try to find ways for him to take breaks, always bringing him food and water to keep him going. He'd thank you in a million ways, with words and fond touches but it ended in him going back to work.
When he finally was home, he returned to the kind and gentle boyfriend you knew him to be. Holding you as you fell asleep and buying your order at the local coffee shop before you woke up. He'd make you breakfast in bed when he had the time, writing love notes whenever he had to leave before you woke up.
As it always happened, a new deadline was approaching. Chan often slipped out after schedules to the studio and worked himself down to the bone. You tried your hardest to spend as much time in there with him, even if it was just laying on the couch scrolling your feed. Every little thing helped.
That night, you'd ordered him some takeout but it was eaten long ago. The time on your phone showed it was half past three in the morning and Chan was at it in earnest. Headphones on, replaying samples and tweaking sounds.
You looked over from your phone when you heard him swear under his breath and take his headphones off. Chan let out a long sigh and covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking back down at his work.
"It- it just won't sound like I need it to. It's not right, it's.." Chan rambled into the air.
You got up from the couch and walked behind his chair, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and massaging them with your fingers. "I know, Channie. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"
"No, I'm sorry," Chan let out a long sigh and smiled up at you weakly, "You being here is enough."
You felt a stirring in your stomach at the sentiment, but you wouldn't give up that easily. "I can't just let you suffer alone here. Do you want to take a break or wrap up for the night?"
"I won't remember how I want it tomorrow. If I give up on this now, there's a chance I never fix it and it goes out sounding wrong. I can't do that."
"Chris," You stopped massaging his shoulders to turn his chair around, looking down at him, "I know you want it perfect. Write it down on a sticky note what you want and take a break. It's gonna be four soon and I'm not letting you spend another all nighter here."
Chan looked up at you curiously before deflating back in his chair. "I mean- are you sure? If I forget, it's gonna be noticeable, and-"
"I'll remind you. I'll put it in my phone and tell you exactly what you need to fix. Here, tell me what it is and I'll write it down. Got it?"
Chan paused for a moment before nodding, allowing you to open your phone before speaking. He gave you the exact timestamps of the song and the strange producer jargon that you couldn't quite make sense of. You wrote it down word-for-word just as he needed it.
"There, it's in here for you later," You recited it back to him and he gave a confirmatory nod, "You're all set for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? I can't be done for the night, there's too much to work on and not enough time. I'm sorry, just another hour. Please?"
You shook your head and set your phone down on the table before sliding into his lap, straddling him in the chair. "You're not working another second on those songs tonight, Chris."
Chan looked up at you a little stunned before a sly smirk crossed his face. "Baby, you know that's not fair to me. I need to work and you're doing something dangerously distracting."
"What are you going to do, then?" You replied back, unable to hold back a grin, "You gonna remove me from your lap to do some boring work instead?"
You could see Chan chew on the inside of his cheek before sighing. "It's not boring, and I really should get back to it.."
"Then you're going to have to remove me yourself, because I'm not moving."
Chan let out a dramatic sigh before his hands moved up the outside of your thighs, resting right next to your hips. "You know damn well I'm not going to do that."
"And why's that, Channie?"
His hands moved over your thighs, giving a light squeeze. "God, you're driving me insane. Coming into the studio every night and making yourself useful at every opportunity.. I wanted so bad to stop just to make you feel good. You deserve that, instead of me working the whole day."
"Your opportunity has finally come, I'm all yours if you want me right now."
Chan chuckled, "You could ask me that a thousand times and I could never say no."
You leaned in to his ear and whispered, "Then make your move."
There was a moment of silence before Chan pulled you in for a kiss, messy and rushed. His hands were all over your thighs, waist, back. He couldn't pick a spot and stick to it, deciding instead everywhere needed to be felt over.
You tried to keep things centered, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. One of your hands played with the curls growing on the back of his head, enjoying the soft feeling through your fingers. It was the only thing keeping you sane.
His hands finally found a place to reside when he hooked them on the hem of your pants, giving light tugs as you felt him squirming under you. Pulling away from the kiss with a grin, you looked down at Chan and his flushed appearance. "So eager.."
"Can you blame me? Now stand up and help me get those off," Chan demanded with a rushed voice, helping get you to your feet as he followed in your footsteps. His usually deft hands were fumbling as he desperately pulled your pants off of you and discarded them to the floor.
Watching him undo his own sweatpants like a madman had you giggling at the sight. "You go one week without any action, and this is how desperate you get?"
"I'm a starved man, honey," Chan's face was red and already had sweat on his brow, "I can't wait any longer, not after all that teasing."
"Teasing? What-"
"Get on the damn couch."
That much was enough to have you laying down on the couch without hesitating. His sweatpants joined yours on the floor, showing off the black boxers he was sporting underneath. A quick glance showed he was pitching an obvious tent.
Although as quick as you were, Chan caught you looking. He raised his brows and laughed, "And I'm the eager one here?"
"You are the eager one here, hardly put your hands on me and you're giving those boxers a run for their money," You responded with your own laugh.
"You little.." Chan shook his head and leaned over you, putting his weight on one forearm on the couch as he kissed you once more. Instead of the fast and desperate pace he had set before, Chan was far slower and delicate. It was almost infuriatingly slow.
You couldn't show how much you wanted him to go faster, that would only prove his point. Instead, he was slowly breaking you down by the second, one arm stabilizing himself and the other hand on your neck, softly stroking your jaw with his thumb.
The waiting game paid off when Chan suddenly took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a small tug before he pulled away. "I can't keep this up. You win. Damn you, I'm eager."
There wasn't time for any words to respond before Chan was back where he was before, sloppy and fast. He kissed down your neck, excessive in his biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Not expecting it, a sound broke its way out of you.
You did your best not to give in to the rest of his harsh and aggressive kisses down your neck. After a week of downtime, he was making up for it in marking your neck as his own. Nobody was going to know who the perpetrator of the hickeys were later (other than the upset staff), but it was the idea that mattered.
There were bigger problems actively stealing your attention. Namely, the small amount of friction made with him moving ever-so-slightly between your legs. It was easy to ignore at first, but the neck kisses were causing the pleasure parts of your brain to kick into high gear.
With one harsher movement than the rest, you were unable to bite back a small, unfiltered sound that escaped you. Chan broke contact with your red and bruising skin to look up with a grin on his face.
"What was that, love?" Chan's tone was starkly different than before, far more teasing and with a dark edge to his voice that you only recognized coming out in bed.
Attempts to take his attention off of it failed and you were forced to fess up in the moment. "You have to stop moving like that, it's driving me crazy."
"Moving like what?" Chan shifted his legs, slotting his thigh directly between yours and pressing firmly against you. This elicited a frustrated sigh, the feeling too strong to push away.
Upon no immediate response, Chan pushed his thigh forward and forced a fuller, more in-tact moan out of you. "Fine, fine- that. Putting your thigh between my legs. That's the thing that's driving me crazy."
"There you go," Chan's words were sickly doting in a way that made you break at the seams, "What do you want instead?"
With his thigh slotted firmly between your own, finding coherent strings of words was difficult. "Just.. get this underwear off me and use your fingers instead."
Chan smiled, clearly pleased with your answer. He moved his leg out from between yours, relieving the pressure and allowing you to breathe. He sat back on his legs as he removed the last layer of clothing from below your waist, tossing it to the growing pile on the floor.
He nudged himself closer, Chan's hand finding its way to where his thigh was once situated before. His middle finger teased you with a circular motion around your entrance, so close to where you needed it most.
"Chan." You demanded, shooting him a glare.
"Okay, okay. Just admiring how worked up I've got you," Chan smirked before his finger pushed inside, slowly filling you up and drawing out a long sigh. He worked slowly yet decisively, knowing exactly how you like it.
That was one of the things you loved about Chan: he knew your body like the back of his hand. Where you were most sensitive, what drove you wild, how rough you liked him to get. He could push your buttons perfectly, string you up in his words until you were tied up into a nice present for him.
Before you could process the first, Chan had already added a second finger and was growing more confident. He worked his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, not slow enough to leave you wanting more nor fast enough to want to slow down.
"That good, baby?" Chan's eyes met yours, and you saw a different side of him for a moment. The way he sought your approval and made sure everything was right had your heart melting. He had confidence in his abilities, but occasionally needed reassurance.
You nodded eagerly, on the cusp of desperation. "It's good, Channie, you're doing so good," You said between soft moans as his fingers pumped deep, feeling him tease a third and giving him a nod.
The third was always a stretch that had you biting back whines in conjunction to moans, but the feeling was too good to beat. The feeling of being full, on his fingers or otherwise, was what drove you wild.
He kissed you once more, slow and tender as his fingers continued to work. It was hard to keep properly connected, devolving into moaning against his lips with small kisses in between.
"Chris," You said, "Can't wait any longer. Need to have you inside, baby."
Instead of his usual entourage of teasing questions, Chan nodded. He made quick work of his boxers, tossing them haphazardly towards the pile as he moved back to you. He was painfully hard, already leaky and worked up.
"Can I?" He looked down for your reassurance, which came with a nod as he lined himself up. His hips moved forward slowly, feeling him filling you up more by the second. It always took a second to adjust to the size, catching your breath as he bottomed out and waited for your signal.
When you gave him the go-ahead, Chan couldn't help but begin a slow and steady pace. He knew better than to go fast right off the bat- he was a lot to handle. But you could hear him whining softly over top of you and knew he was desperate.
Looking up at him, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "You can go faster, Chris. You won't hurt me."
You heard Chan let out a breathy laugh before his thrusts grew harsher. Instead of the slow, fluid motion of before; he was faster, precise. Every movement had purpose, each angled just right and hitting the sweet spot.
The sudden adjustment had you whining and letting out louder moans, unable to properly cope. It was overwhelming how good he was at it. All you could do was wrap your hands around the back of his shirt and claw at it helplessly as he had his way.
The fabric getting in the way of your fingers on his skin was beginning to frustrate you. "Off," You managed to get out, "Shirt- off."
Chan grinned, sitting up for a moment and slowing down to a snail's pace to pull his black t-shirt over his head and discard it. You reached up, dragging a hand down his chest and over his abs. Every muscle was yours to touch, to claim.
"You like what you see?" Chan said with a laugh.
Deadpanning, you shook your head. "Shut up."
In a second, he was back over top of you and his pace was back with a new force he didn't have before. It was often he was without clothes, but you weren't under the impression a shirt would be the thing holding him back. Either way, you relished in the fact his back was open to you.
Your nails dug in to his tanned skin, dragging along as he fucked into you steadily. You could hear him sucking air in between his teeth followed by his soft moans. He was always one to endure a little pain.
An idea popped into your head when you thought of before, sitting in the chair in his lap. "Chris, stop for a sec." He immediately halted all movements, looking down at you to make sure everything was alright. "Sit normally, facing the booth."
Chan looked at you perplexed for a moment, but pulled away. He did exactly as you told him to, sitting with his legs spread facing the booth he was just sitting in front of not twenty minutes ago. "What are you planning?" He asked.
You sat up and climbed over to him, straddling his waist with your legs and feeling him hard underneath you. "What I wanted to do to you when I was in your lap earlier."
The realization slowly filled his eyes and a knowing smile returned to his face as he sat back, leaning against the black couch cushion behind him. "Go right ahead."
"If you make me do all the work, we're going to have problems," You glared at him as your hand guided his cock, slowly sinking down on it with a sigh.
Chan's large hands wrapped around your waist, slowly guiding you as you moved up and down. Riding wasn't always the easiest job, and it definitely took some getting used to at the start. Your thighs were slowly building up muscle from the practice.
"God, you're so pretty like that," Chan's voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking down at him to see him smiling up at you. His face was pink and he almost had stars in his eyes.
Seeing just how infatuated he was made your heart race and your face flush, almost forgetting to continue to move. "You're pretty, too."
Your hands were situated on his shoulders to keep steady, but one dragged down and you couldn't resist feeling up his chest a bit. Chan looked up at you smirking again. "Do you ever keep your hands off those?"
Snickering, you pushed down a little harder to see him whine and catch his breath before you responded, "If you're going to keep your clothes off all the time, I'm going to feel up the assets you work so hard on."
"Why do you insist on teasing me all the time? You know what happens when you do that," Chan had a dark look in his eyes that you knew far too well.
Shrugging, you moved your hand up to run through his hair. "Did you ever consider I might like what happens when I tease you?"
"So be it."
Without hesitation, you felt Chan's grip around your waist suddenly tighten. You leaned forward instinctively, both of your hands secured around his shoulders.
He began to thrust up into erratically, fast and without caution or precision. The sound of your skin connecting was obscene, thanking the amount of soundproofing around you as a chorus of moans spilled out of you. Every movement had him deep inside you as you attempted to roll your hips along with him.
