#nagumo fanfic

[angstigone]

(A/N): hello there lovelies,

this is mostly a gift to @akifordessert for tolerating my silly thots.

WARNINGS: mostly crack, fake-dating, fake-infidelity, mention of murder and fore, sexual tension, ooc! nagumo, ooc! hyo, she-her pronouns/afab character.

«my dear, I do hope that you won't think me nosy» said mrs. moriyama, the gossiper of the neighborhood, while sitting down on the sofa in your living room.

she had come inside with the offer of baked goods, although you knew it'd have meant a good hour of your time lending ear to her weird neighborly conspirations.

«mrs. moriyama, you could never be nosy» although your feelings veered onto the opposite.

still, the downside of being in an undercover mission was that you didn't act onto your own wills and wants, but instead you did everything for the good for the mission.

comprehended being nice to ladies you couldn't stand.

«well, it could be... it could be a sensitive topic».

you wondered whether it'd be that she had noticed mrs. kaori a few houses down sneak sugar in her muffins for the bake sales or if she had finally caught onto the fact that the tall and lanky man she always described waving at her was a tree.

«either way, it'll do us little good if I don't get it out, immediately».

and gently holding out her hands for your own as if she was a concerned sister, she sought out your gaze and ushered.

«are you cheating on your husband with your neighbor?».

the words didn't properly hit you till after a few - incriminating - minutes in which the old lady just went through her own conclusion as she shook her head both judging and soft as if she was definitely aware that you were a cheater but for your own reasons.

«oh, well, I can only understand you, my darling» except her tone didn't imply pity at all «... with a man that works such long hours and a bride so young... although back in my days, if I had been caught by my husband doing such a thing...».

«I am not... cheating on my... husband» although your acting skills were better, you couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by the accusation «... especially not with our... with my neighbor!».

the old lady didn't believe her a single bit as she promptly accused further.

«but... I... I saw him... he's pretty touchy, isn't he?» she brought forward «... and he does visit you often, doesn't he?».

«simply as he's concerned about hyo spending so much time away and leaving me alone».

the justification came out of your mouth convincingly enough and you accompanied it promptly with a good amount of judgement of your own.

mrs. moriyama had at least the decency to fluster lightly.

«... as for being touchy, yoichi is especially touchy with anybody. I don't think I am any special».

now, the woman looked less convinced and more embarassed: better striked the iron while it was hot.

«if you see malice in our interactions, mrs. moriyama» you got up from the sofa swiftly as if bitten, feigning a genuine hurt «... it must be in your eyes».

hook and sunk.

the old lady blabbered unconvincingly as if she couldn't believe that she was wrong for once, and to give her even less of a chance, she grabbed the muffins from the ground and went to pick them in the kitchen as if feigning to be busy.

to leave the woman no other option.

«... I apprecciate your words, but I think that it'd be best if you went back home, mrs. moriyama» keeping a civil relationship with your neighbor had been a request of the mission, but you doubted that such a ground was salvageable, and it was better to have the old lady feel too ashamed to ask any further inquiries. especially when it was right.

«oh my dear, it wasn't my intention to offend you».

«and you didn't, mrs. moriyama» except your tone lingered on the exact opposite «... but I think that both hyo and yoichi would find offense into such a thing».

«oh, I shall apologize and...» but by now you had managed to drag the lady to the entrance and with a promise to contact her once you felt 'easier' you promptly chose to slam the door in her face. for good measure.

you had crumpled against it with a breath of relief when a familiar laugh came from the stairs of the household.

«... ugh, we have such lively neighbors».

«don't even start, nagumo» you felt an headache brewing into your mind.

«oh, I thought I was yoichi just a few moments before» the complacent asshole appeared as he sat himself halfway through the stairs with a meaningful 'oomph'.

of course, he had been spying onto the conversation while mooping around the house.

«... weren't we friendly enough to be thought as lovers?».

«don't let it get into your head» you pointed out, promptly moving into a defensive stance. technically nagumo yoichi was your ally. technically speaking as every conversation with him felt like a sparring session «... it was a lady with catharacts that said it».

«well, even with her terrible eyesight she could tell that you and I were perfect for one another».

«she said no such thing» you should have known better than to let the trained hitman get underneath your skin; it had been all he had wanted since you had joined the order. unlike him and his squadmates, you lacked the distinct ability for killing but were an expert spy who prided yourself onto a perfect control. you were just right for recon and undercover missions.

as long as you weren't paired with the main annoyance, nagumo yoichi.

«hhm, she implied it».

«I don't think so».

«I do».

he had gotten up from where he stood and now he had come to where you had moved to collect the traces of the small afternoon tea. his closeness always created a series of mixed feelings into you and you couldn't deny that in part what mrs. moriyama had said had been true: nagumo was excessively friendly and touchy with you, a thing that terrorized and thrilled you.

there was a slice of danger in every way that nagumo moved; it wasn't just the fact that this man could have easily killed you with a child's toy, but he held himself in a way that was too friendly and yet, not close enough.

he treated you like his newest toy, on top of that, and you didn't enjoy the thought of the lack of control that came with this.

it had startled you when you had seen him while on the mission when he had introduced himself - in disguise - as your newest neighbor, before coming into your house when hyo had left for 'work' and ask you why you hadn't been partnered.

"I am better than that oaf at disguising".

you didn't think that in the years in which you had worked together under the order, you had ever noticed him that evidently pissed, as he had cornered you into your own house. it had you feeling like a prey and the whole emotion was burning in both embarassment and something else that you refused to discocern.

"that clown" hyo had said after nagumo's appearance while he feigned to read his newspaper as a proper husband "... always putting his nose where it didn't belong".

but this time it felt personal. to you.

«... hhm, still» he had come close enough that one of his hands was quick to gently caress your cheek, tenderly enough and yet to you it felt like a slap.

when had he come so close to you... without you noticing it?

for god's sake, you were meant to be a renown spy! and here you were acting like a skittish housewife.

the end of this mission couldn't come any faster.

«you aren't helping with the rumors» you shot back with an annoyed glare. or at least you fixed one on your face «... I told you not to get involved. there must be a reason if hyo was chosen in your pla...».

his hand was quick to push itself onto your mouth. it could have wrapped around your throat.

you might not be at his level in a fight, but you knew how to hold your own, had he actually fought against you. instead, he acted like a petulant child.

«don't remind me» he hissed as if he was seething with such a thing «I wanted to be your husband».

"dear heart, hold still".

you knew that nagumo was as trained as you in reading micro-expressions. anything could have given you out.

«and yet, it was me who was assigned».

never had you been gladder for hyo's intervention as the man closed - loudly - the door behind himself, and you used the startlement to duck your head and distance yourself from nagumo.

how close had you been to...

«... also why did mrs. moriyama stop me on the way to get in to apologize?» he raised an eyebrow as you came to his side, graciously grabbing his jacket to keep up the feigned appearance fo a domestic bliss .

nagumo's gaze might as well be a bullet aimed at your head.

no wait... it was a few centimeters higher... it was aimed at hyo.

«did the old bitch finally crook?».

«you won't like this» you spoke, instead, ignoring his crassness «... she just came here to accuse me of cheating on you. with nagumo».

hyo's eyes fell onto you and then back onto nagumo.

«I wonder where she got that idea».

«so, you also agree that I'd make the best husband, don't you?» nagumo had to obviously brush it in.

«... I have seen the state of your laundry» now that was smething that you were definitely curious about, especially in which occasion such a meet up had happened between hyo and nagumo's laundry «she's better off with me».

«boring» nagumo simply pouted, as you instead brought the matter at hand back.

«what do we do about mrs. moriyama?».

«I thought murdering her was off the table» you brushed off hyo's attempt at humor «not sure. what did you tell her?».

«that she was seeing things» but you doubted that'd be enough although the woman had been genuinely embarassed in the moment «still, I know she'll prod».

«what if we simply... let it happen».

both you and hyo turned to nagumo with honest confusion, as he simply smirked while slumping onto your sofa.

«you could become a widow and I could...».

«would that involve my death?» hyo said bewildered.

«this is a fucking undercover mission, not the fucking sims» you shot back «no need for fucking plot twists or shit... I... we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if you had stayed in your lane».

«this whole situation wouldn't have happened at all, if I had been allowed to be your husband, instead of that brute!»

«I think I want a divorce» hyo promptly muttered as he moved to the kitchen and from the sound of it, you heard the liquor cabinet being opened.

not that you could blame him.

on his own, nagumo had this shit-eating grin on his face, much to your aggravation and annoyance.

«if he gets a divorce, do I get you, by the way, sweetheart?».

you better figure out a way to poison your supposed lover.

you definitely wondered whether mrs. moriyama had any pointers in that department.

[moominsuki]

12 DAYS and 20 HOURS WITHOUT YOU w/c: 5.1k - ; NAGUMO YOICHI x F!READER

✎ᝰ he’s a nuisance & you should be glad to be rid of him… so why does your heart ache for him so much? OR the part two in which you finally address your feelings for your hanger on ex.

࿄ ! warnings — porn WITH plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap up ppl), cunnilingus, fingering, female reader, nagumo is sexy and you will fall in love so pls keep that in mind.

/ note. i should be revising for my exams but instead i wrote this for a man who is severely underrated. it’s gonna be a nagumo fall. enjoy this anywho :P (ps. can be read as a standalone fic)!!

13 days. that’s how long it had been since you had seen nagumo. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t eating you up inside.

after your small spat (if you could even call it that) you wrongfully assumed he’d be somewhere in your bedroom the next day when you hadn’t seen him on your couch. you were just about ready to scold him for having his feet all over your satin pillowcases.

only when you trudged upstairs, your bedroom was exactly how you left it. the door ajar, a small breeze from the window. pillows not askew. your sleepy kitten lounging on the covers.

at first, you considered yourself relieved. “good riddance,” you grumbled to yourself, falling atop the blankets and sighing, hands brushing at your pet. the chirp of the cicadas eats at your eardrums. has your home always been this quiet?