"Fuck, Chris," You whined, his pace unrelenting and seeming like he wasn't going to let up any time soon, "Close."
There was a distinctive feeling growing, one you knew too well. The amount of pleasure from every movement was rapidly growing as your body was being overwhelmed. Chan heard you, but didn't stop for a moment. It was almost if it was a sign for him to fuck you faster.
Either way, you were tipping over the edge before you had time to process it, spasming around him as you let you a whorish moan. He slowed down, letting you ride out the high. "That's it, baby," He coaxed, "You got it."
Just as you settled down, you felt him start to work himself into a moderate pace again. Your legs felt shot from your energy levels dipping so you asked, "Do you want to me to move, baby? I don't think I have much in me to keep going right here."
"If it's not comfortable to be right there, of course we can move," Chan said with a smile as he allowed you to reposition to pretty much the same spot you were in before. You laid on your back, Chan coming back over top of you. "That better?"
"Much better," You said with a nod as he went back to the pace he had set before. It wasn't as rough as before your orgasm, but steady enough to keep you whining and your brain somewhat fogged up from the constant pleasure.
Meanwhile, you could see Chan was already getting worked up. His face was redder than usual, his eyes trained on one spot, breathing hard as he kept the effort going to thrust his hips in one continuous pace.
His deep groans and whines had begun to turn into full-fledged moans and swears under his breath. His hands eagerly gripped and kneaded at your waist, seeming like he might accidentally bruise the skin. You were about to open your mouth when he said something.
"Honey, I-" Chan was cut off by his own faltered moan, "I'm close, so fucking close."
You pulled him down to kiss him briefly, keeping his face inches from yours as he continued to erratically thrust. "You don't have to wait, cum for me."
Chan nodded vigorously, his hips snapping back and forth at a speed that had you holding onto the couch for dear life, hearing him let out strained moans and teary-eyed cries as he climbed closer and closer to the top.
All of the sudden, he pushed deep inside you, letting out a gasp and a whine as you felt him come deep inside. His hips stuttered as he slowly rocked them, riding out the high. "Oh my god, that.. that was amazing."
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath, you smiled up at him and gave him another quick kiss. "I've missed you, Chris. I've missed this," You admitted after another silent pause.
Chan nodded, pressing his forehead against yours and sighed. He had finally mellowed out, still buried deep. "I've missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do this with you and.. be a good boyfriend."
"No, you're okay. I know how much work matters to you and getting things right means that you see that success you've always wanted. I just always miss you in the times you're working, even if I'm in the same room as you."
"I just feel bad when you're here til way too late at night. Speaking of, what time is it?" Chan slowly pulled out, leaving his mess inside you as he quickly grabbed his phone from the floor, "Oh my god. It's half past four."
Your jaw dropped, standing up quickly as Chan hurried around the room to find something to help you clean up. He settled for his own black t-shirt, telling you he'd just go home shirtless if he had to. Of course it looked terribly stained when you had wiped yourself down, sighing while knowing it probably cost a crazy amount.
Digging through a closet, you found one of Chan's old jacket. Chan was standing shirtless and pacing with the rest of his own clothes on, the defiled shirt balled up in his hand.
"Channie, guess what I found?" You asked with a grin, hiding the jacket behind your back.
Chan looked at you with a nervous smile. "Is it something good? I'm just not super stoked to walk home shirtless at four in the morning.."
You tossed the jacket to him, Chan opting to drop the shirt in his hand before he caught it to not get the filth on it. He happily slid it over his shoulders and zipped it up all the way, picking up the soiled shirt once more.
"Shall we go?" Chan said as he double-checked his pockets and walked towards the studio door.
"We shall."
2K notes · View notes
wheeboo · 3 months
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just a roommate thing | kim mingyu
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SYNOPSIS. in which playful flirting between you and your roommate has always been the norm, but how does that help with how you really feel towards him? PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. seokmin) GENRE. fluff, humour?, roommates (and prob idiots) to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, slightly suggestive, just... flirting?, reader is shorter than him, mingyu is shirtless, reader is referred as "princess" once, mentioned that reader is wearing makeup, reader dislikes pizza for the sake of plot sorry to my pizza lovers HAHAHA, reader is gender neutral but they briefly compare themselves to another girl, kissing WORD COUNT. 5.2k
requested by anon: Hii, I wanna request a Mingyu fic where him and reader are roomies and they’re very lovey dovey ig but “jokingly”. But then reader is like trying to go on dates and stuff and Mingyus jealous💀 idk man
notes: this was actually a random request that i started months ago and suddenly decided i wanted to finish RIGHT NOW when i was scrolling thru drafts. no idea if the anon who sent this remembers this but um... yeah ! lowk turned out a bit of a mess i think this plot sounded better in my head, enjoy nonetheless :')
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You like to think that being roommates with Kim Mingyu is both a blessing and a curse.
You used to believe that having your very first roommate straight up abandon you at the very beginning of the semester was something you could pull off with, because you'd rather be living alone than living with someone you can hardly vibe with. It worked for a while, until the housing department paired you with Kim Mingyu: tall, obnoxiously handsome, ridiculously muscular for seriously no goddamn reason at all, annoyingly charming, and a goofy smile that could light up a room.
Any person would probably kill to be in your place right now, but sometimes you think you'd rather trade places with the pigeons outside your window. Mingyu wasn't a bad roommate𑁋far from it, actually. He kept the apartment spotless, never hogged the bathroom, and even cooks mean late-night ramen whenever you both are drowning in deadlines.
But the problem was, Mingyu was also excruciatingly touchy. Not in a creepy way, but more like a human koala bear who couldn't seem to function without some form of physical contact. Whether it was ruffling your hair as you walked past him, casually draping his arm over your shoulder while watching a movie together, or sneaking up behind you to give you a surprise bear hug while you cooked, there was a line between friendly and... something more.
It was comfortable, almost too comfortable. You told yourself it was just a roommate thing, just a Mingyu thing𑁋that you were both really good friends who happened to be a little more affectionate than most. But you seriously want to smack his head sometimes. And maybe your own too, even if you secretly like the attention. Because deep down, you know there's nothing casual about the way you feel about Mingyu.
But lately, for God's sake, you don't know how much more you can handle.
"Need any help with that?" Mingyu's voice snatches your attention from your aimless stirring of some cookie dough, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull.
Here he is. Kim Mingyu in all his glory𑁋shirtless with a towel in-hand dabbing at his dripping strands of hair, his tan skin glistening with droplets of water from the shower. You try your best to keep your gaze focused on the cookie dough in front of you, trying to ignore the way his damp hair sticks to his forehead and how the sight of his abs are practically boring into your soul, but that's easier said than done.
Your throat tightens, and you let out a cough.
"Yeah, um...." You let your eyes drift down to the plain-looking batter of cookie dough in front of you. "Can you grab some chocolate chips from the pantry?"
Mingyu just raises a brow, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Sure thing, princess."
You feel your cheeks burn unpleasantly at the playful nickname, and you mutter a quick thanks as he saunters past, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him. You focus back on stirring, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest and the way your fingers fumble against the spoon.
He returns with a bag of chocolate, and as he leans over to pour some into the bowl, your arms brushing lightly. A jolt shoots through you, and you almost drop the spoon. He pauses, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before you get yourself back to mixing the dough again.
"Here, let me help you," Mingyu offers, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches over to try to grab the spoon from your grasp. You can practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through his bare arm.
You let out a scoff, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "I can handle it, Gyu."
He just chuckles, and the sound seems to send shivers down your spine.
"Nonsense," he insists adamantly, tone playful but there's a pinch of softness in there too. "Two hands are twice as fast, right?"
You roll your eyes in slight annoyance, but a small smile tugs at your lips nonetheless.
"More like twice as messy." Yet you end up surrendering the spoon to him anyway, because simply saying no to him is a strenuous thing to do over anything else. His hand meets yours halfway, fingers touching against your knuckles as he snatches the whisk from your hands.
The heat from his hand lingers even after he pulls away, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from him, mesmerised by the way his biceps flex, the way his hair falls in messy dark strands across his forehead, the way his lips curve as he focuses on whisking in a way that's both infuriating and endearing.
But amidst this, you can't help but feel the nagging feeling settling at the pit of your stomach.
"So, what's the occasion?" Mingyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.
You blink, momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Huh?"
Mingyu chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I mean, you don't usually bake cookies on a random Wednesday night. Is there something special going on?"
You swallow, feeling your mind draw a blank, trying to come up with a nonchalant answer. "Oh, you know... just felt like baking."
Mingyu just scoffs, clearly not buying your words. "Come on, Y/N. You're a terrible liar."
God, how can he always see right through you? Does he have some sort of sixth sense? And yet, even despite the discomfort of being so transparent, there's a strange sense of comfort in knowing that Mingyu can see you for who you truly are, except for the one thing you want him to notice about you.
"Fine." You give in, running a slightly frustrated hand through your hair. "It's... Seokmin."
For just a single, most miniscule moment, Mingyu pauses.
"Seokmin?"
You swear you can feel your feet sinking into quicksand. "The guy from my history class, remember? He... uh, I asked him out the other day."
Mingyu's whisking slows down as he processes your words, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes. But before you can dwell on it further, he masks it with a faint smirk.
"You asked him out?" he asks, as if still trying to wrap his head around it.
"Yeah, I..." You seriously want to sew your mouth shut right now. "I thought I would, um, you know... put myself out there for once."
You watch as Mingyu throws another handful of chocolate chips into the batter, a little more forcefully this time, the clatter against the metal bowl echoing in the sudden silence. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the way his jaw clenches and unclenches.
"So," he continues, seemingly unfazed. "what did he say?"
You hesitate, watching as his hands work the dough, mind whirling with confusion and caution.
"He... um, he said yes."
"Huh," Mingyu murmurs, tone teasing. "And here I thought I was the only one who got to enjoy your company."
His words jab at your heart, a pang of guilt twisting around in your stomach, but you try to brush it off with a forced chuckle.
"You know you're irreplaceable, Gyu."
Mingyu's gaze flickers to yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of... something in his eyes. But before you can decipher it, he offers you a tight-lipped smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Right," he replies casually. "I'm glad you think so."
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Mingyu is wearing one of your hoodies.
Sure, you've worn a couple hoodies and sweatshirts that he has given to you out of practicality as they were really oversized and comfortable. But here, in the middle of your kitchen, highlighted under the warm glow of the overhead light and the aroma of cooked ramen, seeing Mingyu draped in your favourite oversized, white hoodie felt awfully intimate, and it brings that overwhelming flutter to your chest.
"Hey," he greets you when you walk in. "How was the date?"
You can still hardly believe what you're seeing right now, gaze staring at the way the fabric seems to cling at this broad frame, and your own lips doesn't seem to be functioning correctly.
"It was, uh... it was good," You manage to stammer out, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and forcing your gaze away from the way Mingyu rolls up his sleeves. "He liked the cookies."
"He liked the cookies?" Mingyu raises an amused brow, leaning against the counter with a casual ease that throws your already flustered mind into further disarray.
You shrug, feeling like your burying yourself down into an inescapable hole. "Yeah, he did. We, uh, had a meal at the park, talked for a while, the usual stuff, you know."
Some silence stretches between you, filled with the soft sizzle of the ramen and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You watch the way Mingyu twirls the noodles around a pair of chopsticks, before shutting off the heat of the stove.
"Are you wearing my hoodie?" You ask as he's taking a sip of the soup, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it. "I swear I've been looking for that one for ages."
Mingyu looks down at himself as if he remembering what he's wearing, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips, and he scratches the back of his neck in a gesture that's so uniquely him𑁋it makes your heart ache.
"I... forgot to do my laundry, and it was the first thing I could find," he admits, then takes a sip of the ramen, eyes meeting yours briefly before dropping back down to the bowl. "Looks comfy on me, though, doesn't it?"
He wasn't wrong. It usually engulfed you, but it hung loosely on Mingyu's bigger frame, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows to reveal his strong forearms.
"Well," You say, clearing your throat. "I wouldn't mind having it back, actually. It's my favourite."
"Yeah?" he tests playfully, raising a mischievous eyebrow. "I don't know, it looks pretty good on me."
You watch as he flexes his arm playfully, making the fabric of the hoodie stretch across his bicep. You can't help but let out a small, choked laugh, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest despite yourself.
"Oh, come on," You fret, trying to keep your voice light. "You got plenty of hoodies, dude."
But Mingyu just takes another casual sip of his ramen, his expression calm.
"Maybe," he says finally. "But this one smells good. It smells like you."
You freeze up. It smells... like me? Well, obviously, it fucking does𑁋
"Just bring it back to me when you're done with it," You say almost lamely, unsure if you wanted to laugh or flee to your room and hide.
"I mean, if you want it so bad I can take it off right no𑁋"
"No! Don't do that. Oh my gosh," You shoot a glare towards him, pursing your lips together tightly at the sight of him reaching for the ends of the hoodie like he was actually about to take it off... right in front of you. "You know what? I'm tired. Goodnight."
You're already marching off to your room in the middle of Mingyu bringing another mouthful of ramen into his mouth.
"Hey!" he calls out to you, nearly spitting out noodles in the process. "Where's my goodnight hug?"
You freeze at that in the middle of your doorway. Seriously, are you really in this deep to the point that you've made it a habit to hug each other before going to bed?
You hardly register Mingyu coming up from behind once you turn around to see him. His mouth is drooped into a pout, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you expectantly. It’s ridiculous how effortlessly adorable he looks, and your need to be annoyed at him falters each passing second.
"Fine," You relent, stepping forward to give him a very brief, obligatory hug. But the moment you feel his strong arms wrap around you even more, you know it’s not going to be a quick one.
Mingyu’s warmth seeps through the layers of your clothes and down to your core, and you find yourself relaxing against him, as if it was a natural response for your body to do. He squeezes you a little tighter, letting his chin resting lightly on top of your head. A low sigh escapes him.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
You close your eyes, only for a moment, letting yourself relinquish the way he holds you. It feels like everything you’ve been trying to ignore𑁋all laid bare in the simple act of a hug.
"Goodnight, Gyu."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look down at you, the features to his face softer than you’ve ever seen it. For a moment, you think he might say something more, because his lips seem to attempt at forming a word, yet nothing comes out. But then he simply smiles, and the seconds finally pass.
"Sleep well," he says quietly, releasing you reluctantly, and giving you a gentle pat on the head before heading back to the kitchen.
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You have your next date with Seokmin a week later.
You told Mingyu ahead of time as well, and he reacted the same way as last time𑁋nonchalant, playful, a pinch of tease, an averted gaze down towards his phone, and simply bidding you with a have a good time. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely unbothered or if he was just playing it cool, and the thought sort of irked you the entire day.
After Seokmin dropped you off home, you find yourself standing in front of the door to your place, as if you're trying to laser a hole through it with your eyes. Yet you simply huff a breath, fumble with getting the keys out of your bag and inserting it into the keyhole, before stepping inside.
And the fresh smell of food hits you.
It's really hard to not acknowledge the fact that Mingyu is quite literally a living, breathing chef sleeping in the same apartment as you.
Mingyu turns his head around, noticing you standing in the doorway, and lets his gaze scan over you from head to toe. He could see the bits of extra effort you put into your appearance today that he wasn't able to see earlier as he was out. There was a pink colour that dusted over your cheeks of the blush you probably put, a bit of glimmer to your eyes from some eyeshadow, and your lips glossed with a soft sheen that catches the kitchen light just right.
"Hey," he lets out airily, watching you place your bag on the table. "How was the date?"
You run a hand through your hair. "It was... It was good. Seokmin's really nice. He took me to a pizza place."
Mingyu stills at that for a second, lifting a brow in question. "I thought you don't like pizza."
"Well, yeah, but I said it was fine so𑁋"
"If he was going to take you out on more dates, then he should know what kinds of places you don't like to eat."
"I said I was fine with it, Gyu," You retort a bit harshly, immediately regretting your tone in the silence that instantly engulfs the two of you. "We ended up having a good time anyway."
The sounds of something cooking reverberate throughout your shared place. You watch the way Mingyu stirs something in a large pot with a pair of chopsticks, before taking it out, blowing on it a few times, and taking it into his mouth for a brief taste test.
When he puts the chopsticks back down and kills the heat on the stove, he faces back to you with his hands placed firmly on the counter.
"Did you two do anything else?"
The smell of the food makes your stomach rumble quietly, but you attempt to conceal it with clearing your throat. "What do you mean?"
"Like..." Mingyu motions something with his hands and you could only peer at him quizzically. "Like have you𑁋"
"Are… Are you about to ask me if we kissed?" You nearly want to scoff at that. "Do I look like the kind of person that kisses on the second date?"
Mingyu just laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. "I don't know. Do you?"
All you do is shrug your shoulders, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Well, no, we didn't kiss. We just... talked."
Mingyu seems to take in your words for a second, before nodding slowly. "Okay. That's... That's good."
The way he says it makes you feel a bit uneasy. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly acutely aware of how tired you are, both from the evening and from this conversation. Mingyu glances at you again, something apologetic forming in his eyes.
"Sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean to pry. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I know, it's... fine," You reply, though you're not sure if it is. "I'm just tired."
Mingyu gestures over to the pot on the stove. "I made some food if you're hungry."
You walk to the side of the kitchen where he's at, taking a peek inside the pot. "Is it...?"
"Yep!" Mingyu exclaims excitedly and steps up beside you, where you could practically feel his presence lingering right on your skin. "My signature jjajangmyeon. Your favourite."
Your stomach rumbles again, and you swear Mingyu hears it from the way his lips quirk up in a smirk down at you. You almost want to (affectionately) shove that expression off his face, but you don't, because his gaze toward you relaxes when you look back up at him. It's a look that feels familiar, comforting, and slightly intimidating all at once.
You feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.
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"I'm starting to think," Seokmin starts, loudly slurping up his cup of boba tea. "that this is a very bad idea."
You grimly shove the straw through the plastic and take a long sip, the flavours from the drink bursting in your mouth as you do so. You hear the loud screech of Seokmin bringing his chair closer to the table.
"I'm starting to think it is too."
Seokmin's eyes widen. "You are?" Then he scoots himself closer to you almost pleadingly. "Does that mean you're gonna tell him?"
"I..." You mentally want to facepalm yourself right now. "I don't know."
"Y/N!"
"I know! I know! I'm a coward!" You bury your face in your arms for a moment, letting out a few muffled groans at the cold surface of the table. "We're literally roommates and it complicates everything! There are times where I feel like there's just something a little... more to us, you know? I mean, do you usually give goodnight hugs to your roommate?"
Seokmin snorts a little at that. "I don't think Minghao would like it if I did that to him."
"Okay, okay. Just𑁋If your roommate wasn't Minghao and someone you liked, would you give them goodnight hugs too?"
You could tell Seokmin is genuinely thinking about the question. His lips purse together in thought, his hand running over the sides of his cup.
"If I liked them, I'd probably find any excuse to be close to them. Like sharing food, doing little favours here and there, wanting to hug them and stuff like that..." Seokmin admits a bit bashfully. "Isn't that what he does to you?"
"Yes, and it's driving me absolutely bonkers. And he... He knows a lot about me, you know? We've had, like, late-night talks and stuff. I've never gotten close with any other person like that. He's just so... ugh!" You glance up at Seokmin with helpless eyes. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess, Seokmin."
Seokmin chuckles lightly. "Hey, I only agreed to be your fake boyfriend because I owed you for saving my grades in class. I didn't realise the extent of how bad this is."
You glare at him playfully at that, lightly swatting him on the arm, but Seokmin just manages to dodge it and swipe your cup of boba tea away from you.
"Okay, but, hypothetically speaking. Let's say he does like you..."
You snatch your drink back and take a long sip, catching a boba pearl between your teeth. "Mhm..."
"And I know the whole point of this was to see if he'll get jealous," Seokmin continues. "but let's say he does like you, wouldn't that mean you're kind of... playing with his feelings?"
Seokmin's words make you pause mid-sip. With the straw between your lips, you contemplate his question as you stare blankly at the swirling boba tea. Playing with Mingyu's feelings𑁋could that really be what you're doing? The whole fake dating plan had started as a test of sorts to see if Mingyu would show any signs of jealousy. But now, as you're sitting here with Seokmin, you're starting to think you might have fucked up a bit. Maybe a lot.
"Because I think from all the details that you told me and how he acts around you," Seokmin pauses and fixes up his posture, looking at you with a lighthearted yet serious expression. "it sounds like he likes you. And if he does, pretending to date me is just going to hurt him. Or confuse him. Or both."
Your mind races with Seokmin's words, and you feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. "You think so?"
"I think it's pretty obvious, honestly."
"That's not reassuring at all."
"Well, you never know!" Seokmin exclaims. "Look, I'm no love expert. Maybe you two have been pining for each other the entire year but just don't have the guts to say anything about it. And if that's the case, you owe me another free meal, or a few them. You owe me another three free meals!"
You scoff at that before bringing the straw up to your mouth again, hoping that you could drink away the heat blooming within your face.
"Ugh, I'm getting headache𑁋"
"Isn't that Mingyu right there?"
You nearly spit out your drink at that, swearing you could hear the snap of your neck as you bring your head up to where Seokmin is looking with wide eyes. And low and behold, you spot Mingyu entering inside the boba shop.
He's not alone though; he's with a girl.
You feel your heart drop down to your feet as you watch them approach to the ordering counter. They seem comfortable with one another, even if you can't hear what they're saying, their easy smiles and relaxed body language twisting your insides into knots. Mingyu leans in slightly, saying something that makes the girl laugh, and you can't help but notice how effortlessly he charms her, just like he does with everyone.
A tap lands on your shoulder, and you face away to see Seokmin looking at you with worried eyes.
"Do you want to leave?" he mouths to you quietly.
You glance back toward Mingyu and the girl, and the second you see them turning in your direction, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the chair letting out an earth-shattering squeak.
And you freeze up.
"Y/N?"
You slowly turn around to see Mingyu and the girl approach the table. The first thing you notice is how pretty she looks, her long, flowing hair showering down her shoulders in soft waves. There's a cheery, whimsical aura that you can sense from her, and that seems to be enough to convince yourself that's the kind of personality that Mingyu likes.
"Hey," Mingyu calls out to you again, a smile to his face once he realises it's really you. Briefly, however, his lips seem to straighten out when he shoots a glance toward Seokmin. "I didn't know the two of you came here for your date."
Seokmin laughs a bit too obviously. "Yeah, man, what a coinc𑁋"
"We were just leaving, actually." You swiftly grab Seokmin by the wrist, tugging him toward you. Then you offer nothing but an unsteady grin. "I'll see you later, Mingyu."
You drag Seokmin out of the shop before hearing whatever Mingyu was saying, your heart pounding like a damn drum in your chest. You don't look back until you're safely outside and a long distance away.
You let go of Seokmin's hand to catch your breath. And when you manage to pick yourself back up, Seokmin's already peering at you with an amused look.
"What was that?" he asks airily, arching up a single brow. "Did you just run away from your roommate?"
"Be quiet," You hiss back at him, attempting to shove him but failing miserably. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh, you hear that?" Seokmin taunts annoyingly, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's the sound of jealousy."
You gulp down a lump in your throat. He's right. You are jealous.
"Dammit," You curse to yourself. "The whole fake dating thing... It was stupid. I thought that, maybe, if Mingyu got jealous, it would mean something. But now, seeing him with that girl..."
"It hit you hard."
"Yeah," You finish simply. "It did."
"And so..." Seokmin lightly nudges you with his hip. "what will the answer be?"
You only narrow your eyes at him, and the resigned sigh that you let out afterwards is enough to send Seokmin's excitement into orbit.
"Yes!" He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you relentlessly. "I'm getting free food!"
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Hours pass, and the ache in your chest hasn't eased.
You find yourself melting into the couch, anxiously tugging the ends of your sleeves as you replay the scene over and over back at the boba place. This stupid plan really had backfired on you big time, like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a kick to the heart𑁋all in one go.
Every detail from the way Mingyu and that girl walked in together, the ease with which they interacted, and the pang you felt in your chest from how perfect they appeared right next to each other𑁋it all played on a loop in your mind. You knew now that you have to confront your feelings, but the thought of it makes your stomach twist into a pretzel.
There's some random show playing on the TV in front of you, but you could care less at paying attention to it. The apartment is still quiet since Mingyu wasn't back yet, and you could only clench your fists together in a suppressed fit of panic.
"You're an idiot," You scold yourself, closing your eyes tightly. "A complete idiot. How could you be so stupid𑁋"
A rattle at the locks on the door shuts you up, and maybe the world stops spinning too. You feel yourself sink more into the couch out of anticipation.
When the door swings open, Mingyu steps inside, and you hear the rustling sounds of plastic bags. He peers around the apartment for a moment, and when his eyes land on you, he visibly relaxes.
"Y/N?" Even knowing that he's here, his voice still seems to catch you off-guard every single time. "I brought some ice cream for𑁋"
"I'm not dating Seokmin."