“whatever. knowing that idiot, he’ll be back in a day or two… now what to do…”

unfortunately for you, nagumo’s unprecedented drop ins had become part of your daily routine. you don’t become aware of the fact until it’s been exactly 4 days and he still hasn’t shown his face. it had already struck you as odd on the second day, let alone the fourth.

“why do you even care?” you ask yourself, standing under the hum of a sweltering shower. why do you care that your ex hasn’t come around to lounge in your home and bother you? in fact, isn’t this a good thing? the first few times it happened, you were irritated beyond belief - telling the man to get lost, locking your windows and doors only for nagumo to show up despite your barrage of insults, whether that’d be in your kitchen or on your couch or even in the shower (the image of seeing a naked nagumo after all this time was truly something, though you’d never admit it to his face, instead opting to throw a hard bar of soap at him and to which you then had to tend to his aching back after he so called “wept in pain.”) so why did he now decide to just ghost you?

“typical,” is all you can think, drying your hair off, eyes lingering on the razor he left on top of the toilet.

day five comes around. a good day at work with a cute man asking you out renders nagumo forgettable. you’re glad your brain decides it’s high time to forget about him. day six, seven, eight, nine. it’s extremely bearable. you start to see him in your dreams on the seventh day - exactly a week since he just up and left. “that’s normal,” you muse. you dream about people that aren’t in your life all the time. he’s no different.

the night of day ten falls. you’re incredibly exhausted, and you’re regretting making plans on saturday with that somewhat attractive man who works across the street. “it’s no biggie. it’s just one day till the weekend and i can cancel.”

you’re nodding off into your dinner. the warm smell of char siu and noodles doesn’t do much to keep you awake.

then you see him. dark brown eyes and a goofy smile to match. it makes you jump so hard you spill half the content of your meal down your shirt. nobody’s there. your cat sits at the leg of your chair, licking the sodden mess off of the ground.

the gravity of the situation dawns on you. you really really miss nagumo.

ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ

day eleven comes and goes and the twelfth drags, as do most fridays. that guy who asked you out the other day offers to drop you home when you’re standing outside. it’s warm out and you think a walk would be good for your head. you don’t decline his offer.

the man asks about you and confirms the details of your excursion, and you politely affirm, answering all his questions and asking them back just the same. “he’s not much of a talker,” you think. you’re not used to that.

by the time you’re home, you just want to pass out. you look around your kitchen, living room - heck, even the bathroom for safe measure, just in case you-know-who decided to drop by. the sound of metal clattering has you running to your bedroom, ventricles pumped. not that you cared… you’d act super cool and nonchalant if when nagumo drops by again. it’s all in vain, anyway. it was just your cat jumping onto your vanity. you shoo her away. your heart falls like a crescendo from loony tunes.

who exactly were you kidding? you had long dropped the facade that your heart wasn’t yearning for the idiot, and you wonder how he’s doing when you settle into bed. it would be unlike him to die in an unforeseeable accident, and he would never succumb to a death on the job. another looming realisation dawns on you.

he’s ignoring you.

you groan into your pillow. it’s not like you could really call him (you totally could, and it’s not because you noted down the digits of two of his burner phones, definitely not) without outing yourself. don’t forget the phone works two ways. forget it. you have a date tomorrow.

saturday comes. you get up relatively early. (un)fortunately for you, it’s a miserable day out, contrasting the beautiful weekdays that had passed.

your date texts you in teasing and sweet fashion and the pre-typed out message that consists of grovelling, apologies and more grovelling sits at your fingertips. fuck it. you can’t stay wound up over a man who probably didn’t want you in the first place.

you get ready very early, and you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, all done up in a silk to do and the accessories to match. it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper date. a few flings here and there, sure, but this seemed real. like a sure thing. similar to when…

!creaakkk!

your cat meowing and dropping things around in your bedroom has you standing up right, casting aside your lipgloss and running to shoo her away.

“honestly, ponyo, you’re such a drama queen-”

the words die on your tongue at the sight before you. nagumo sits at the edge of your bed, kitten fidgeting in his arms. he looks you up and down, and then he sends you an earth shattering smile, eyes crinkled.

“hey stranger. long time no see!”

your mouth opens and closes as he gets up, and ponyo leaps up and away when he places her on the ground.

“do you think she missed me? i think so. with the stuff you feed her, it’s inevitable-”

“are you serious?!” is all you can say, exasperated, gasping. nagumo’s eyes widen, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“don’t tell me you’re still mad at me? don’t make me get down on my knees and beg because-” the man gets cut off again as you all but throw your arms around his frame, face in his shirt, a little shaky. if nagumo feels the wobble of your body, he doesn’t mention it and a hand comes to rest at the small of your back.

“so can i assume that you’re not mad at me anymore?” you shake your head, and nagumo chuckles, nose pressed into your hair.

“i wasn’t mad at you,” you say, muffled into his shirt.

“oh? tell me more,” and you move your face slightly so your cheek is smushed against his shirt, eyes pointed away from him. though, you can already feel the expectant smile on the corner of his lips and you want to slap him. kiss him? both.

“i was mad at myself. and i was going to apologise for what i said but you basically ghosted me… for almost three weeks.”

it’s quiet for a moment until the man laughs, guffaws even and it emanates through his chest. you huff and step away from him, back turned away.

“ok, it’s not that funny. you can stop laughing now!”

“sorry, sorry. i’m done, i promise.” nagumo walks from behind you to step into your line of sight. “and technically, it’s only been… i wanna say 12 days and 20 hours.”

you deadpan. then you roll your eyes. “you were counting?! you’re unbelievable!” and he just pouts at you. eyes wide and shiny. you don’t admit to him that you’ve also been doing the same. that day’ll come.

“i mean, i would’ve come around sooner buttt! contrary to popular belief, i’m not so socially inept to not give you space. although, i was starting to think you were replacing me with that loser at that law firm. i want to say his name is hajime-”

“okay, not even close-”

“and what kind of idiot takes their woman out to a sushi bar on the first date. and he drives a toyota camri. he’s lame.”

“…first of all, i’m not his woman. how did you know i was going on a date tonight? and how do you even know what car he drives?”

“…let’s not sweat the details. that dress is new, right? haven’t seen it before. looks beautiful on you-”

“so not only were you spying on me but you were ignoring me?!” you fist the man by the collar of his coat and you just loll your head onto his chest. “were you always this crazy when we dated?” you hum and he laughs again. like he knows you’re addicted to the sound and how it makes your tummy ignite into something worse than flames. his hands find their way into his pocket and he shrugs.

“probably. but you liked it.” you don’t bother to contend. nagumo grabs you by the wrists, and takes a good look at you. his deep eyes follow the sliver of gold against your collarbones, all the way down to the hemming of your dress. it makes you feel hot under your heart shaped neckline.

“like the dress. like it a lot. wouldn’t waste it on some shitty sushi and cheap sake, though.”

“well it’s not you taking me out tonight though, is it? it’s…” you think for a second. you can feel the laughter blooming in his chest and you try to fight your way out of his grasp, though it’s in vain. nagumo laughs so hard that the pout on your face starts to pop into a smile and it’s infectious enough that you laugh too.

when the laughter inevitably dies down, you and the dark haired man share a look that you encompasses all the thoughts and emotions that have been swimming in your head the past long few days. he’s still holding you by the wrists, your fingers crinkling against the loose material of his shirt.

nagumo says your name, more so to himself as his tattooed hands stay wrapped from the width of your jewellery clad wrists down to your forearms.

“you’re being awfully touchy to a woman who’s supposed to being out on a date in a few hours,” you say, just above a whisper.

he hums at that, pulling you in further by the elbows. “i guess you’re right. you could always tell me to go away, though. wouldn’t be the first time.”

you groan audibly and he shoots you another grin that climbs its way into the wrinkles of your brain. “what do i have to do for you to not bring that up? and don’t make me get on my knees and beg-”

“damn, that was my first choice too!” you roll your eyes. he’s still holding you. your palms are flat against his chest. “i suppose i could call it even if…” nagumo pretends to ponder for a moment. you try to shove him with as much power as you can on the man.

“if you don’t just come out with it-”

“kiss me.”

the speed at which your eyebrows almost shoot into your hairline is unprecedented. you try to read his face for any sign of playful unfairness, but you’ve known him long enough to read the softness of his eyes.

your hands fist at his shirt again and it’s your turn to laugh at him, head thrown back. he pouts in response.

“you’re unbelievable,” and before he can retort, you lean up on your tip toes to do as he asked. he’s exactly how you remember, all those years ago. warm, sweet, slightly intoxicating. the sigh you release is shaky and he swallows it whole. the width of his palms immediately let go of your arms and find purchase on your waist and your hands travel all the same, resting on the planes of his face and neck.

the kiss is over before it started and you don’t even get a chance to breathe before nagumo is back on you, pulling you in by the hips, tongue slipping in comfortably like you’ve always been this way. and you give in, your body adapting to years old muscle memory. it’s like you’re almost a decade younger all over again, and your brain turns to mush when nagumo gropes you, grabbing all the parts he can to get impossibly closer to you.

you almost don’t notice the way he throws off his coat. and the fact that he’s trying to get you onto the bed. almost.

you protest in a breathy whine, breaking apart from locking lips. “we-i can’t. my date-”

“sucks. he sucks. i’ll take you wherever you want. buy you everything you want. just let me have you.”

you’re too out of it to even give a snarky answer, grabbing nagumo by the neck and pressing your lips to his own once more. he grunts, lightly pushing you both down onto the pillows.

he breaks apart from the kiss to lave more around your jaw, with one heavy hand resting on your cheek while he bruises on your neck, clavicle and the top of your breasts, all heavy and imposing. you writhe in his touch, and you can’t help the fact that your thighs start to rub against each other to soothe the heat arising in your core.

as perceptive as ever, nagumo quickly notices and makes fast work of placing his leg between your own, and you can’t help but breathe out a winded “yoichi.”

he groans, smirking against your collarbone. “missed hearing you say that.”

you huff, pushing his hands down the curves of your body. “don’t push your luck, nagumo.”

he chuckles, unfazed, and smooth, deft fingers climb under the hem of your satiny dress. he hikes your dress high enough to see a flash of damp cotton panties.

he presses a digit against your clothed clit and you can’t control the way your head falls against your pillows, mouth falling open as you whine out his name again.

nagumo halts all movement though, pushing himself backwards to lean further onto his knees off the bed. you practically jump up, confused and stupidly horny.