The silence that follows is almost suffocating. Mingyu drops the bag of ice cream on top of the kitchen counter, his gaze still not leaving yours. He blinks a few times, as if processing what you just said.
"You're... not?"
You shake your head, a knot forming in your throat. This is it.
"No, Gyu, I'm not dating him," You clarify, tone more serious this time. "We never dated. It was all fake."
All Mingyu does is continue to stand there under the dim lighting of the kitchen light. You can hardly decipher the expression on his face; it was something between confusion and surprise. You try to catch for signs of disappointment, but when he steps a tad bit closer to you, your mind goes a bit haywire.
"Why?" he finally questions after what seems like an eternity.
You take in a deep breath. "I was... I was stupid, okay? I... I thought that if I could make you jealous, it would mean something. That it would mean..." There's a brief pause as you rekindle yourself. "...that you liked me too."
Mingyu's brows furrow slightly in confusion, and you can't tell if the situation is getting worser or not; if the room was getting hotter and your skin was at the point of boiling; if all of this was already tumbling down before your eyes.
"Look, I know we're roommates. But sometimes I think𑁋I feel like there's more to that. We always hug… and flirt, and I..." You purse your lips together as your tongue struggles to grasp the right words. "I like you, okay? I fell for your stupid smile, your stupid hugs, your stupidly good cooking skills. I fell for everything about you. And I couldn't tell you that because I was scared of fucking everything up."
The room seems to hold its breath as you finish speaking. You feel awfully vulnerable right now, like you've laid bare your heart and soul and every single one of your insecurities. Mingyu only remains still, his eyes with surprise. The silence stretches on, and you find yourself gathering your thoughts together as if sensing impending doom.
You let your shoulders slouch in defeat. "It's fine if you don't feel the same way, we could just𑁋"
"I was jealous."
"𑁋pretend all this never happened𑁋what?"
"Of course I was jealous, Y/N." Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, the action all too endearing. "I was stupid too. For not telling you. For not taking the chance when I could. I was jealous when you talked about Seokmin, but I was also a coward for not wanting to screw anything up.”
You could only knit your brows together dazedly, gazing up at him as if he's said a foreign language. "You... were jealous? What about... what about the girl from earlier?"
"She's just a classmate from my English class, and she's interested in one of my other friends. We just happened to cross paths and I offered to grab boba so I could help her with𑁋"
"Shut up," You suddenly say firmly, and Mingyu does immediately, his focused, half-lidded eyes boring down into yours with a look that sends a jump to your stomach. That was all that you need to hear.
He's practically looming above you. You don't recall how exactly he got closer to you but you have nothing in you to complain. If anything, your feet drag you closer toward him, close enough you're able to smell the faint scent of his cologne and perhaps hear the way his heart is beating just as fast as yours.
With one of your hands, you reach up slowly, letting your fingers toy carefully with the collar of his shirt as you search his eyes for any sign of hesitation. But Mingyu's gaze softens, probably like it always has when he's with you, his breath hitching slightly as your touch lingers on his shirt, curling more into the fabric.
Then your lips tug up into a faint smirk, and you pull him down just slightly.
"Don't make me regret this, Kim Mingyu," is all you say before closing the gap and pressing your mouth against his.
He nearly melts right there at the touch of your lips together, but it doesn’t take him long to be kissing you back with more desperation than you expected. His hands slowly draw down your sides, bringing you even further into his embrace. The briefest contact of the tips of his fingers under your shirt makes you tense.
“I won’t,” he whispers in between kisses. “I won’t.”
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu
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@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @maesvtr0
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byeoltoyuki · 3 months
Text
Yeah, I hate you too
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↳ Pairing: Jisung x reader
❧ Genre: porn with little plot, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, fluff, fake texts
❧ Words: +3k
❧ Warnings: fingering, sexting (kind of), anal, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, spanking, masturbation, mention of toys
❧Summary : They think you're dating. Wrong. How could you date someone you hate so badly? Right?
❧ A/N: I wrote this on a whim and definitely didn't have time to proofread it, so I'm sorry if there's some mistakes. Hope you enjoy it either way!
***
“Where’s Jisung?” Changbin asked as his eyes darted back and forth between you and the empty spot beside him. Empty spot because it took Jisung only five minutes to find something better to do than be with his friends.
You shrugged, indifferent. “How would I know?”
“Aren’t you his girlfriend?”
Now that was confusing. “I’m not.” You scoffed at the idea.
You barely tolerated each other. The only reason you had been cordial, at best, with him was because he was Felix’s friend. The said man shook his head which only fuelled your annoyance. “What?” You took a sip of your drink to try to drown your annoyance and uneasy feeling.
Felix shook his head but the smug smile remained. The little shit. “Nothing.”
“You have this look!” You pointed at his face as if he had personally offended you. Well maybe a little. Nobody should be allowed to look this pretty.
“What look?”
“Felix.”
“Y/N.”
God, you loved your friend, you really did but he knew how to annoy the hell out of you. “What.is.it?”
Felix’s eyes shone brightly. And with mischief. He leant closer, arm brushing yours. “It’s cute how you think I don’t know about you and Jisung.” And he winked. The audacity.
You gasped loudly. “I’m not dating him!”
It wasn’t your intention to say it so loud and attract Changbin’s attention back on you. He quirked a brow at you and also leant closer, obviously interested in your statement. Fuck.
Felix’s smirk only widened. “Never said anything about dating.”
Fine. You had lied. You had a situationship with Han Jisung. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he annoyed you eighty percent of the time. But he sure knew how to use his mouth. And tongue. And cock. He got you addicted and you hated him even more for that.
Before you could share a piece of your mind with Felix, your phone’s screen lit. It distracted you. So easily.
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At his message, you almost dropped your phone. Count on Han Jisung to be this blunt. But then again, it probably was one of the reason you gave in so easily the first time he approached you.
His words alone brought back the same images you had been trying so hard to forget. Six days, 144 hours, 8640 minutes and still unforgettable. It was one of those nights; you were stressed with deadlines and loneliness was getting the best of you too. But then Jisung came to your place without notice, as if he owned the place, and disturbed all your plans at self-loathing. You tried of course to kick him out of your place, kicking and screaming – all he did was throw you over his shoulder and slap your ass strong enough to make you yelp in surprise. He brought you to your room and threw you on your bed. You weren’t even in the mood for sex, no matter how good it always was with him, but the look he had when he stared down at you set your body on fire.
Did he spend hours, or at least it felt like hours, nestled between your legs, feasting on you, marking you, teasing you till you were just a whimpering mess at his mercy, crying and writhing, begging for a release he wasn’t willing to give because you weren’t being nice to him. Absolutely. You hated how responsive your body was to him. Hated how he knew where to push, where to lick, where to suck, where to bite to make your toe curl, to bring tears to your eyes, to make you scream his name. He loved it, so bad, when you screamed his name.
When Jisung finally let you come, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t see and your body were spent. You didn’t think you would recover from such a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm. You told him so, knowing damn well how smug he would be, how pleased.
“What got into you?” You asked him, panting. You watched him remove his clothes, one by one, taking his sweet time. It was odd. He never took his time. Han Jisung was impatient and too eager ninety-five percent of the time. So why now?
Jisung’s smile turned wicked which set your alarms on alert. He was up to something. Something bad. And also probably incredibly delicious. But could you really do it? You tried to move your legs and winced.
Jisung crawled back on the bed, slowly, enjoying the view of your sweaty body, and all the marks he had left on your thighs. Such a beautiful woman and all for him to ravish. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He admitted.
“And how is it my fault?” You scoffed and tried to sound unfazed. Your body disagreed. Your stomach flipped, excited.
Jisung hovered over you, his body trapping you under him, lips dangerously close yours but still not touching while his hand, his damn hand, slid slowly from your breasts to your stomach. Feather-like touches that sent shivers down your spine. But his hand didn’t stop on your stomach, it travelled to your abused, still incredibly sensitive pussy; your hips jerked in response and a small whine left your lips.
“No.” You tried to move your body to escape his touch.
But Jisung only smiled. “No? Hmm.” He teased your clit despite your protest and you grabbed his arms, digging your nails into his skin. “And it is your fault. I couldn’t erase the image of you flirting with this dude from the bar. He was awfully touchy with someone that isn’t his.” And he couldn’t resist the urge: he gave your pussy a slap. Strong enough to make you yelp in surprise, but not strong enough to hurt you.
You couldn’t believe he was being possessive. Was it the same guy you had been butting heads with for the past two years? Was it the same guy that begged you one night to let you eat you out because you looked too gorgeous in a red silky dress? “He wasn’t that touchy.” You tried to defend yourself even if he was right. He had been too touchy which had earnt him a kick in his balls later but Jisung didn’t need to know that. You wanted to see how far he was ready to go to show you who you belong to.
But Jisung saw right through you. With his free hand he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. “Yeah? He touched this,” And his hand reached your ass. He gave it a strong squeeze before landing a first slap. You didn’t think you could get any wetter but you fucking did. “And this ass belongs to me, Y/N. You know it right?”
You were dying to say ‘no’, you didn’t belong to him and your ass certainly didn’t. But all your fire, all your protests died on your tongue when you felt his fingers dangerously close to your other hole.
“I believe this is the only place I haven’t claimed, right?” He hummed in satisfaction.
“Jisung,” You called for him, but why? You couldn’t tell whether you were scared to try something new or if you were excited. Probably both. “I-“
His fingers slid back to your dripping pussy. He gathered your juices and spread them around your other hole. He pushed a finger inside your ass and you gasped loudly. “Oh my god.” You mewled, shutting your eyes.
You couldn’t believe it. It felt weird and new. And so fucking good.
“I knew you would love it.” He chuckled. “Always knew you would let me completely defile you, wouldn’t you?”
And he added another finger, pushing slowly, filling you, stretching you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You couldn’t possibly survive this. But you definitely wanted it. “Yes.” You admitted.
Jisung chuckled as his fingers worked their magic. “Say it. Say you want me to fuck your pretty, little ass.”
“Please,” You begged.
He pulled out his fingers, leaving you empty and open. “And?”
You took a deep breath, realizing that he wouldn’t give you what you wanted unless you said those damn words. “Please Jisung, fuck my ass. I need it. Right. Now.”
Jisung snickered and flipped you with ease on your stomach. “Was it that hard?”
“Yes, asshole.” You managed to snap back.
Jisung only laughed at your weak attempt to fight back. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. “Such a nasty mouth.” He gave your ass another strong slap. “I’ll fuck it later too.”
‘As if!’ You wanted to say. But you felt his cock pressing to your hole. You sucked in a breath, tensing.
Jisung stroked your ass, trying to sooth you. “Relax, babe.”
Even if your mind wanted to fight him, your body obeyed.
He pushed slowly, inch by inch, struggling to control himself but despite his own needs, he kept a close eye on you, watching your every breath, your every wince. He wanted this experience to be enjoyable for you too and he knew you would love it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You didn’t think you could stretch anymore. You didn’t think you could ever feel this full. But it was exactly how you felt.
With one last thrust, he pushed all the way in. He groaned and closed his eyes to savour the feel of you around his cock. So tight, so nice, so pretty.
You fisted the sheets, needing something to hold on to. Or to destroy.
He pulled out slowly only to push back in. “Fuck babe, you feel so fucking good. So good I could die. Fuck.”
Jisung took his time with you, his thrust slow and as gentle as possible. It hurt and you squeezed the sheets tightly. But it also felt divine. Quickly, you found yourself wanting more, needing more, to relieve the itch. So you pushed back and he smiled in delight.
“Someone is excited.” He commented.
You were and you didn’t care anymore. “Show me what you can do, pretty boy.” You provoked him.
Jisung halted and hovered over your back. His warm breath caressed your cheek and then your ear. “Remember that you asked for it.” And he slammed hard into you, picking up his pace.
“Shit.” You moaned loudly, unable to hold back.
Jisung showed you no mercy. Every thrusts shattered and remade you. Every thrusts brought pleasure unknown to you. You didn’t think you could feel this good. You didn’t know if it had anything to do with Jisung and you didn’t care anymore. You took everything he gave you; every push of his cock, every groan, every dig of his fingers into your skin.
Jisung’s fingers slid to your clit and you almost collapsed at the new sensation. His thrusts along with his fingers playing with your clit brought you to the edge quicker and with so much strength. You barely registered when your body tensed and completely let go. You simply split apart with a sharp cry, waves of pleasure wrecking your body.
“Such a good girl.” Jisung didn’t stop. He used your body to seek his own climax. “And I can’t fucking get enough of you. I hate you for that.” But you barely heard him, still lost to your own pleasure. “Fuck, fuck.” Jisung came with a loud groan, pulling out to paint your ass with his release.
Fuck. You clenched your thighs tightly at the unwanted memory. You squeezed your phone tightly in your grip as if it had personally offended you. Your face flushed and you cursed under your breath. You weren’t supposed to get all horny in the middle of the bar. You weren’t supposed to let Jisung affect you so badly. But boy you were.
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You tried to save yourself with this message. The bar wasn’t crowded and the lights were dimmed. There was no way he could see your state or your blush. Right?
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Fuck. Your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were wet. Too fucking wet. You could ignore Jisung’s messages and suggestions, it was hella tempting since he was the one responsible for your state. Or you could leave and take care of your little problem without inviting him. That would piss him off and serve him right. You liked this plan better.
“I’m leaving.” You told Felix as you got back on your feet and readjusted your dress.
Felix eyed you with a cocked brow. “Why? You just go there.”
Something told you that whatever excuses you come out with, Felix wouldn’t believe you. Not when he was smirking like that. He knew something but you refused to delve into the matter. Nope. Not tonight. Not when your body was on fire. Not when your pussy was clenching desperately. “I’m tired.” You said and grabbed your bag.
“Tired.” Felix repeated your words with a poor imitation of your voice. “Sure thing, sweet. See you later.”
***
By the time you got to the safety of your home, your mind was plagued with images of Jisung between your legs. You couldn’t believe that your brain would think of him when you could have pictured anyone, anything. But you didn’t fight back those thoughts. You didn’t have time nor the will. Your body was too needy.
You took your heels and threw them somewhere on the ground. You hurried to get rid of your dress and your, now, completely ruined panties. I’ll make him pay another time. You threw yourself on your bed and readjusted your pillows to get as comfortable as possible.
A deep sigh of relief escaped your parted lips. Finally. You closed your eyes, Jisung’s face immediately invaded your thoughts and you let him. You let the image of him guide your hand to your breast and to your hard nipples that were begging for attention. You squeezed and pinched and let out small moans. You relaxed instantly, revelling in the different sensations.
You let your hand slid slowly from your breast to your stomach, drawing invisible circles on your skin before reaching between your legs, the place that most needed your attention. You took it slow; gentle rubs, circling your clit, letting the pleasure spread all over your body. Your fingers slipped inside your soaked pussy and you arched your back, imaging that it wasn’t your fingers but the most annoying person’s ones.
“Fuck.” You mewled.
“Now that’s a sight I’m not ready to ever forget.” Jisung’s annoying (sweet) voice interrupted your thoughts.
Your eyes snapped open and you almost jolted out of your bed. “What the fuck?!”
No. He couldn’t possibly be there. How could he?  Were you that tired that somehow you started hallucinating? But no, as you looked at him standing by your door, licking his lips, his eyes darker than ever, you realized that he was not a piece of your imagination. “What, how?”
Jisung twirled the keys to your place and smirked. “Spare keys.”
You frowned, your dizzy mind having a hard time to catch up with his words. “I didn’t give you the spare keys to my place.”
Jisung nodded. “No. you didn’t.” He put them back in his pocket, proud of the effect he had on you. His eyes quickly slid to your spread legs and you realized too late that he had a perfect view of the mess you were. “Felix gave me the keys.”
The little shit! You knew he was up to something. You would make sure to make him pay later for not minding his damn business.
“Don’t be so angry, babe.” Jisung cooed, reading your emotions so easily. “Instead, show me how you play with yourself, hm?”
The ache between your legs returned so quick it almost knocked you out. This man and his voice had such a strong hold on you. You couldn’t help but obey and forget all about your annoyance.
“Tell me, what were you imagining while having your fingers inside this sweet pussy, hm?” Jisung asked as he watched your fingers disappear inside you. He licked his lips, drooling at the beautiful sight. He wanted nothing more than replace your fingers with his and with his tongue but for once, he fought his own needs. He grabbed the chair in the corner of your room at put it right before your bed so he could have the best view.
“You.”
“Me?” He feigned surprise. “And what exactly was I doing in your imagination?”
“You were sucking on my clit with those pretty lips of yours while your fingers were stretching me nicely.”
“Shit.” Jisung groaned to himself. He could imagine it so easily. He unzipped his jeans and took out his hard cock dripping already with pre-cum. Jisung fell into rhythm with you, matching your energy as he worked his hand around his cock. “Add another finger.”
And you obeyed. “Look at me.” He ordered. And you did once again. You moaned at the sight. You didn’t think watching Jisung touch himself would fuel your own desire, your own pleasure but it did. You almost came right on the spot.
But the itch was still there. No matter how hard you played with yourself you were still unsatisfied. You couldn’t reach as deep as he could. “Jisung. Please. I need you.”
Jisung chuckled. “Do you now? I think you’re doing pretty well on your own.” But truth was, he needed you too. So fucking badly. He needed, desperately, to sink his cock inside your pussy. He needed to feel your walls around his cock, squeezing him, begging for more.
“Am not. I need you. Please.” You begged shamelessly. You took out your fingers and spread your pussy for him to see. “Look. I need you.”
Jisung gulped, his willpower slowly crumbling. How could he resist now? “Me? Or my cock?”
“Both. Please?”
Jisung ruffled his hair in frustration. “Fuck.” He left his spot, hurried to take all of his clothes and almost jumped on your bed. He grabbed your legs with so much strength, you yelped in surprise. He spread you wider for him. He let his fingers slid from your clit to your entrance, testing how wet you were. “Babe, you’re dripping. All for me?”
“All for you.”
“So pretty.” He took his cock and nudged it playfully against your pussy, making you mewl and push your hips in need. “And mine.” He plunged inside you with one powerful thrust that made the two of you groan.
You closed your eyes, feeling all of him. Hard and deep inside you. And so damn perfect. A part of you didn’t want it to feel so good but the one that didn’t care, savoured the stretch, the fullness.
“Y/N, I think I’m in love.” Jisung confessed as he pulled out slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, torturing you with how slow and gentle he was. You didn’t want slow. You didn’t want gentle. Not when you were so consumed with need and lust. You wanted him to wreck you.
“With me or my pussy?” You managed to joke and chocked when he slammed back. “Fuck.” You arched your back. He sure knew how to make you shut your mouth.
Jisung didn’t answer your question and you forgot all about it as he started thrusting. Just like you hoped and prayed. Hard. Deep. Making you hold your sheets tightly as you met his thrusts with your own.
“Harder.” You begged unable to think about anything else but him and his cock deep inside you.
“As you wish.” His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your skin that would leave marks – you didn’t care. You let him use you as he saw fit. You let him pound into you.
The sound of his grunts, of your moans and slap of skin was slowly driving you mad. The rhythm he set got you writhing and begging for release in no time. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you, feeling his body crashing you under him, as you claimed his mouth in a desperate and needy kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth, damn proud of your state.
“I hate you.” You bit on his lips and he fought back with a powerful thrust. “So fucking,” And another. “Much.” And another.
Jisung kissed you back with as much needs. He was just as desperate for release as you were and so damn close. He tried to distract himself, to keep his control. He needed you to come. Right fucking now. One hand slipped between your bodies and he played with your clit as he kept pounding into you. Pinching it. Rubbing it. He left you no choice. He pushed you over the edge.
“Fuck!” Your back arched as your orgasm slammed into you. Your whole body shuddering as Jisung didn’t stop. He fucked you through your release, not slowing down even for a second. And you held onto him, strong and tight, and watched as he lost himself to his own pleasure. You watched him close his eyes as he slammed one last time and released himself.
Jisung slowly pulled out of you and took a second to admire his work. Your fucked up face. Your sweaty body. Your abused, dripping pussy. “Bloody hell. So damn beautiful.” He couldn’t stop himself from pushing back his fingers into your sensitive pussy to push back his cum inside you.
“Don’t. I can’t.” You begged and wriggled, trying to escape his dangerous fingers. You were completely and utterly spent. You couldn’t take more. But telling this to Jisung wasn’t your brightest idea. It only fuelled him more.
“But you look so pretty and yummy. How can a man resist?” And he brought his fingers to his mouth. Covered with both his and yours release. You gawked at him at you swore your pussy clenched again with need at the sight. He cleaned his fingers, humming in satisfaction.
“By the way,” He rolled to the side and pulled your body flushed against him. “I think I’m in love with both.” He admitted and kissed your head. “You and your pussy.”
You couldn’t believe him. He sure knew how to woo a woman. “Such a romantic.”
Jisung smiled sheepishly at you. “Isn’t it why you like me?”
“Tolerate you at best.” But you hid your face into his chest, refusing to show him your pink cheeks or the smile that spread on your face.
“Liar.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already did. But we can do it again.” Jisung was in a mood. “So I can show you just how much I love you. And how much you love me too.”
Yeah. You liked the sound of it.
2K notes · View notes
lufyuu · 3 months
Text
''River's Quest..?,,
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Protagonist Oc [River!] x Bottom male Reader
Part 2! Part 1
Tw/s: overstimulation, rough rough sex, face fucking, dacryphilia, hair grabbing/pulling, jealous River, public sex, almost caught, a bit of degration, a bit of praising, a bit of edging.
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[Loading...]
[System]
—Quest started—
`Click here for details`
Recently, you've made a new friend and River's been pouty about it even if you dont know the reason behind his poutiness. Not only that, he had become even more clingy than before, where ever you went, he was always not too far behind, making you feel a bit suffocated. It all started not too long ago. How you met your new friend, that is.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
"Hey can we be partners?", a feathery voice asked as a finger tapped your shoulder. This is the first time anyone has asked you to be their partner in a project, ever since that incident. Everyone's been too nervous to partner up with you seeing as River is always around you. Well, almost anyway. Today was different, River had a very important project to attend to, leaving you all alone in class. The moment the guy had asked you to partner up, it was immediately followed by the other classmates surrounding you with the same question, shoving the shy classmate aside. "Can we be partners!?", they all giddily said, making you feel overwhelmed at the sudden focus. You knew it was all because they wanted to get in River's good graces seeing as you're the closest person to him at the moment. Even closer than Aria, his very own 'girlfriend.' With the whole classroom being filled with the cacophony of voices, everyone wanting you to partner up with them, the teacher had no choice but to slam the board to get everyone's attention. "Everyone calm down, you're all being way too loud for anyone's liking, especially [Name]'s, how on earth will he be able to choose with you all talking on top of each other?" Thankfully, they all stayed quiet for a moment, looking at you with anticipation.
You decided to go with the guy who didn't try to make you go deaf, the one who had the guts to ask you in the first place before the domino effect took place. In all honesty, you should have paid more attention to the way his eyes scanned you up and down before sitting next to you.
"Thanks", he says, looking into your eyes for no reason in particular. You nod and begin to workout the project, pulling out your notes and laptop. "Let's start it right now since the deadline's pretty tight." Without your knowledge, he continues to stare at you even though you aren't looking directly at him. He eventually does snap out of it after you look at him, confused on why he's staring. Directing his focus on the task at hand. "Yeah..definitely", his voice sounded like a kid who was caught with his hand inside a cookie jar.
Reviewing over the material together, the two of you eventually map out the entire project, splitting the material between the both of you. You had the task of making the presentation while he had the task of condensing the material to make it easier to digest. You press on the power button on your laptop, expecting it to boot up immediately. Only to be greeted with a black screen. "Huh? I could've sworn I charged it last night", you scratch your head, confusion plastered on your face. "What's wrong?", he asked, despite his words, you felt it was void of any worry. You shake your head, "it's nothing, I'll just make the presentation at my dorm and send it to you afterwards", you begin to put back your notes and laptop into your bag. Coincidentally, the bell suddenly rings, indicating the end of class and school altogether. Though, before you could get up from your chair, you felt a tight grip on your wrist, stopping you. "Can I come over? It'll be much more efficient and effective", he smiles, expecting you to agree, "I don't know about that...", you hesitate since nobody from campus has ever been in your house, apart from your close friends that is. But, no harm would be done right? It's just a simple presentation.
Click! the lock clicked open as you turned the key. You grab the handle and pull it, opening the door to your dorm. Peaceful and quiet. Those are the words not a lot of students who live in dorms can use to describe their place due to having a messy roommate or what not. Fortunately for you, your roommate had moved out not long ago, leaving the whole dorm to yourself. "No roommate?" "nope", you answer simply, getting the point across quickly. "Take a seat on the sofa, I'm just going to put my things down, and we can get started", you grab your laptop out of your bag before placing it near your bed. The laptop is placed on your desk, you plug it in and make sure that this time it's on. The last thing you want now is to prolong the guy's stay. You sit down next to him, notes in hand. "Oh right, I never got your name", he perks up at this, "it's Trav!", "nice to meet you, Trav, I'm–", "[Name], yes I know", he cuts you off almost excitedly. He really is unpredictable. Partly because of this, the atmosphere becomes awkward, the two of you not having any topics to bring up.