“strip for me.”

you narrow your eyes. he shoots you a saccharine smile, and you don’t bother to banter with him, getting on your haunches and pulling down a thin strap on either arm, and shimmying out of the garment. you can tell by the elated shock in nagumo’s eyes that he hadn’t expected you to comply but you throw the dress in his face, and he shakes it off faster than you can adjust yourself on top of the bed covers. he’s already crowding over you, face mere centimetres away.

“sorry, you can’t be the only one having your fun,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his nose and it’s his turn to not take your bait, but maybe it’s because he’s too enamoured at the sight of your naked body after all this time. a tattooed hand reaches up to grab a handful of your boob, pinching slightly at your nipple and the other makes it descent down to the hemming of your panties. his fingertips dip into the front, pushing the material to the side and he groans when he can see the way your pussy clenches over nothing.

“you’re so pretty,” he sighs, and you watch the way he touches you, featherlight and it has you writhing, inching closer to feel more of his touch.

“patience, baby.” nagumo throws off his shirt, and you take in the expanse of his never ending tattoos. your hand reaches up to touch the one on his stomach and he smirks, albeit warm and slightly teasing.

“got a few new ones a couple months back,” he all but whispers and you hum.

“i like them,” you state, matter of factly and he pushes your hand away to lay on his stomach between your legs.

nagumo’s face presses into your belly, and you push a few fingers into the dense strands of his hair. he kisses you at the belly button, paving a wet path down to your moist underwear.

he noisily smooches on your panty clad clit and you wordlessly protest in embarrassment, groaning and whining while he smiles against you. though, you’re quick to stop complaining when he pushes your panties to the side and breathes you in, kissing your uncovered pubis. now you’re frantically trying to push him away instead.

“you’re so shameless,” you fuss and nagumo doesn’t say anything. he only pushes your legs further apart to accommodate him.

“can i eat you out?” he asks and you raise a brow, face flushing. he shrugs, “i wanna hear you say it.”

you want to insult him for trying to fluster you in his own weird way but you’re also stupidly, ridiculously turned on right now that you can’t be bothered to play this cat and mouse game.

your hands cover your face and you mumble ever so quietly, verbatim: “please eat me out.”

“can’t hear you, sweetheart. come on, you can’t possibly be acting all shy. my face is literally in your-”

“just please eat me out!” you say, exasperated and incensed by the burning desire to have his mouth on you.

nagumo doesn’t mess with you any further but he can’t help the snicker that escapes him. you’re also ready to call him names and berate him, unfortunately being the hot head that you are, but it’s a useless act because nagumo already has your pants down your legs and strewn across the room somewhere, and he’s immediately pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your love button.

a strangled “yoichi!” escapes from your throat and you’re already helplessly weaving between the strands of his black hair. it only goads him on further, and your head struggles to keep itself up when he thumbs at the hood of your clit, lifting it up to suck at the bundle of nerves. you become one with the plush pillows beneath you once again.

nagumo’s tongue soothes and pokes around, sucking and kissing at all the sensitive parts of your flower. he lifts one leg up higher to allow him more access, and you lock your fingers on top of his hand that grips ardently at the tender skin of your thigh. you have no time to react when you feel two fingers press into your cunt hole, and you chant his name like a mantra, gasping and almost tearful from the way he feels.

you can feel his dark brown eyes on you, and he stops tasting you to bite your inner thigh. you yelp, and he lulls over where he indented you with his teeth.

“you’re close, right? want you to look at me when you cum,” is all he says, and you don’t get to reply when he’s back sucking your pearl into his mouth, pressing his fingers against a certain spot inside you that has your legs trying to close in on themselves around his head.

“f-fuck, ‘ichi, i’m gonna cum,” you moan, and per his request, your eyes stay on his own, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, the applied pressure stopping you from falling back and losing it.

“say my name like that again,” he groans, and you don’t fail to notice the way he grinds against the bed ever so slightly. “come on, baby, you’re almost there-”

“hnngh, fuck, right there ‘ichi, ‘m cumming-,” you gasp and a flash of white behind your eyes renders you temporarily paralytic, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in an ‘o’, and the grip on nagumo’s hair tightens. he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, and your heart would burst at the romantic gesture of him interlocking your fingers together at literally any other time, but he doesn’t stop his assault on the spongey spot inside you until you go limp and you practically have to pry the man off of you.

nagumo’s no sadist (to you, at certain times) so he stops, pulling back and watching the way your chest heaves and the way you glisten between your upper thighs. you don’t register that he’s next to you again until you feel nimble fingers touching on your lower belly. you open your eyes to look at him, and the full blown lust in his eyes makes you choke a little bit.

you grab his hand off your stomach to kiss his fingertips, and then you’re clambering on top of him, palms splayed against his decorated chest. you feel the thickness of his hard cock pressed against your wet core, and you grind against the strained material of his trousers. nagumo grunts, head falling back slightly as he immediately finds purchase on your ass.

“you’re hard,” you assert, and he laughs a little breathlessly and it breaks off into a moan when you press down on him a little harder.

“i guess i am,” he rustles, squeezing your lower curves to push you against his stiffness. “you should let me put it in.”

“oh? is that so?” you say, taunting the man as you slide up and down his neglected cock that’s begging to be released from its confines.

“yeah… wanna fuck you, baby.” nagumo’s all heavy eyelids and suave lips as he gazes up at you, hands all touching all over you. you’re heating up from his languid touches, and you’re cursing yourself for already being so raring to go after he ate you to his heart’s content.

“okay,” is all you say, and you shimmy backwards to undo the man’s bottoms, unbuttoning his pants and helping him kick them off till he’s left in tight gray boxer briefs. your eyes find the damp patch on the front of his shorts, and you softly finger the head of his cock through the cloth. nagumo grunts, sighing your name when you waste no time pulling down his underwear to reveal him in all his glory.

“didn’t that hurt?” you wonder out loud, more to yourself if anything, and nagumo realises you’re referring to the tattoo above his pelvis, only shy of the dark trail that nests above his erection. he places a hand over your wandering one and he chuckles.

“a little. nothing i can’t handle.” you make a noise of something, and you lean down to kiss him very gently and so very close to where he wants. nagumo groans, and he reaches down to pet your hair.

“another time,” you wink, biting your lip. nagumo smiles, raising a brow and he looks like he wants to ask you what you mean but you’re ahead of the curve and you’re settling back up on his lower body, your soaked heat brushing and sliding against his cock. he’s putty after that, head in the clouds as he feels the drench of your lips rub against the hardness of his cock.

“tell me you want it,” you say, and you stop looking down to where you’re almost conjoined to meet nagumo’s eyes; his face contorted to something readable only to you. “or, you know, you could just cum like this.”

nagumo moans at that, and he sets a heavy handed grab on your ass. “don’t remember you being such a tease, baby, sh-shit.”

you croon at his words. you don’t stop the ministrations of your grinding and the raven haired man beneath you barely puts out until the slick of your cunt hole catches the mushroom shaped tip of his cock.

“fuck, i want it, baby, want you to cream on me-” and you don’t let him finish his vulgarity because you grab him at the base of his cock and settle yourself right on top of him, inch by inch.

nagumo hisses, and his iron grip on your hips doesn’t subside until he’s all the way inside you. you both simultaneously moan in relief when he’s by the hilt, and you can practically feel him all the way in your throat.

“fucking missed this so much,” he keens, and you feel him raise his knees to accommodate to you better. you slowly get the rhythm going, grinding and gently bouncing on his dick and you’re delirious at the way his pubic hair brushes against your swollen clit, and how you can feel the slap of his weighted balls against your ass.

nagumo plants his feet on the bed, refusing to loosen his grip on you and you can’t even bring yourself to care about the bruises that’ll stay depressed into your skin. you move one of his number decorated hands to grab at your chest, which he complies with and the other stabilises you against him so that he can thrust into you at a steady pace.

“so, so good,” you whine, almost falling forward by the jolt of nagumo’s body. you plant both arms on either side of his head, tits bouncing in his face, going back and forth against his open mouth that tries to catch a pebbling nipple.

taunting words leave his mouth as he watches you try to keep up. “feel good, baby? shit. tell me how it feels, y-yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this, huh?”

you clench around him tighter. “hnnngh, so fuc-fucking good, ‘ichi.”

you lean down on your elbows, and while he bucks up into you, his eyes don’t stray, and when your lips follow the sharp lines of his jaw and press on his jugular, nagumo angles his head so you can sloppy kiss him on the mouth.

it’s like that for a few moments until he stops to throw you off of him, and you’re ready to whine and complain, but he’s already on you again, this time on top.

“gotta take my time with you,” he breathes, and he finds a new position, this time pulling your left leg over his shoulder and spreading the right one to fit around his hips.

“is that code for you were gonna cum too fast?” you giggle, and nagumo doesn’t grace your playful ribbing because he slips back into you and your once teasing laughter breaks off into a deep moan of pleasure.

“don’t make fun of me,” he says, feeding his cock into you at an achingly slow rate, “hurts my feelings.” and you want to call him embarrassing and silly, you really do, but your heart is on your tongue and nagumo overcrowds every part of your senses.

nagumo leans over you, and grinds himself inside your compact walls. his face is in the crook of your neck and he teethes at the tender skin. you throw a callous hand in hand to satiate the hunger in your belly.

the unrelenting pace in which he fucks you is downright insane: all you can think about is him, all you can smell and taste is him. when you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you, holding and stretching you open, spitting not-so-sweet nothings at you. you worship him all the same, crying out his name, begging him to take you harder and faster, nails raking across the width of his back.

“you’re s-so, hah, shit, you’re so gorgeous,” he moans, “not gonna last, f-fuck.”

you’re almost there, teetering on the finish line, so nagumo ever so slightly adjusts his position, and he presses his cock head against that point inside you. you’re weightless in his hold, writhing when he reaches down to rub taut circles against your puffy pearl. it’s enough to make you sob, gasp and cry out a throaty “‘ichi!”, back arching, toes curling.

nagumo takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, bruising against the creamy flesh of your tits. his speed and movement becomes sloppy, rushing to the edge, the echoes of skin slapping against each other. your tearful face and your short winded begging (“cum inside me, yoichi” and “want you to fill me up”) in the midst of your intra-climatic hue are enough to get him to empty out hot inside of you, his eyebrows furrowed and an o-shape taking over the soft shine of his mouth.

you pull yourself up by the hand on the back of his scruff to kiss him wetly, tongue and all and he takes it, moaning and cursing out your name while pushing his seed deep inside you.

it’s quiet except for mingling, heavy breaths and the creak of your bed when nagumo falls on top of you. you squeak in protest, trying to push the lug of a man off.

“get off me you big idiot!” you squeal, and you feel his body shaking while he’s closed in on you.

“you’re nice and warm,” he sighs, “think i could stay like this for a good, couple of hours.”

you scoff. your hand reaches up to pet at his damp hair. nagumo smiles against your clavicle.

“do you think i still have time to go on that date?” you say, all forlorn and nagumo’s head shoots up, in which you laugh at the way his face contorts. he grumbles, and he eases out of you slowly. you hiss, but the grin on your face stays all the same.

“you think you’re so funny,” nagumo dryly contends and you sit up, kissing him on the nose.

“what can i say? learnt from the best,” you reply, just to the point where only he can hear you.

you think he’s so ridiculously easy (you won’t ever tell him that) when he returns your grin, and grabs your face to kiss you, all over you cheeks and lips.

“damn right, baby, damn right.”

EXTRA, EXTRA - read all about it:

“by the way, what did you mean when you said i owed you one?”

nagumo pulls his head from your chest, tv blaring and illuminating his puzzled, adorable expression, a piece of popcorn dangling from his mouth. his face turns blank as he ponders. then it’s like a lightbulb switches on above his head.

“oh, i fed ponyo and let her out onto the balcony but that old man saw me and i convinced him that he was seeing things so he wouldn’t call the cops… you’re welcome!”

“you did WHAT?!”

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[nikonyash]

When Nagumo says he just want a kiss...

You know Nagumo is a freaking liar. Last time, he said, "Just the tip," but he coaxed 3 orgasms out of you. Another time, it was "Just a cuddle," but the next thing you knew, your face was pressed into the mattress while he chased his high. It’s not like you didn’t want it, but he's a fucking beast who can go for rounds, leaving you senseless and missing work deadlines.

So this time, you've been ignoring him for two days to finish your work. Not falling for his “Just a kiss” pleas.

Of course, the tall, cocky boyfriend of yours is not happy about it. He gets even more irritated seeing you ready for work in a cheery mood, all set to show the completed tasks to your boss.

"Gon' make it up to you tonight," you say as you wear your shoes, trying to calm his foul mood. He doesn't answer, only stares. Truth is, he's starving. His eyes have been following you like a prying predator, tracing every curve under your thin blouse. But he's pissed.

"Babe, you see," he murmurs as he leans against the wall, "Am gonna work as well and my schedule can be mean. Don't know when I'll be home again."

A sense of guilt strikes you, and you don’t know what to do but stare softly at him.

“I genuinely, really, truly, just want a kiss, love," he sighs. "I swear. I know you’ll be late if we go more than that.”

You bite your lip. "Well... if it’s reaaaaally just a kiss."

“And a hug?” he adds softly, show a little pout. You roll your eyes but can’t hide the faint smirk on your pretty lips. “Fine, yeah, sure.”

He pulls you into a hug. "Missed you," he mutters. His hand ruffles through your hair before his lips trail gentle kisses along your temple.

He pulls back and smiles, resting his forehead against yours. His hand slides down to your neck.

"Just. A. Kiss," you warn him, which he replies to with a soft chuckle.

He captures your lips gently, and his thumb brushes your jawline, lingering just enough to make you catch your breath.

And the moment you're caught between gasping and holding still, he leans into your neck.

His lips barely graze your neck at first; soft, teasing, like he's savoring every inch of your skin. Then he starts at your collarbone, tracing the curve with gentle, deliberate kisses, purposely letting the warmth of his breath linger just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

A soft little gasp escapes your lips. Your protest comes out as stammered words. Your hand unwittingly grips his arm, either to steady yourself or to push him away. But you don't do it either. Instead, you tilt your head and give him more access, completely without realizing it.

His grips tightened on your waist as he's alternating between soft kisses and little nips on your neck. When he reaches the spot below your ear, he pauses, pressing a kiss there, slow and deep. He darts his tongue, just a flick to see you shiver. You're on the edge, your resolve completely crumbled with your heart pounding faster; ready to give in.

Then, he stops.

He leans back, loosening his grip. His lips curl up in the cockiest damn grin. "Whoops! Time's up. Don't wanna be late, do we?"

You’re frozen. Still breathless, blinking like you’re trying to process what just happened. Before you can even recover, he presses one last quick kiss to your cheek and steps back, straightening his shirt like nothing just went down.

“Have a good one, love,” Nagumo says with a little wink before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

And by the time you regain your sanity, he's long gone.

“FUCKING ASSHOLE,” you half shout at the door, still flushed and frustrated.

Nagumo struts out like a damn king, grinning ear to ear.

Sweet, sweet revenge.

[faintrustle]

NAGUMO YOICHI in a black tank top with tattooed biceps showing can kill me any way he pleases.

[akimoroll]

fridays are supposed to be fun but you were having one of the worst days of your life—you missed the bus this morning, coffee spilled on your newly purchased white blouse, sent the wrong file to your boss, got scolded because of it and the list could go on.

you were relieved when you finally set foot at home. a whole weekend of resting and catching up to your favorite ongoing shows awaits you. however, the universe isn't finished with you yet. you were in the middle of preparing dinner when you realized that you had forgotten to pick up an important ingredient on your way home.

nagumo appeared out of nowhere, you’re used to it by now. he was about to open his mouth to annoy you but stopped after seeing you on the verge of tears with your lips quivering.

so cute, he thought.

“who hurt my baby?” he cooed, pouting as an attempt to hide his sly grin.

he chuckled when you pouted back. he took you by the hand as he sat himself down on the couch, making you sit on his lap sideways, “tell me all about it.”

he watched your face while you passionately yap to your heart's content. his fingers gently moved through your hair as it trailed down your back, occasionally squeezing your waist while the other rested on the side of your thigh.

he gently tucked your hair to the side as he planted soft kisses on your neck and across your shoulders, humming against your skin, musing, “is that so?”

“aw, that’s too bad.”

“uh-oh, tell me more.”

“you poor thing.”

as you became increasingly ticklish, you fumbled your words.

“are you even listening?” you snapped at him.

he paused and leaned back, smirking as if he had accepted a challenge. he began listing off everything you just said in the same order while making silly impressions of you, “did i miss anything?”

one thing about him is he listens and it’s hella attractive.

feeling a bit better, you wrapped your arms around him as you softly murmured against his lips, “i missed you.”

“i missed you too,” he whispered in between kisses.

he swiftly maneuvered you to lay on the couch, causing you to squeal. you reprimanded him, “yoichi, i’m making dinner.”

“what are you talking about? my dinner’s right here.” he retorted, causing the two of you to end up having delivered pizza for late dinner.

[wannabepoeticischiya]

You swore that he made it his vow to have a reminder of his existence for your every waking moment. That you wouldn’t spend a day without saying his name or cursing it to the wind.

ao3: for affection, for acceptance pairing: nagumo x f!reader genre: romance wc: 1.6k status: one shot

Everyone in the JAA knew you as the doll.

The living, breathing, epitome of a doll.

A cold-blooded killer.

The executioner without mercy.

A human born with no emotion.

Life hasn’t always been easy for you. To be born in a family of importance meant that you had to grow into somebody worthy enough to be important. To be recognized meant to have a hundred thousand impossible feats under your belt. To be accepted meant that you had to give up all that you were, change every angle, every vision, so you could fit into their ideals. To have been all of that at the same time meant that it left no room for anything else.

No room for sadness, nor happiness.

No room for affection, nor adoration.

No room for warmth, nor love.

No room for you.

So, who does this guy think he was? To shamelessly flaunt his undermining achievement in front of your face as though he held the world in the palm of his hand. Brazen that he was, given that he could easily boast about something you could do with your eyes closed with hands tied behind your back. That he could smile so freely like he did not just brutally murder ten people with nothing but a tiny Swiss knife.

He rose the ranks quickly, far too fast for your liking given that he was a transfer from those wimpy spy department kids. And each time he got closer to where you stand, his smile would glow brighter and brighter… until one day, it shone far more brilliantly than the sun itself.

And you hated that, more so than when your boss would rush you to get the job done a day earlier.

It didn’t deter him in his advances. Why would he relent when he knew you from when your family and his were neighbors? When he would pull at your hair and stare curiously at how your face would never contort to anything beyond that blank slate. Or from when he’d lick your ice cream to see if it tasted different from his despite it being the same flavor. When he’d barge into your room so early in the morning and demand to play with him.

He was a child. An annoyingly obnoxious entitled child.

Even now, as you transcend past a decade and a half into your lives, he remained that same child.

Unrelenting. Motivated in the best way, a pest in the worst.