"Well...Do you want a drink? I can make us some hot chocolate or tea if you prefer that", you try to break the awkward silence with a question, "some hot chocolate sounds nice", he nods as he says this. You get up to boil some water as you get two cups and two packets of hot chocolate mix. "Hope you don't mind instant hot chocolate", you chuckle, "of course not", you could hear him laugh a bit aswell. At least you managed to break the awkwardness for just a moment. The whole time you were making the hot chocolate, you felt him starin at you but whenever you turned around, he wouldn't be looking at you at all. This whole thing was kinda creeping you out but what could you do? You were the one who picked him to be your partner in the first place.
With two cups of hot chocolate in your hands, you head back to the couch and hand him a cup. He thanks you and takes a sip of the drink, "delicious!", he says while looking at you, not paying attention to the cup as some of the liquid spills onto your shirt, "ow shit!", you wince, feeling the hot chocolate on your skin. Seeing this, Trav remains calm, reaching over to grab a few tissues and wiping your shirt a bit, "I think you should take this off", you nod, you'll just change to another shirt, no big deal. You tug your shirt over your head, your hair being ruffled a bit and you get up to toss it in the laundry basket. Trav stared at your half naked body, oogling at your frame before you finally find a sweater to put on, ending his wandering eyes from looking even more.
It's been a month since your first meeting with Trav. You noticed his shy persona going away little by little. Now he's definitely more confident. At least he has the confidence to be 'jokingly flirtatious' with you. Not to mention you surprisingly haven't gotten a love quest ever since you started hanging out with Trav more than River. River took notice of this quickly. He was only gone for a day, and you already made yourself a friend? A friend who dares to flirt with you no less. Do you not know who you are? You ought to be more careful.
Due to this, River has been even more protective of you. He even holds your hand tightly in class under the table. And at this moment, he'd doing exactly that. His fingers intertwined with yours, unwilling to let go even if your hand's sweating. "Let go of my hand—", "no", he answers firmly, not even looking at you as though it was an obvious answer. You huff, you've tried to pull away but his grip's too strong. It just ends up with him pulling the "puppy" eyes on you, making you sigh in defeat almost everytime. "That's all for today's material, please don't forget to turn in your work tomorrow morning on my desk", the teacher says as she walks out the door with the class finally over. You thought you'd be free from River's grip, but no, he was still holding your hand when you got up. "Where are you going?", he asked, looking up at you to which you reply, "none of your business", if this was a cartoon, an irk mark would have appeared on your forehead. You've barely had enough time to yourself, let alone with friends after getting into River's sight. "Let go", your tone somewhat frustrated, hoping he'd let go. This of course, doesn't work, "I'll go with you—", "hey River, can you help me with this?", a random classmate comes up to his desk, handing him a big stack of paper, he reaches for the papers with both hands, letting go of yours in the process and leaving an opening for you to finally sprint out of class to hang out with your friend.
You thought River would follow you but when you look back, he's nowhere to be seen, making you let out a sigh of relief rather than defeat. Looking around, you find yourself at the end of a hallway connecting to a garden. You check your phone to see it's 3:10PM. Trav had promised to meet you here so the two of you could walk home together after he showed you something in the garden. But it seems like he's running a bit late considering it's been 10 minutes since the promised time. You were late too but considering he hasn't even arrived yet, you were quite early. You decide to give him a call. *ring* *ring*, but no answer. "Did his teacher hold him back?", you wonder as you stand there waiting for him to show up.
After a couple more minutes, you felt a pair of hands covering your eyes, covering your sight. "Trav?", you guess only to hear a very pouty, "Trav!?" Turning around, you were met face to face with River, "you thought I was Trav?", his expression turns gloom, disappointed and blue. Seeing this, you roll your eyes, he's probably pretending like he always is to get your sympathy, "I was expecting Trav to show up, he's running a bit late", you explain the situation with a tired look, "kindly fuck off", you smile with a hint of anger. It's been ages since you walked home with a friend, he should at least let you breathe once in a while. Just as you say that, he grabs your wrist, pulling you to the storage room, which is conveniently placed within that hallway, not letting you slip away.
He closes the door with one hand, the other still gripping your hand just as hard. "[Name], you have no idea what Trav will end up doing. You do know who you are, don't you?", he asks as if it's the mosy obvious question in the world. You squint your eyes in confusion, "what do you mean?", he opens his mouth to say something but stops to rub his forehead a bit, "have you not checked the system window?", this made you even more confused, what reason would you have to check it? You shake your head. He stays silent for a bit, his face looks as if he's finally put one and one together. A sigh is let out before he speaks, "so that's why you've been so idiotic and oblivious", you're clearly offended by this statement, no, this lie. "Excuse you."
"You've made me upset, [Name]", he pouts once more, "you know, I was actually starting to think you liked him", he says with another sigh, a sigh of relief this time, "who?", you ask, confused still, "Trav!", he says in a slightly louder voice, your hand free of his grasp by now. You couldn't help but laugh at his admittion, "so..Let me get this straight, you were being an annoying bastard just because you got jealous of Trav?", you couldn't stop laughing. The mere thought of a protagonist getting jealous of an unimportant role was just hilarious. This comment made him frown, his emotions are not to be taken lightly. He'll definitely show you.
[System]
—River's Quest—
Accept the punishment given
"The what quest?", you raise an eyebrow at the title. On the other hand, River had a knowing smirk plastered on his face, the frown long gone. "I guess the system's on my side huh?", you look up at him, no longer distracted by the window as it closes by itself as always. You stare at him with a 'on your side? Please' look. "[Name], get on your knees", you chuckle, "you think I'd just do that? That's ridiculous—", just as you say those words, your knees give out on you, making you get on your knees infront of River with your phone being dropped on the floor next to you. Infront of his crotch. "You're such a good boy", he smiles with his eyes closed, happy at your obedience, "what just...", "what just happened? My dear angel, have you forgotten I'm the protagonist?", his hand extends to grab a handful of your hair, bending down a bit to meet eye to eye. His eyes intimidating like a predator's. Like someone who already knows the outcome. He stares at your eyes. You feel as if he's staring into your soul, you're terrified of this feeling, of him, of what he's able to do.
"Let go..", you manage to mumble out despite your fear. He tilts his head a bit in satisfaction hearing your weak voice. "Alright then", he lets go of your hair, you look down, trying to calm down from the fear you just experienced when, zippp, you hear a zipping sound coming nor too far from your face. Looking up, you see River already taking his hard-on out. You're once again face to face with his girthy cock. "Angel..Suck it", his eyes full of lust, you could have sworn there were hearts in them. You instinctively reach out for his cock, wrapping your hands around it before letting your lips wrap around his tip, earning a very satisfied huff, "that's it...go down on my cock", he encourages you to shove his dick deeper in your mouth, down your throat. You slowly but surely take more and more of him in your mouth, trying your best to not accidentally choke in the process which grows increasingly hard after a few seconds, you forgot how long he actually is. You look up to see his hand hovering over his mouth incase he accidentally moans too loud. Even if classes have ended for the day, it doesn't mean there aren't students still lurking around. "You can do better than that", he says as you've taken about half of his cock in your mouth. You wanted to throw a snarky comment at him but with your mouth full, you couldn't utter a single word, so you opted to glare at him instead. "A glare won't stop me from doing this", he says as you feel him grab another handful of your hair and making you take all of him in your throat. You choke, whine, and even shed a few tears due to the unexpected choking sensation. You could hear River let out a loud moan. Just you were adjusting, you felt River's grip tighten as he pulls you back until your lips were only touching the tip before pushing you back down, "what a shame Trav isn't here to see you choking on my cock", he smirks before repeating the move over and over again for a few seconds.
"[Name]?", speak of the devil, Trav is finally here. He calls out your name in the hallway. You can hear him so close to you, hindered by a single brick wall. You hear your phone buzzing on the floor, "what a bother..", River sighs, grabbing your phone and turning on do not disturb mode, putting it in his pocket to ensure it stays that way. "He isn't even answering the phone", Trav sighs as his footsteps get closer and closer to the storage room. River only tells you to "keep sucking." Those words alone were enough to make you keep sucking his cock even without him face fucking you. The door to the storage room slowly opens, "oh, River, have you seen [Name]?", the confused man asks, thank God you and River are behind stacks of boxes, Trav is unable to see the way you're sucking River so good. "[Name]? I haven't seen him since class ended, why?", River answers calmly as Trav scratches his head, "really? I could have sworn I heard his phone buzzing around here", he thinks to himself for a moment while River tries to hold in his groans and moans. "What are you doing here anyways?", Trav asks, taking a step into the room which makes you panic a bit hearing his voice get closer. River chuckles at your panicked expression, he then grips your hair to make sure your head stays in place, with all of his length in your mouth, doen your throat. "Please refrain from stepping any closer, I'm tidying up and wouldn't want any dust coming off of you", he smiles softly, admittingly a fake smile, at Trav, causing him to back away. "Oh alright then, don't let me disturb you", he says as he finally walks away, closing the door on his way out.
River turns his attention to you, eyes filled with tears, mouth filled with his cock, you could even taste his precum. You feel a tug at your hair, signaling for you to continue. You try your best to satisfy him, licking and sucking his cock so good. When you look up at him, you see his bored expression, "how do you expect me to cum when you're sucking like that?", he asks, expecting more from you. In order to satisfy himself, he starts to face fuck you, thrusting into your mouth once more, harder and faster this time to chase his climax. You could feel tears rolling down your cheeks, why is he so rough. "Now this...agh..is how to please me", he says in-between moans and breaths. You had a hard time breathing but it'd all be over soon as you could hear River say he's about to cum. "Don't swallow it yet", is what he says before cumming in your mouth, pulling out to see his thick cum overflowing your mouth, spilling a bit on the floor, "open your mouth", he demands which you obey. "Good", your mouth filled with cum, not being able to swallow due to his orders. "You took me so well, you can swallow now", he has a mischievous look on his face, fantasizing about all the things he can and will do to you in this very storage room.
"I've really been holding this in, won't you do more for me? You've been neglecting me these past few days and giving your attention to that pesky man", he refuses to say his name at this very moment in order to not ruin his own mood. Truth be told, Trav got under his skin simply for being around you. "[Name], stand up", your body moves by itself, letting you stand up on both your legs whjch were previously weak beyond belief. With his rough hands, River bends you over on one of the boxes, fortunately, it's stable enough to withstand the force. "You're so pretty, it's no wonder he'd want you", he scans your features and your clothed body, "but you're mine", he proceeds to grab your clothes and rip it into two. You cover yourself with your hands, "what was that for!", he doesn't answer, he only trails his hands down your chest, groping and squeezing your nipples to try and get a reaction out of you, which it does. "Ah..!", you moan out a bit, the sensation painful yet you feel pleasure at the same time. "I'm glad you're still as sensitive as last time we fucked", he turns his attention to your pants which without any hesitation, he pulls down with your boxers along with it leaving you naked. "R-River! We're still in school, what if someone sees, the door can't be locked you know!", you try to salvage what was left of your shirt but River beats you to it and throws them on the ground where you can't reach the pieces. "That's precisely why I want to fuck and mess you up here, angel", he pauses and then continues, "if anyone were to walk in here, they'd know you're fully mine, nobody else's."
With that reminder, he lifts up one of your legs and places it over his shoulder, that way, you cant close your legs even if you wanted to, giving him an easy access to your hole. "We haven't done it in a while, will you even be able to take it all the way in?", his teasing reminds you of all the times the two of you did this sort of act in class without anyone noticing due to whatever magic the system performed. "Damnit, if you're going to fuck me, stop talking and do it already!", you cover your face due to how red it is by now.
River doesn't say a single word. Instead, he uses two fingers to stretch you out, taking you by surprise once more as you moan loudly. God you hope nobody's near this specific hallway, if there is someone, both you and River would be found out. "You like that don't you? To have something of mine in you, you love it. Just wait for my cock to be inside of you", he can't stop the dirty talk when it comes to you.
You can feel his fingers stretching you out, moving around. His fingers are long and knows how to turn you on even more than you already are. You let out a string of moans, the pleasure being unreal. Even after a few minutes, you still writhed in pleasure from his fingers alone.