You swore that he made it his vow to have a reminder of his existence for your every waking moment. That you wouldn’t spend a day without saying his name or cursing it to the wind.

He never left, serving as the sole reminder of all that you’ve forsaken to reach where you are now. Yoichi, the fiend. Yoichi, your neighbor. Yoichi, your first friend.

Many times did he push you to the edge. If he asked you where you were, you’d say you’re at the end of your limit. If he asked you where you live, you’d say in the state of annoyance. If he asked if you how you were, you’d say you’re better off knowing he’d hit the grave early.

Then one day, he asked… if you felt anything for him.

And for the first time in nearly twenty long years of getting on each other’s throats, you found no words to say.  

If he asked you about your feelings, what would you say? How would you look at him? Show him the puzzle of words that you yourself found difficulty piecing together.

Many times did he provoke you into doing something, whether it would be through aggravating you to assault, or by giving you these vague questions that leave you pondering them over for days without ever knowing the correct answer.

You wanted to believe you were smart, that your intellectual capabilities were above average—or better, above his. Yet here, in this space between annoyance and familiarity, a sickeningly fragrant flower had begun to bloom… and you didn’t know what to do.

Raised to assassinate, trained to kill. That’s what you were: a killer. There was nothing more.

Was that so wrong? To live life like a machine. It seemed like common sense to you. Because no one ever taught you otherwise. No one gave you a different way to live, showed you a new path to take. Breaking your heart for every life you took looked right. Killing your happiness for the sake of others seemed noble. Giving it all up for the greater good was for the best, wasn’t it?

There was nothing beyond you except for the eyes of a murderer. There was nothing more. So why does he look at you like that? Like you were trapped and drowning, and he wanted to get you out. Like there was an entire world waiting for you behind this wall of ice. Why does Yoichi look at you like that?

You wanted to ask him. Desperately so… why? Why do you look at me, as though you could love me?

And for that one rare moment, you snapped.

Why? You’d say, letting the years of pent-up frustration and sadness fall in rivers of silver. You didn’t understand... yet, in your heart, there was no denying it.

From way back to when you were children, Yoichi had already reached his hand out for you to take. He never left because he knew, even back then… that he was the only one you had. That you’d be lost if one more thing was going to leave you, that you’d drown and never come back if you had to give up another thing for the sake of another. If you had to choose from two equally important things: your happiness or the world?

Perhaps he wanted you to be a little more selfish. To put yourself first for a change. Because you’d spent so long asking others what they want… he wanted you to ask yourself what you want. And he’d be there to pick up the pieces of a world in ruin if he gets to see you smile.

And it unnerved you so, that it took you over a score to see him. To look to him in a different light. All that he did for you, and all that you did to him when all he ever wanted was for you to see yourself. To have you love your soul… and if he was lucky, maybe you could learn to love him, too.

The universe answered his life-long wish, so it seemed.

---

You had the biggest crush on him.

Him. Nagumo Yoichi. Your next-door neighbor from your childhood days. The one who egged you into aggravated assault. The guy who'd take a thousand bullets for you. The one who'd shamelessly dress up as a girl to get you out of infiltration missions. The one who had all the patience in the world. All the happiness in the universe could offer.

Nagumo who could have had anything in the world, anyone he wanted, all at the snap of his fingers... yet he chose to stay beside you.

You had the biggest crush on Nagumo Yoichi, your husband.

Now, there was a big difference in loving someone, and having a crush on him.

Six years you've been together. Six long years, and even still, you find yourself staring at him when he's across the room. Trailing your eyes in the fiery warmth of his wake. Feeling like a thousand fireworks are exploding in your stomach, the rhythm of your heart going a beat faster, the songs they sing submerged in saturated adoration that it leaves you blushing like a high school girl.

He makes you giddy and nervous that it leaves you looking back and forth to your reflection in any shiny surface to see if you look alright.

Whenever you go out, whether it's for official business or a date, you'd struggle to find the right outfit—the perfect choice of clothes because you want to look your best for him, to have him think that you're pretty. And if you could, you'd spend forever styling your hair until every strand will never dare to go out of place ever again.

If the phone rings, the small flickering fire of hope burns into a blazing inferno, lighting up the sky with the hopes that it's him who's calling you, that it's him who's texting you.

When he's close enough to touch, near enough to hold, you just want him to lean in and kiss you.

There was no denying it, you have a crush on your husband.

And when he meets your stare, and he smiles, like there was nothing that could ever compare to you, you’d think to yourself that you’re at the luckiest you’ve ever been. Because you had him, and he had you. He loves you… and you love him.

Even now, as he sits so boyishly on the sofa, with his legs spread out so far it leaves no room for anyone else, you just can't stop staring at him.

Thinking to yourself that out of every soul in this infinite universe, you get to be his wife.

You married that guy.

Yoichi who’d dive to the depths of the sea to save you. Travel to the ends of the universe if you asked him to. Tie a lasso around the stars and bring them all to you. Count the grains of sand, tally every heartbeat that has echoed since the dawn of time, and even then, it wouldn’t be enough to tell you how much he loves you.

You married him. Yoichi… your husband, the man at the center of your planet-sized crush. You married him. He’s your husband.

They love us, you said to him back then at the day of your wedding.

Yet he simply looked to you, I love you.

And there was nothing in this world that could ever be greater than that.

it's short bcz i'm so stressed, 11 quizzes in a span of 4 days is so... evil 😭 I legitimately do not know what kind of turn this took but it's there

[ladybyakuya]

| THAW + GAKU. 

+cw. — fem!reader, biker au, biker!gaku, biker!nagumo, uzuki, akira, kashimo are mentioned, background uzurion & taroaoi; no fluff or smut so idk what to mention except, heavy pining, tension, first meet, and flirting. Will there be more? Lets see? 

+wc. —1.2k 

+syn.— oya? A new face in town? A new trophy to win? Perhaps. . .

+notes. — thought too much about biker!gaku while listening to Tough by l d ray and now i’m here.| redirect to blog navigation.

Gaku always ties his ace hand bandages on both hands all by himself while the spectators watch him do it, slowly surrounding him like a bevy of stars, boys and girls alike thinking what if he needs help, what if he picks one of them but he never picks someone from the crowd to do it. It is a holy ritual for him, a gesture of good luck before he secures a win against the rival gang but tonight as he spots a new face among the crowd and that too in the rival gang he can not help but wonder who might you be! 

He sees you hiding behind one of the top bikers in the rival gang, Rion Akao clutching onto her arms like it is a last stick in the sea to survive, eyes lingering all over the place with a downpour of worry and fear. Why did Akao-san bring you here? Or were you that curious that she could not dismiss your demand? Did you throw a tantrum? Oh my my! Are you the tantrum-thrower type? Kei who is standing by his side notices how Gaku’s hand movements have ceased while doing his silly habit for what he calls “a holy ritual.” 

He nudges Gaku’s elbow saying, “Oye focus.”

“Huh?” was all Gaku yielded from his chest looking at Kei and then looking at you asking, “Who’s that? Never seen her before.”

“That’s Rion. You truly need those eyes to get checked.” While Geku’s eyes still watch you from the gaps of the crowd, his eyebrows pinch at first; then he turns his head towards Uzuki exclaiming with a tone of taunt laced underneath, “Really now! You have eyes only for Rion-san but no one else, huh?” as he leans over the engine of his bike and everyone in the crowd vocally swoons in unison at his stance which certainly makes you notice that particular crowd surrounding a biker on the opposite side of the road.

Uzuki’s eyes go flat like a heart monitor of a dying patient. He can’t put up with this now! Literally can’t.Not again. The visible annoyance on his face does not go unnoticed by Gaku and hence, he decides to salt and pepper it as the announcement starts to blare, “Everyone! clear the path. The race is going to start soon. Everyone! clear the path The race. . .”

Today’s crowd is not that rowdy so Kashimo does not have to hurt his throat and lungs much. Sometimes he has to take medicine but that happens on special days, like when there is a race match between Taro and Uzuki. 

As the crowd disperses, Nagumo gets ready for his race against Gaku. The former holds his helmet in his hands as Rion whispers in his ears. Nagumo laughs as Rion steps away with a serious expression while he laughs before stating,” Sure. Sure. I will take her on a ride for sure,” looking at you. 

“I will not wear a helmet though.” You demand. One of Nagumo’s eyebrows jumps; not that Nagumo is reluctant to your choice yet feels the urge to look at Rion. Her expression does not help him much. 

“No. can’t do. Safety first lady.”  Nagumo chimes.

Now the road is occupied by the two bikers who are about to race against each other. Most of the crowd had stepped back to the pavement alongside the road. Gaku still has not completed his ace bandage, which is spotted from where Kashimo is announcing. He was just about to ping Uzuki about it but things take an unexpected turn.

Standing among the crowd, you laugh at Nagumo’s silly antics while Rion scolds him. Gaku glances at Kei before he extends his arm towards the other side of the road. The unified commotion of the crowd dissipates gradually as you finally lay eyes on him. You see the guy opposite Nagumo swallowing, the movement of his Adam’s apple is painfully visible. It takes a while for everyone to understand who is he pointing at.

Rion and Kei exchange looks. While Kei lets his fingers skim through his hair in disbelief a smile tugs up along Rion’s lips. “Go on. He is harmless,” says she swatting her hand making your lithe grip let loose. You look at Aoi who is standing beside Taro holding his hand because Rion saying ‘harmless’ is not the kind of gauging you can easily rely on. Aoi smiles at you while Taro just nods. Now, what’s that supposed to mean? You look at the biker on the opposite side of the road who is still waiting, extending his hand out towards you. 

You sigh, just once but with the silence that got clustered in this place within a few minutes your sigh sure sounds heavy. You cross the road, stand in front of Gaku, and grace him with a two-second eye contact before holding those dangling bandages. You tilt your head and inspect. There is not much to be done, except wrapping the tape around his fingers and the thumb part has already been done. It is a good thing that you knew otherwise it would be so embarrassing. Maybe he would instruct you or show you how to do it on one of his hands so that you could do the other. You secure the wrapping with the velcro ends it had. Your ears pick up a question, “Are you new around here?”

Gaku gives you his other hand with a tape coming out of his pocket. You look at him with a surprise washing over your face, lips visibly apart as your eyebrows pinch. Is this guy for real? “No. Not really,” you say inserting the loop over his thumb. You need a sort of support to achieve the tight binding it demands. A part of you wants to avoid any sort of skin contact not because he is a stranger or an acquaintance of an acquaintance but because you would like your boundaries to be protected. So, you scoot forward a little letting his fingertips rest on the leather jacket yours,  the left side where your heart resides, while holding his wrist that has already been wrapped. You start to wrap the tape around his wrist then diagonally when Gaku notices how even your heart beats. It makes him nervous. 

“What will you be doing after this race?” Your movement pauses for like two seconds and then you continue. “Are you free?” Gaku can feel your heart rate. It is not calm anymore. You tie around his knuckles, then move to wrap in between his fingers one by one taking your time while the grip on his wrist grows firm. You can feel his pulse too. It is throbbing like an old light in the attic.

“Am not,” you utter, sticking the two ends of velcro one over the other. Glancing at him once you get back to the other side of the road getting behind Rion like you did before but this time not holding her hand or Akiras who is smiling and giving you looks. 

“That was an odd display of . . . affection?” The mike is alive again. Gaku looks like he just has his pants. 

“You really need to teach him some manners Kei.”  Gaku voiced. 

Uzuki lets out a chuckle offering the most humble response, “Now why would I do that?”

[mirrortouchedsea]

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY @transactinides MWAHHHHH here's 4.7k words of a Shinobu character study just for youuuuu.

CW for bullying. I also would like to note that the appellations are not quite what they are on the wiki just because it is pre-canon so I figured it would show the original distance between him and everyone else so do naught @ me about this one. It was intentional. I did post it on ao3 in the link above but you can also just read it under the read more :3

---

He clutches at his froggy plushie as his mom walks him down the hall. It’s Shinobu Sengoku’s first day of elementary school and he is so nervous, but his mom says it’ll be okay. He can make friends here! Maybe they’ll like frogs too. He wonders if there will be any frogs on the playground he saw outside. 

Okay Shinobu-kun, it’s time for me to go, are you going to be okay? His mom crouches down in front of him and Shinobu wants to cry. He’s never been without his mom before. He would have to go to school…alone? He shakes his head. His mom laughs and pulls him into a hug. It’ll be okay, Shinobu-kun, I’ll pick you up at the end of the day, okay? Okay… 

His mom ruffles his hair before standing up to leave. Shinobu just stands in the doorway until the teacher pulls him away and shows him to his seat. His froggy plushie is still in his hands and he pulls it closer to his body. Are the other kids looking at him? Oh no…they’re judging his froggy… 

He looks away from the rest of the children in the room and puts his plushie in his backpack. He’ll still be there, he tells himself. Mr. Froggy won’t leave him alone. Of course he wouldn’t! Shinobu had to be brave for Mr. Froggy and his mom, so he gets back in his seat and listens to the teacher as class begins. 

--- 

By the time the fall holidays roll around, Shinobu knows that the other kids don’t like him very much. It took two weeks before someone stole Mr. Froggy and another three weeks for someone else to start calling him names. Shinobu wasn’t sure what the names meant, but the other kids would laugh at him and it wasn’t the type of laugh people did on TV when the hero slipped on a banana peel. He’s stopped trying to talk to the other kids during recess. 

When his mom asks if he’s made any friends, he finds that he can’t tell her the truth. He doesn’t want to hurt his mom’s feelings, after all. Of course he has friends. He starts making up stories of him and his friends’ exploits on the playground, but it feels hollow and lonely. What was he doing wrong? The other kids ran around and screamed on the playground but Shinobu is a quiet kid. Maybe being quiet was wrong…? But he felt bad when he yelled if he wasn’t excited. Why was it so hard to make friends (and why can’t he tell his mom he doesn’t know how to make them)? 

Around the winter holidays, Shinobu discovers ninjas. It’s one of the tokusatsu shows where they get saved by a lone ninja. The ninja never revealed his face but Shinobu felt a strange sense of sameness with the character. He was alone so much, just like the ninja. He could be cool too! He starts begging his mom for ninja stars or at least a cool headband like the ones on TV. On the playground and around the house, he does ninjutsu moves and his mom and teachers smile at his antics. 

He gets a ninja costume for Christmas and doesn’t take it off for days. It’s his favorite gift under the tree and he wants to show it off to everyone who will look. In January a kid on the playground shoves him in the mud and Shinobu no longer wears it to school. 

--- 

When he enters the next school year, Shinobu hopes things will be different. Maybe his class will be different and he’ll be able to talk to someone about how cool ninjas are! He’s running down the hallway, hands in front of him in one of his ninja arts poses. He was still learning what they meant but he was pretty sure this one was for stealth. Well, as stealthy as he can be running down the hallway at school. The teacher still yells at him for running in the hallway. 

Just like last year, Shinobu tells himself he will be brave and make friends! The person sitting next to him wasn’t in his class last year, so he introduces himself and does his ninja hand signs. The other kid smiles and says they should play together at recess! Mission: success! 

Shinobu can’t stop grinning as he eagerly awaits for class to end and recess to start. Does this other kid like ninjas? Or maybe he likes tokusatsu, which was okay because Shinobu liked tokusatsu too! He’s practically bouncing on his way to the playground before remembering he should wait for his new friend. He skids to a halt next to a slide and has to keep from looking too excited. 

The other kid arrives quickly and Shinobu quickly finds himself asking so many questions about ninjas and if they liked them. Did you know that real ninja weren’t like what they show on TV? Who’s your favorite ranger? Mine is the yellow one. She's so cool! The other kid places his hands on Shinobu’s shoulders to get his attention. Was he being too overwhelming again? The other kid says something about how Shinobu seems nice but…he doesn’t think they’d be good friends. Sorry about that. 

Shinobu wipes the tears from his eyes but says he understands. The other kid says thank you and apologizes again before running off to the playground with his other friends. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. At least this kid was nice to him about it. It could always be worse. 

Shinobu starts bringing his froggy plushie to school again, talking to it like he imagines normal people talk to their friends. Mr. Froggy has such interesting answers, telling Shinobu about the pond and the other animals that live there. There are even frogs who are ninja and protect the little pond community! Shinobu promises Mr. Froggy that he’ll protect the pond too, and he starts catching small bugs and feeding them to the frogs on the playground. The other kids tell him that it’s gross to hang out with frogs. At least the frogs listen to him talk about ninjas. 

--- 

Second grade! Shinobu knows by now that the other kids think he’s too weird to talk to. Some of them are nice to him when they do group projects but he knows they try to keep their distance. Between naming the frogs that lived on the school grounds and running around pretending to be a ninja, it wasn’t hard to understand that people found him… odd. He couldn’t understand why, because running around like a ninja was super duper fun. It wasn’t any different than his classmates pretending to be pirates or superheroes from their favorite anime series, was it? 

For a few months that year, there was a popular ninja anime series everyone enjoyed but even then, nobody would play with him. He watched them attempt the ninja arts and tried to correct their form but they just made a face and told him to go away. Was he wrong…? Didn’t they want to make sure they were doing the right signs for what they wanted to do? 

He had even been excited to talk about the anime with the other kids, he tuned in to the new episode every week as soon as he got home from school even! But still, everyone avoided him. Sometimes he could tell one of them would feel bad for rejecting him for the millionth time and would let him play but they never seemed as into it as he was. They always did ninja art: invisibility and ran away after a few minutes. 

--- 

Three more years go by and Shinobu is in middle school. He’s used to the loneliness now, often sitting in a corner at lunch by himself, going over his secret ninja skills and talking to the frogs he’s taken care of over the years. It hurt but over time he found ways to push it down and he managed to make it to middle school. Being almost 11, his parents stopped indulging his ninja obsession and tried to introduce him to other things but nothing could ever replace the great and wonderful ninja! He’s been poring over every book he could find at the library about them, and even started to talk like them. It is most befitting of a noble ninja to speak properly and clearly, and so he does. 

The librarian was the closest thing he had to what one would consider a friend. She laughs at his jokes and plays along with his imagination, she even shows him how to make paper throwing stars, which are very difficult to aim but very fun to throw anyway. He fills his room with paper ninja stars and turns them into all sorts of things, even giving them to his classmates to try and make friends (despite telling himself that he was okay by himself, he still longed for someone to connect with). He often found them in the trash at the end of the day. 

At night, after a particularly rough day at school, Shinobu cries. He doesn’t know why, but the tears start running down his face and he can’t make them stop. Who can he even talk to about this? Mr. Froggy, why is it so hard to be alone?

---

By the end of middle school, Shinobu is telling everyone he wants to become an idol and inspire other people to love ninja as much as he does! Even though ninjas should stay in the shadows, he’s willing to go on stage and represent them to the world! He’s even been accepted to Yumenosaki Academy so he has a real chance to make it as an idol! 

His classmates and teachers tell him it’s a pipe dream and to keep his expectations low. Yumenosaki has been on the decline for a while now so what good would it be to enroll there? Maybe if Shinobu had been born thirty years earlier (but someone like him would never make it as an idol anyway. A ninja idol? Who would care about that?) then he’d have a chance, a small one, but a chance. Well, it’s not like any of them would stop him from applying to Yumenosaki, and Shinobu would finally get to meet some new people, maybe he could make some friends too! 