Your hole suddenly felt weirdly empty, you look at him to see him retracting his fingers. You look on, knowing his cock was going to enter you soon. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck, he positions his cock to be at your entrance and grabs your waist, "I'm not going to go easy on you angel", you swore his pupils were hearts for a second, his lust filled eyes looked into yours. In just a second and without any sort of warning, he thrusts all the way into you, you let out a mixture of a moan and a scream, the pain and pleasure mixing together until you can't form thoughts, all you can do is spill out even more tears. "Hah...all in one go, you're amazing angel", his praises go unnoticed by you due to how your eyes are rolling back from pleasure. Your hands which were once around his neck, scratched his back a bit. Fortunately for River, it did not tear skin. "Be careful there, I'll be leaving campus with blood all over my back if you keep doing that", he joked. Even you knew that he wouldnt mind that kind of thing. Infact, he'd probably love your scratches on him, it's as if you're 'marking' him in some way.
Once you clamed down from the initial shock, he wasted no time and started to thurst in and out of you. Hitting your spots just right as you moan out of pleasure from your academic rival. "Moan out my name angel, I want to hear it", even though you're a mess at this moment, you manage to say his name, "Ri-Riv...ahh...River!", with your shaky voice saying his name, he lets out a very satisfied hum and continues to pound your little hole, abusing it all while you're too weak to do anything about it. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. River certainly noticed this. In order to stop you from cumming so fast, he places his thumb over your cock head, you look at him, almost terrified at what he's doing. "You're not going to cum unless I let you, got it?", he's getting back at you for all those times you ditched him for Trav. "We're going to have a long, long day ahead of us."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Seven.
River has been abusing your hole with his cock for seven rounds. The only reason you know is because River himself kept count. He made sure to count every single round. It doesn't seem like he'll stop either. Both your bodies sweating, dripping with sweat by now. The room became humid, it felt as if the whole world stopped for just the two of you. You lost track of time, your perception of time ruined by how rough River has been fucking you. A minute feels like an hour because of him not letting you rest for even a second. You thought you'd die from pleasure if that was even a possible cause of death. Too much sex? That's one way to die.
With this being the eigth round, colors began to mix together, you lost focus a few rounds ago, only being able to see River's face, feeling the rhythm of his cock going and out of you. "N-no...more...", you somehow manage to mumble out."One more time..Angel", he responds as he's panting heavily, hands still gripping your waist like steel. With one final deep thrust to your prostate, you shiver as your cock releases more cum on your stomach along with River's cum which spilled into your hole once more, you could see a pool of cum on the floor and boxes. "Atta boy..", was all you heard before passing out right then and there.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
When you did awake, you were in River's arms. You look at him and blink a couple of times, covering your mouth as you yawn a bit. "Huh..?", you stare at River's resting face. He looks so peaceful, unlike the River who basically teases the shit out of you for a living. Thinking of it alone made you pissed so you let go of the thought to savor this very moment. You reach out one hand to stroke his hair a few times, his soft fluffy brown hair felt like a cloud. He opened his eyes and smiled at you, "enjoying the view, [Name]?", there he goes going back to his teasing self. You instantly retract your hand, "no", you simply answered and closed your eyes once more. He wouldn't let you avoid him that easily though. "Heyyy look at mee", he pouts, trying to get you to open your eyes with a few soft nudges. You eventually caved in and the two of you met eye to eye. "Angel, you're gorgeous", he says out of the blue, "where did that even come from", you giggle a bit from the sudden compliment, "can't I compliment my boyfriend!?", "boyfriend? We're not even dating yet", you say that but you definitely saw the appeal in it. "Cmonn, admit it, you like me dontcha [Name]?", he has a cheeky smile, he knows he's hard to resist, almost impossible to resist to be very honest. "Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?", "maybeeeee what do you say?", he gets up, using his palm to rest his head as he looks at you, "do you want to be?", you pretend to think about it, "hm, after you've fucked me over 10 times? I don't know..", you respond sarcastically before eventually laughing at your own words, "I assume that's a yes", he laughs too before tackling you and getting on top of you. He leans for a kiss but you suddenly remember something.
"River, why was Trav able to see you..? Plus why was the quest even named after you???", you ask, usually the love quests would make the both of you invisible to others, why was it different that time? And especially the sudden title change??"I'm the protagonist silly, I can do whatever I want with the system— oops, cat's out of the bag", he says nonchalantly, "you WHAT!?", you yell in shock, turns out the rumour is real afterall, "ah ah, don't go around telling people this, it wouldn't be as fun if everyone knew", he sighs a bit but you could tell it wasn't all that serious to him.
[System]
Welcome, [Name] [L. Name], after completing the quest, you have been registered as The Protagonist's other half
With the window basically in your face, you read it out loud and get shocked once more, causing you to get up and suddenly lose all feeling in your two legs. Fortunately for you, River caught you in time. "I fucked you real good huh?", he chuckles while you're in his arms basically processing information and the fact you'd probably not be able to go to classes for 3 days because of how rough River fucked you. "River you damn horny bastard!"
Needless to say, River had to carry you around for about 3 days. He doesn't regret it one bit as this showed everyone the two of you are a thing now. Eventually even Trav stayed away from you due to the glares River would throw his way everytime he got close. Whenever someone got close enough to ask what had happened, River would answer in the most brutally honest way he could.
"I fucked him too hard"
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And it's finally out yall the wait is over😘‼️ its currently 5AM and I'm posting this lmao
×For a bit of context, reader had always had the role of being River's love interest ever since he slept with River, he only never bothered to check the system roles, however, River and Trav do know that reader's their goal/possible love interest which is why theyre kinda all over reader. Trav is River's love rival which is why he hates it whenever Trav breathes, he wishes he would js drop dead.
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kings-highway · 5 months
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haikyuu airport headcanons bc im in an airport. no particular order. shipping involved.
- Daichi has never missed a flight and somehow everyone manages to make fun of him for this. never forgets to pack anything. always finds his gate on time. "lmao loser," Suga says, missing 2 bags and lost as fuck across the airport. he will not make his flight.
- Hinata and Kageyama navigating an airport is nearly a crisis. They can never agree on the right way to go and especially during layovers will often end up outside of security. The first time they travel with Tsukki + Yama as a group it's like a goddamn miracle because they dont need to rush and everything goes smoothly.
- on that topic, Tsukki and Yamaguchi have travel down to a science. these bitches have checklists and schedules and just get in and out. Tsukki keeps the boarding passes and Yamaguchi counts the bags and they split snacks on the plane and just nail the whole affair
- Noya and Asahi are the most experienced travelers and have been to so many airports and you'd think this makes them good at airports and it does not
- Ushijima has never gotten through security without being searched.
- Oikawa likes airports an unreasonable amount. Bitch thrives in liminal spaces. "Lets go check out which stores are open," he says, as Iwaizumi begs him to let him sit down and nap during their layover
- Kenma has airport anxiety. "We're going to miss our flight. What if our gate changes?" What if there's a delay?" He does not like putting his schedule into the hands of an Airline. Rightfully so, he loses his luggage an obscene amount.
- Kageyama and Hinata fighting and causing a ruckus in the airport and security has to come over to talk to them
- Tendou and Ushijima are generally really prepared and on top of things, but they just seem to have the worst luck. They got stranded at an airport during a layover for like 14 hours and went through every stage of grief. It doesnt help that Ushijima is really practical and good at accepting circumstances ("I'll just sit here and wait") but Tendou is highly emotional ("I'm going to eat the next airline associate that tries to talk to me.")
- Daichi is often seen standing alone in airports. This is because no matter who he's traveling with, he's probably waiting for them to catch up.
- Aran thought he was a good and functional adult until he saw Kita's itinerary for their travel plans and how neurotic he was about making sure everything on time. Kita will pre-measure and weigh all luggage to know exactly whats going on. Looking at airport layouts days before to memorize what needs to be done.
- Atsumu and Osamu have never made a flight on time. The best they can hope for is sprinting across the airport at full-tilt. This is a common occurance.
- Oikawa makes friends wherever he goes so he doesnt mind long layovers, he'll just sit and chat with whoever is around to pass the time, but one time he did leave with a group to check out a store without saying anything and Iwaizumi was lost for 30 minutes
- Asahi has so much anxiety with airports. Too many people. Too many deadlines. Bad vibes. One time a guy in an airport gave him incorrect directions to a gate and he missed his flight and he has never recovered.
- Kuroo "Yeah we have tons of time" Tetsurou is a menace to airport staff and has never budgeted enough time.
- Tsukki is a master at packing efficiently and this is exclusively due to wanting to avoid others complaining. He can pull basically anything out of his carry-on to prevent whining on a 5 hour flight. Yamaguchi uses him like a vending machine.
- Daichi once got mistaken for an airline worker and ended up with a whole group of people he was helping find their gates
- Bokuto loves traveling and flying. He finds it so fun and exciting. This is probably why Akaashi hates traveling and flying.
- Suga secretly likes layovers because he secretly hates planes and cannot stand sitting still for that long. He always pretends it such a hassle to have to wait but its the best part of the travel day when he gets to buy himself a muffin and bother Daichi for entertainment.
- Ushijima, Daichi, Kenma, and Asahi are all team "No PDA in an Airport!!!!!" whereas Tendou, Suga, Kuroo and Noya are all team "We have 2 hours to kill let me make out with you!!!!"
- Yamaguchi has sooooooo many reward points. Tsukishima doesnt even know what he's doing to get them, he's just a master of good deals and specials.
- Mile High Club Members: Iwaoi, Bokuaka, Ushiten, and Asanoya
- Wannabe Mile High Club Members who cannot convince their boyfriends it'll be okay: Suga
- Wannabe Mile High Club Members that will NOT admit they think about it: Yamaguchi, Hinata, Kageyama, Aran
... well im boarding soon so thanks for reading ig
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dolcettamagica · 6 months
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚
gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au
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tags: daddy kink, dirty talk, blowjob, sukuna speaks italian, petnames in italien translations: piccola - little one/baby principessa – princess che brava – (what a) good girl sei carina, lo sai? – you're cute, you know? ti piace, piccola? – you like it, little one? notes: minors dni wc: 3.6k
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Life was tough. At least your life was.
Living alone in this day and age was expensive and to pay your student loans was almost impossible. Yes, you could go the easy route and just sell your body or some pictures but that really wasn’t your style. You weren’t going to turn your body into a product. So, when a man called Toji came up to you, asking how much you were worth for the night, you rejected him and asked if you could do something else that would earn you just as much money. The handsome man simply smirked before your criminal life started. Ever since then your job was to “exchange fake money with real money”. Money laundering.
And you did just that. Asking your friends to lend you money and giving them back fake money, returning products you bought with the fake money, asking people if they could change one bill for another. It worked. The last few months worked without any problems at all. This month however was an absolute nightmare. Not only did Toji give you way more money than usual, you were in the middle of exam season. You were running behind and Toji warned you that his boss, Sukuna, was not pleased with your current status. Well, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.
As the heavy front door creaked open, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, burdened with the weight of deadlines, exams and Toji’s constant warnings. Your footsteps echoed in the dimly lit hallway, each one a testament to the fatigue that settled deep within your bones. With heavy shoulders and a weary sigh, you dragged yourself through the threshold of your home, longing for the solace of your own space. The weight of your backpack seemed to increase with every step, a physical manifestation of the mental strain you had endured throughout the day. As you entered your room, the soft glow of your desk lamp provided a faint comfort, but even its warmth couldn't dispel the overwhelming sense of stress that enveloped you. Toji kept sending you messages, telling you to hurry up and wash the money. Another sigh fell from your lips as you let your backpack and jacket fall to the ground. The moment you turned around you started to scream – a stranger was sitting on your bed.
Sukuna, the embodiment of wrath and power, sat on the edge of the bed, his presence casting a palpable aura of danger in the room. Clad in a white shirt and black pants that hugged his form with menacing elegance, his usually composed demeanor was shattered by a seething anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The fabric strained against his muscles as if unable to contain the sheer force of his rage. With a clenched jaw and eyes ablaze with fury, he exuded an aura of dominance that commanded attention. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the tempest within him. Every breath he took seemed to echo with the promise of destruction, a silent warning to those who dared to cross him. Despite the veneer of sophistication his attire provided, there was no mistaking the primal wrath that pulsed through his veins, ready to unleash chaos upon any who dared provoke him.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Ain’t no way you’re talking to your leader like this, stupida.”
Realization hit instantly. This was what Toji was warning you from the whole time. It was Sukuna – the gang leader. You heard a lot of terrifying things about him. The name of Sukuna Ryomen struck terror into the hearts of all who dared to utter it. A gang leader with a penchant for unspeakable cruelty, his reign of terror was marked by a litany of horrifying deeds that stained the streets with blood and despair. From the depths of his depravity, tales whispered of Sukuna's penchant for gruesome displays of power — from the grisly dismemberment of rivals left as warnings, their mutilated remains strewn across the city like macabre ornaments, to the innocent lives snuffed out in acts of ruthless vengeance. His depraved appetite for control knew no bounds, his twisted machinations orchestrating a symphony of fear that echoed through the alleys and corridors of the urban labyrinth he ruled with an iron fist. Behind the facade of opulence and influence, Sukuna's true legacy lay in the shattered lives and haunted souls that bore witness to his reign of terror, forever scarred by the horrifying specter of his atrocities.
It was the first time that you actually saw him and it was the first time that you instantly got on your knees for a man. You knew you had to show your utmost respect to this man. “I am so sorry. I–I didn’t know. Please forgive me, Sukuna.”
A grin graced his face as he saw you submit to him so quickly. He loved that fear struck anyone who laid eyes upon him. On top of that: You were a beauty. However he could not just look over your lack of achievements. At first he was impressed by your work. You managed to wash all the money and not have a single cop suspicious of you, you were smart and didn’t tell a living soul about your connection to Sukuna’s gang. So, he decided to give you some more money, he was sure that you were able to handle it. You weren’t and you took none of Toji’s – his right hand – warnings seriously.
“You look good begging on your knees, piccola. You would have made way more money on the streets, you know?”, he snickered, Toji told him about your decision to never sell yourself. Sukuna respected that as long as you still somehow benefited him. “Toji warned you, didn’t he? You’re behind. Why are you fucking up my business, y/n?”
The flicker of a lighter cast an eerie glow upon his features, accentuating the cold calculation that lurked behind his piercing gaze. With practiced nonchalance, he retrieved a cigarette from its pack, his fingers deftly manipulating the slender cylinder with an air of arrogance. Ignoring the palpable tension that hung in the air like a shroud, he brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette, a small ember igniting amidst the darkness. The sharp inhale of smoke filled the room, intertwining with your fear, a sinister dance that mirrored the power dynamics at play. In that moment, as the tendrils of smoke curled around him like malevolent serpents, Sukuna asserted his dominance with a single, calculated gesture, cementing his control over both the room and its trembling inhabitant.
“I–It’s just exam season…and I was given more than usual…I am really, from the bottom of my heart, sorry for everything.” You were frozen in the oppressive atmosphere of Sukuna's presence, your heart hammering in your chest like a caged bird desperate for escape. As he lit up a cigarette with an effortless display of power, you couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down your spine, your nerves alight with a cocktail of fear and anticipation. Your breath caught in your throat, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull of his dominating presence. Despite the terror that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there was an undeniable undercurrent of arousal that stirred within you, a primal response to the sheer force of his authority. The way he commanded the room with effortless control sent a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire of desire that burned beneath the surface of fear. In the face of his overwhelming dominance, you found yourself teetering on the edge of submission, your body betraying you with each racing heartbeat as you struggled to navigate the complex interplay of fear and desire that pulsed between you two.
Sukuna's gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced through your facade of fear with unnerving precision. In the flickering light of the room, his eyes seemed to strip away your defenses, laying bare the tangled web of emotions that churned within you. He could sense the trembling of your limbs, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying the fear that gripped you. But beneath that fear, there simmered something else — a raw, primal desire that pulsed with a rhythm all its own. With a predatory grin, Sukuna leaned in closer to your kneeling form, his voice a low, husky murmur that seemed to caress the very air around. "I can see right through you, piccola," he murmured, his words laden with a dangerous allure that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. "You can't hide that hunger from me." And in that moment, as the tension crackled between you like electricity, you realized that you were completely at his mercy, your desires laid bare for him to see.
As Sukuna's penetrating gaze lingered on you, you felt a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Caught in the crosshairs of his scrutiny, you wished you could disappear into the shadows, away from the intensity of his knowing stare. The revelation of your hidden desire left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way you had never experienced before. Each beat of your heart seemed to echo the rhythm of your mortification, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to meet his eyes, you lowered your gaze to the ground, willing yourself to shrink away from the searing intensity of his presence. In that moment, you felt small and insignificant, your embarrassment a stark reminder of your own vulnerability in the face of his commanding dominance “Excuse me…?”
Sukuna leaned back again, a smug grin on his face “Come closer, principessa, kneel right in front of me.”
Every word was your command. Slowly you got closer. Sukuna lounged on the edge of the bed with an air of undeniable authority, his legs spread wide in a display of dominance that seemed to fill the room. Clad in sleek black pants, he exuded an aura of raw masculinity that was impossible to ignore. Before him, you knelt with a mixture of trepidation and submission, your eyes downcast as you awaited his next command. The tension between you crackled in the air like electricity, the space between you charged with unspoken desires and untamed passions. The balance of power shifted palpably, with Sukuna reigning supreme over his willing captive, your fates intertwined in the complex dance of dominance and submission.
With a gesture both possessive and tender, Sukuna's hand descended upon your head, his touch gentle yet commanding as he stroked your hair like a prized possession. His fingers traced the curve of your skull with an almost possessive reverence, eliciting a shiver of submission that coursed through your veins. In the silent exchange between you each caress was a silent affirmation of his dominance. With a soft, whispered command, he guided your head to rest upon his thigh, the weight of your submission a tangible presence that settled between. In this intimate tableau, you surrendered yourself completely to his will, your breath mingling with the fabric of his pants as you lay vulnerable and exposed before him, a willing captive to his every whim.
“Sei carina, lo sai? Look up at me with those big innocent eyes. Wanna seduce me, piccola?” As Sukuna's hand firmly grasped your head, a jolt of arousal surged through you, your pulse quickening with an intensity that matched the grip of his fingers. The sensation of his touch, commanding yet possessive, sent a thrill through, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing moment. Caught in the vice-like grip of his hand, you felt a surge of excitement welling up within you, your breath hitching in your throat as you succumbed to the intoxicating power of his dominance. The boundaries between fear and desire blurred into nothingness, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence with a hunger that you could scarcely contain.
“D–Did you just call me cute?”
“Is that all you have to say about it?”, With a deft motion, Sukuna's thumb traced the line of your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender as he caressed your skin with a commanding intimacy. As his thumb lingered at the corner of your lips, a surge of anticipation rippled through you, your breath catching in your throat at the tantalizing prospect of what was to come. With a boldness born of desire, you parted your lips ever so slightly, inviting him to delve deeper into the depths of your surrender. Without hesitation, Sukuna's thumb slipped past your lips, his touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced upon your tongue. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and desire that left you dizzy with need. You surrendered yourself completely to his touch, you felt a primal connection forming between you, binding you together in a web of desire that defied all logic and reason. And as you savored the taste of him upon your lips, you knew that you belonged to him utterly and completely, your surrender a testament to the irresistible pull of his dominance.
With an air of unwavering confidence, Sukuna basked in your submission, relishing in the power he wielded over you. His gaze, smoldering with desire and dominance, held you captive, each glance a silent command that you willingly obeyed. As he felt you yield to his touch, a predatory smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his satisfaction evident in the way he savored your surrender. With a voice that dripped with authority, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he posed the question that hung between you like a tantalizing promise. “Che brava. Wanna make me feel good, piccola? Wanna taste something else?” he murmured, his words laced with a potent blend of desire and challenge.
With a silent nod, you affirmed your desire to delve deeper into the intoxicating dance of submission and dominance that bound you to Sukuna. Your breath hitched in anticipation as you watched him lean back with a self-assured grace, his movements deliberate as he reached for the buckle of his pants. The sound of leather against metal echoed in the hushed room, each click and slide a symphony of anticipation. With each movement, the air seemed to crackle with an electrifying tension, the promise of what was to come hanging heavy between you like a veil of desire. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, a thrill of excitement surged through you. As you watched him bare himself before you, you knew that there was no turning back — you were his, body and soul, bound to him in a fiery embrace of passion and submission.
He was big. Bigger than you were used to. It was veiny, long, thick and circumcised. “Ti piace, piccola?” Him speaking Italian turned you on even more. It suited him – his aura, his appearance, his dominance.
With a mixture of trepidation and eagerness, you lowered yourself before Sukuna, your heart pounding in your chest with a heady mixture of anticipation and desire. As you met his gaze, you found yourself ensnared by the raw intensity of his eyes, their smoldering depths fueling the flames of your arousal. With trembling hands, you traced the contours of his thighs, your touch a silent prayer for permission as you inched closer to your purpose. And when you felt the heat of him against your lips, a thrill surged through you, your mouth watering with a hunger that mirrored the primal need that pulsed within your veins.
“Brava piccola.” With a commanding yet tender touch, Sukuna threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements with a firm guidance that left you breathless with desire. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, you savored the taste of him upon your tongue. With each eager suck and swirl of your tongue, you sought to please him, your own pleasure intertwined with the intoxicating thrill of his approval. 
As the heat of passion consumed you, Sukuna's dominance surged to the forefront, his grip on your hair tightening with a commanding force as he pushed your head down onto him with an urgency that bordered on ferocity. He started fucking your face, with each rough thrust, he plunged deeper into the depths of your mouth, his movements guided by an insatiable hunger. The air was thick with the heady scent of your shared arousal, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with the wet, slick sounds of his cock going deep into your throat. In the depths of your submission your senses were overwhelmed by the dizzying whirlwind of pleasure and pain.
“Hmm…fuck, you feel perfect, piccola. Was made to suck my cock. Look at you, taking it in so good.”
With each forceful thrust, Sukuna primal desire surged forth, his movements a testament to the raw intensity of his need. As he plunged deeper into your mouth, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your senses drowning in the overwhelming tide of sensation. The taste of him upon your tongue was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and passion that left you trembling with desire. Suddenly he pulled you off his cock, leaving you out of breath, your cheeks soaked with your tears.
You lowered your head, licking and sucking his balls as you started to jerk him off simultaneously. As you lavished attention upon him, your mouth and hands working in tandem to pleasure him, he unleashed a torrent of dirty whispers that sent shivers cascading down your spine.
“My good little girl.”
“You’ll make daddy cum, piccola.”
“Fuck, makes me want to make you mine, principessa.”
His voice, low and husky with desire, filled the air with a symphony of erotic promises, each word a tantalizing invitation to delve deeper into the depths of the shared ecstasy. Your own desire surged to dizzying heights, your arousal palpable in the slick heat that pooled between your thighs.
As the crescendo of pleasure reached its peak, Sukuna's primal instincts surged forth, his release imminent and inevitable. With a guttural groan of satisfaction, he surrendered himself to the relentless tide of ecstasy, his body tensing with the force of his climax. In a torrent of raw passion, he came, his hot seed spilling forth, coating your face with its warmth. You gasped in surprise and ecstasy as you felt him release, your skin bathed in the sticky warmth of his essence. And as you looked up at him with eyes glazed with desire, you knew that in that moment, you had become a vessel for his pleasure, your own desires subservient to the intoxicating power of his dominance.
As Sukuna beheld the aftermath of his release, a smug grin spread across his lips, his satisfaction evident in the arrogant tilt of his chin. With a sense of ownership that bordered on arrogance, he surveyed you before him, your face adorned with the evidence of his dominance. His gaze lingered on the trails of his cum that glistened upon your skin, a testament to the primal power he wielded over you. With a low chuckle that reverberated through the room, he voiced his approval, relishing in the sight of his essence decorating your face like a badge of honor.
“Suits you, piccola. You look pretty with my cum all over your slutty face. Should take a picture as blackmail material.” For Sukuna, there was no greater pleasure than seeing his cum adorning your face, a physical manifestation of his power and control over you. He gazed upon you with a possessive gleam in his eyes, he knew that he had claimed you completely, body and soul, in a fiery embrace of dominance and submission.
With a swift and fluid motion, Sukuna straightened himself, the clink of his belt buckle punctuating the air as he secured it with a confident flick of his wrist. His movements were calculated and precise, every gesture a testament to the unwavering confidence that defined his persona. As he stood before you, your gaze lingered on him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his commanding presence. With a final glance, he bestowed upon you a smug smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the power he held over you.
“Would love to fuck your sweet lil’ pussy right now but I still have some business to attend to, piccola. By the way, you have two more weeks for that money. Next time around it won’t end this way.”
Without another word, Sukuna turned on his heel and made his way toward the door, his steps echoing in the quiet room with a sense of finality. His departure left a palpable void in his wake, a reminder of the fleeting nature of their passionate encounter. And as he disappeared into the shadows, you left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the remnants of the pleasure you gave him. You knew that you would forever be under his spell, your desires forever entwined with his in a web of lust and submission. Though you did wish that he would have did something to you.
Just when you decided to play with yourself you heard your phone ring – a message from an unknown number.
Ciao piccola, wait for daddy. I’ll be back in two hours. I want your pussy to be soaking wet.
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