---

Shinobu’s first day at Yumenosaki is…well it was interesting, to say the least. It was very overwhelming, seeing all of the different idol groups, and so many of them didn’t seem interested in him. There were Knights, which were too cool for Shinobu (he decided to maybe admire them from afar, but they were not people he could see himself getting along with), fine, which seemed to be the leader of the school and way out of Shinobu’s league, and Trickstar, which were not actually recruiting members, but they were on stage performing and showing off the things they’d learned about being idols and what was in store for the prospective students. Compared to how his middle school classmates had talked about Yumenosaki, it seemed like it was anything but falling apart. Which was great! But… 

Shinobu clutches at his ninja stars, holding them close to his chest. He wants to try and talk to someone at one of the booths, but it was too intimidating! Everyone is so loud and the music from the speakers makes it hard for Shinobu to gather his thoughts. He knows he’ll have to get used to it if he wants to become an idol, or learn to deal with it, but the auditorium was not doing him any favors right now. 

Someone grabs Shinobu by the shoulder and he jumps. What’s going on?! 

Are you okay, they ask, and Shinobu looks up at the stranger, dark red eyes creased in concern at Shinobu. Oh, I’m fine, please do not worry about me, uhh… Morisawa, Morisawa Chiaki. Thank you, but please do not worry about me Morisawa-dono. You looked like you wanted to sit down, do you need some air? Shinobu thinks for a moment. If this Morisawa was offering, well Shinobu was not going to deny that getting away from the crowd would be nice. He nods and Morisawa guides him out to the hall, the music becomes quiet and Shinobu feels like he can breathe again. 

I don’t think I caught your name, you’re one of the new first years correct? Yes, my name is Sengoku Shinobu. Nice to meet you Sengoku! Have you figured out what unit you want to join, I’m the leader of Ryuseitai and we’re looking for members, our audition is next week if you want to try out? Oh, that would be… There’s no pressure, Sengoku, but I think you’ll make a great idol! 

Morisawa leaves and Shinobu stays in the hallway, almost awestruck at the older boy’s statement. Did someone…other than his parents believe in him? Well, Shinobu did get into Yumenosaki to begin with, so he has that going for him, but still. He isn’t used to the feeling in his chest, his heart flutters and his thoughts running a mile a minute. Someone who didn’t even know him believed he could make it as an idol. 

Shinobu makes up his mind to attend the Ryuseitai auditions next week. He should go find Morisawa and ask what he needs to prepare, but he freezes as his hand hovers over the doorknob. What if Morisawa was lying? Plenty of kids in Shinobu’s middle school did that to him, inviting him to play and then chasing Shinobu off when he tried to join, why would Morisawa be different? Shinobu wants to curl up in the corner, but he really should go to the Ryuseitai table. Maybe there will be someone else there he can talk to. 

Okay Shinobu, you got this! Just open the door and look for the Ryuseitai table! Shinobu opens the door and tries to shut out the rest of the noise. He doesn’t want to get overwhelmed again and have to leave. If he wants to be an idol, he needs to get used to the loud venues! Despite his whole body shaking, Shinobu spots the Ryuseitai table in the corner, Morisawa is sitting with another boy with blue hair (why does it look like the other boy just walked out of the shower?). Shinobu breathes in and tries to slow his heartbeat down before making his way over to the table. 

Oh, Sengoku! Are you feeling better? Yes, thank you very much Morisawa. Ah, chiaki is this who you were ‘talking’ about? Yes it was, Sengoku, meet Kanata Shinkai, Kanata, this is Sengoku Shinobu! It is ‘nice’ to ‘meet’ you shinobu, are you ‘thinking’ about ‘joining’ ryuseitai? Y-yes, I was just wondering about the audition process! 

Morisawa digs around under the table for a second as Shinobu tries not to make eye contact with Shinkai. Shinobu thought the other boy being there would relieve his stress a little, but something about him feels strange (the irony here is lost on Shinobu). 

Alright! Here we go, you’ll have to prepare one song from this list and tell us why you’d like to join Ryuseitai specifically! Don’t worry, it’s nothing difficult so you should be fine! 

Shinobu looks at the list and notices that many of the songs are theme songs from various tokusatsu shows. Well, at least he recognizes several of them, but they’re certainly strange choices for an idol unit. Shinobu takes another look at the table, looking more closely at the unit logo and decorations. The table is covered in tokusatsu merch; stickers, buttons, pencils… that makes sense actually. Shinobu goes back to the song list and scrolls until he finds the theme song from his favorite ninja anime as a kid. That would be the best option and he can show off his ninja moves for it! 

Did you find a song you know? You have a week to prepare, we’ll have auditions here next week after school so don’t miss them! Shinobu nods and makes a mental note of that. He should actually… it’s in his phone now so he’ll definitely remember to show up. Now for his practice! 

--- 

It takes Shinobu too long to figure out how to sign out a practice room for himself (so many of them are already booked for unit rehearsal it’s hard to find one for audition practice) and he’s trying to catch up on his lost time when another boy knocks on the door. Huh? I thought I had the room to myself…de gozaru. A-ah, sorry if I’m interrupting, I know I’m such a loser but I’m lost and someone pointed me this way…were they lying to me? What are you looking for, I’m just practicing for an audition so you can sit down if you’d like. The other boy is tall with light brown hair and looks so nervous Shinobu feels bad for him. The brown haired boy trips over himself as he sets his bag down on the floor. I’m not even sure how I got into this school, I thought I applied to the general course but I couldn’t even do that right… sorry that’s not your fault at all I should just shut up now. Oh, it’s alright de gozaru, would you like to practice with me, maybe we could join the same unit? I’d rather die than be an idol, the attention is too much for me and I’d just look like a fool. 

Shinobu thinks for a few seconds on what the boy said. He can’t exactly drop out of the idol course but Morisawa seemed like he would be accepting of anyone who joined Ryuseitai, so maybe Shinobu should invite this boy to auditions. At least, maybe Morisawa could guide him in the right direction. He finally speaks, I think you would be great as an idol uh… Midori, Takamine Midori. Right! I think you’d be great as an idol T-takamine-dono! You don’t need to lie to me, I really just want to curl up in a ball right now anyway so I’ll leave you alone and you can just pretend like I’m not here. Uhm, my name is Shinobu Sengoku by the way! De gozaru. It’s…nice to meet you, Sengoku-kun.

Shinobu doesn’t really want to be watched while he practices (though he knows at least Morisawa and Shinkai will be watching his audition… he should get used to people watching him), but Midori doesn’t seem to want to move from his spot on the floor. Shinobu turns his music back on but turns the volume dial down to where he can just barely hear it and maybe it won’t disturb Midori. And one and two… 

Shinobu pants, the last note barely registers in his mind as the music is so quiet but he’s happy with how his performance went! He’ll be ready to hit the ground running tomorrow at this rate! He looks over at Midori, who fell asleep on the floor some time during Shinobu’s rehearsal. What time even was it? Oh, it’s quite late his parents would be worried and Midori’s probably were too. Hey, Takamine-dono, it’s late and you should probably go home. O-oh, I didn’t realize I fell asleep, now how am I going to sleep tonight, and what about my parents, oh I’m really worse than garbage, sorry for intruding on you uhm, do you know the way out? Shinobu slings his backpack over his shoulder. I think I remember where the exit is de gozaru, we can walk together if you want, I don’t mind. I’ve already wasted enough of your time, just give me the directions. We’ll be going the same way, it’s really not a big deal if I walk with you. 

Shinobu turns the lights off and makes sure the door is locked before turning back to the hallway. So, you didn’t mean to be in the idol course, but do you have any units in mind that you want to join? The silence is awkward but Shinobu wants to try and make friends this year. He will make friends at Yumenosaki Academy if it kills him (well, that might be a bit too much, but he would like to have someone to talk to at lunch at least). Ah, I got overwhelmed at the sign up event, so I didn’t get a good look at any of the units that were recruiting… Oh, it’s okay I did too, but this nice senior at the uh, I think it was called ‘Ryuseitai’ booth helped me calm down, maybe you’ll like him, and he said the audition would be pretty easy too. Did he, well I haven’t sang before so I don’t know if I could even pass that, let alone dancing, it’s just too much for someone like me. Don’t talk like that, you can practice with me, we can audition together, like friends! I really wouldn’t want to impose on you any more, Sengoku-kun, it’s fine I’ll just get kicked out and go back to being a normal student somewhere else. Shinobu frowns but doesn’t say anything back. He really wants to be friends with the other boy, but it seemed as if Midori was trying to keep his distance. 

Before Shinobu knew it, the two of them had made it to the front doorway of the school. I know you don’t want to be an idol but I hope you’ll consider my offer, de gozaru, I really want to be friends with you Takamine-dono! Midori turns away from Shinobu and doesn’t say anything, just walks away. Well…they’d see each other tomorrow, right? Shinobu sighs before heading back to his own home, going over how he’d tell his parents that he was late (he wonders if they even noticed how late he was coming home from school). 

---

Midori comes back to the practice room the next day and mumbles under his breath that he wouldn’t mind auditioning with Shinobu, if they were doing it together it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. Shinobu smiles wide and they start talking about what each of them will be preparing for the audition. Midori isn’t familiar with the types of tokusatsu shows that Morisawa put on the audition list, but after spending some time listening to them on youtube, they find one that sounds easy enough to learn in five days. Shinobu is already pretty confident in being able to sing his selection, so he starts by finding the lyrics for Midori and going over them section by section. They spend most of the afternoon just learning the song, but by the end of it Midori has it down with only one or two slip ups. Shinobu’s stomach growls and the two decide to call it for the day and go home for dinner, but Midori promises to come back so they can learn simple choreography together. 

As the audition draws closer, both Shinobu and Midori are making decent progress if Shinobu can say anything! They can do simple choreography, steps and light movement while singing and not losing their train of thought. It should be good enough for the audition, at least Morisawa didn’t seem like the type of person to be mean if they did get rejected, which was about all Shinobu was going to ask for at this point, but he had a good feeling about everything! Takamine-dono, I think we’ve got a pretty good shot at our audition de gozaru! You think so Sengoku-kun, I keep stumbling over that one part before the chorus, I don’t know if they’d accept someone as clumsy as me, maybe I should just give up now… Don’t talk like that Takamine-dono, you’ve made a lot of progress, and I’m sure they’ll recognize your potential! You don’t have to hide how much you hate my performance, Sengoku-kun, it won’t hurt my feelings. I’m being honest though, I really think you’re doing great Takamine-dono. 

--- 

The day of the audition arrives and Shinobu is shaking. He’s been practicing so hard for this moment and it’s finally here! Midori is next to him, and Shinobu can feel Midori shaking a little bit too. It’s nice to know that he’s not alone. The judges are only Morisawa and Shinkai, the two Shinobu met on the first day, and the only other person auditioning with them was a boy with black hair and dyed red streaks who was bouncing his foot in a way that just made Shinobu’s nerves worse. The boy with black and red hair was called in first (Nagumo Tetora was his name. Shinobu wonders if they’ll be able to become friends too) and then it was just Midori and Shinobu in the hallway. I’m so nervous, Takamine-dono. You’ll do great Sengoku-kun, you are way better than I am, I’m sure you’ll get in. Don’t talk down about yourself Takamine-dono, you’ve put in a lot of work too and I’m sure Morisawa-dono and Shinkai-dono will see that! 

The door opens and the black haired boy steps out, sighing in relief. Good luck, you two. Shinobu hears his name called from inside the practice room and Shinobu gives Midori’s hand a squeeze for good luck before walking in. He’s shaking, but takes a deep breath. This is what you’ve been practicing for, Sengoku! You can do it! He hears Morisawa’s voice cheering him on in his head (Morisawa’s mouth isn’t moving when Shinobu hears the encouragement, but Shinobu can sense the words coming from Morisawa anyway). Shinobu begins his song, trying not to forget his choreography as he goes, but there’s still a misstep halfway through that causes Shinobu to stumble. Don’t let it get to you, Sengoku, just keep going, Morisawa’s voice echoes in Shinobu’s head. 

By the time Shinobu finishes, he’s panting and his legs could just give out at any moment, but he did it! He made it through with only a few mistakes! Morisawa and Shinkai clap and stand up, congratulating Shinobu on a job well done and Shinobu feels his heart soar. His efforts paid off! Morisawa and Shinkai tell him to send Midori in, which Shinobu agrees to do. 

Takamine-dono, it’s your turn! Shinobu has to drag Midori into a standing position. I don’t know Sengoku-kun, I don’t think I’m cut out to be an idol, I should just go lay in a hole outside, at least I wouldn’t be bothering anyone. Takamine-dono, I believe in you, I think you can be an idol de gozaru. Shinobu all but drags Midori over to the door and pushes him into the audition room, giving a smile and a thumbs up before gently closing the door again. He sighs and sits next to the black haired boy who is twiddling his thumbs. 

I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, but my name is Sengoku Shinobu, it’s nice to meet you! Nagumo Tetora, the other boy says without even looking at Shinobu. Well, that’s fine. If they get into Ryuseitai together, they’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other so Shinobu doesn’t worry right now. Why are you auditioning for Ryuseitai, Shinobu asks to fill the silence. He can tell exactly where Midori should be in his routine despite the wall muffling some of the sound. They have a minute or so left. Tetora’s face flushes. Well, I uh, I got rejected from the other unit I auditioned for, and this one was the only one still doing auditions, and you? Morisawa-dono invited me to after helping me out with something on the first day. Tetora laughs and the door opens, Midori calling them both inside. 

Shinobu stands in between the other two boys as Morisawa and Shinkai go over their notes from the auditions. Despite being first years, they had so much potential and all three of them were accepted into the unit. Shinobu feels lighter than air (he knows that a unit can have a maximum of five people and only the three of them auditioned, that doesn’t go over his head, but still) and when Morisawa and Shinkai pull them into a big group hug, Shinobu thinks he’s finally found his place. Even if Midori and Tetora protest against the gesture, Shinobu wants to frame this memory forever. Practice starts tomorrow. 

[commandernarumi]

nagushin | delirium pits

Shin doesn’t remember if he ever physically recoiled from looking into someone’s mind before, or if this is the first time. Either way, Nagumo is to blame for it.

word count: 3.8k

read here

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: 18+ minors/ageless blogs don't interact, slightly suggestive (implied petting and oral sex (f receiving)), slight dubcon just to be sure (it's implied that although the reader rejects nagumo, they have a deal in place and safewords etc), slight mention of violence and gore, angst implied, she-her / afab character.

you knew it was a losing game with your husband.

usually, you'd prefer not to even play his games, knowing the outcome, but this week has been hard and long and tiring and you were on your last nerve.

with nagumo and the whole world.

and maybe that's why you hadn't thought straight when you had gotten onto your usual calming past-time - finishing crosswords and puzzles on your weekly magazine - while chilling in the living room sofa. usually, you'd do so till nagumo came back from whatever bone-chilling and eldritch-infused horror he might have fought that day, before shifting onto caring for him.

it was either you did on your own, or he'd bother you till you gave up whatever you were playing with (or pushing your attention onto).

today, though, you had no honest patience and upon hearing the door opening and his obonoxious call for you, you ignored it and simply shifted onto a comfortable position on the couch, making sure that you wouldn't be seeing him once he walked in.

he might get the message although he never did.

«why so cold?» he grumped promptly, undeterred by your obvious - and implicit - request for private time as he chose - among the vast space of the couch - to sit beside you. another centimeter and he'd be in your lap. basically «... pissed off at me or at the world?».

«just focused on the task at hand» you replied, because as much as you were disgruntled and needed your space, you also didn't want him to assume that he was the origin of your bad mood.

you and nagumo might have an antagonistic banter that made eyes raise when you told others that you were - legally - married, but this didn't mean that you couldn't tolerate him.

at least, not always.

he could be a pain in the ass when he wanted.

which oftentimes concided with your genuine need for a breath of fresh air, because suddenly it all felt so overwhelming and difficult and...

«...hhm, so ... you are ignoring me on purpose».

although the - correct - accusation, nagumo's tone stayed distended and calm as he lightly tipped one finger against his cheek in contemplation while you stole a look.

he must have showered at the order headquarters as he didn't have a drop of gore of ugliness onto him.

oh, how much you detested his easygoing perfection.

«so, you can take an hint» you shot back irritated, as you shifted your attention onto him for but a moment, although it felt far too late as nagumo was a trained assassin.

you should have been as well, but you lacked the distinct skills of the order members.

the stealthy way in which he pushed you against the shoulder of the couch - not strong enough to hurt you but with enough steadiness to pin you there - and the lethality that contradistinguished a predator. he had, on top of this, the gut to smirk at you.

«... that's cruel» he said with a fake pout «to greet so coldly your husband. who has, again, worked so hard to support you».

«I might not make as much money as you nagumo, but I can support myself» it had been at your insistence chosen not to mix your asset after the marriage, although with the way gifts cascaded onto you for no big occasion, you might have as well «either way, I am cranky annoyed and trying to find this fucking word so would you mind giving me space?».

oh worst idea ever, to word out your need.

nagumo didn't believe in 'space' and it should have worried you immediately, the way in which he pushed back from the pinning position, reclaiming his position beside you.

still, as you knew that this was a game you couldn't win, and yet fought in it dulled by tiredness and anger, you ignored the obvious signs of something brewing in his mind and resumed with the puzzle that you had been trying to solve.

it wasn't anything complex: a simple word scheme where you had to find each word scribbled below written vertically, horizontally and diagonally.

it was a tiresome little mind exercise and yet, it felt calming although at the moment the difficulty at finding a specific word in the scheme of things was making it a tad... frustrating.

and right as you almost found it, it was your legs that were pulled; nagumo pulled onto them quickly enough to make you huff as you went from your seated position onto laying on your back, with your magazine strictly beside your hands and your head lightly lolling to the side in the swift movement.

as if it wasn't enough, he started pushing down your home joggers and it was what you needed to catch onto his thoughts.

«don't even think about it» you threatened promptly while nagumo kept on going, definitely not pushed back from your haughty tone; you both knew that if you had truly been against it, he'd be on the ground with a broken nose.

(it had happened once, when he had thought to approach you in a new disguise at a bar and you had been too drunk to notice his usual tics).

«what?» he feigned innocence, once the joggers were off and it was about time for your fuzzy socks - you felt a wave of embarassment at them - which he treated as if they were high-end stockings. maybe he might be a huge pain your ass, but he had endeared himself to you, endlessly «... I thought you wanted space from me».

«you are touching me» you counterattacked.

«... but I am leaving you space» he didn't make a good argument, although he technically had left you space «... finish your word puzzle my dear, in the meanwhile I shall entertain myself».

with you.

a toyingly good smirk appeared on his face, not anymore the predator hunting but some boyish charm in his face, not fully genuine but he never were after long missions. still, it was yours.

well, if he wanted to play this game, indeed.

you had readied yourself with stubborness and frustration and you wouldn't have let him go so easily, as your eyes fought to stay on the page and search the next word, before a gentle touch over your panties was enough to make you crunch together the newspaper.

fuck, you had severely undermined the power of having missed him.

long fingers had certain perks, although right now they weren't doing much more than tracing tantalizing shapes onto your legs and between your thighs, coming closer and closer to the hem of your panties just to push away.

he was definitely right in saying he'd be entertaining himself. with you.

oh how, you hated him and how hard it was to focus on the word puzzle.

and yet, you refused to give up so willingly as you took a deep breath and thought of everything that was a turnoff: nagumo's bad morning breath, his tendency to discard clothes wherever he could when he was tired and the way he'd hog the covers.

with that in mind, you went back to your puzzle, just to be bambozzled by the touch of something wet against your damp underwear.

you willed yourself not to stray your eyes away from the magazine.

but oh gods, were you weak.

a first look and dark was all that you could see, with nagumo's hair falling right into his eyes, which just heightened to the hungry look he was delivering. especially as his eyes weren't focused onto you at all, but on your own cunt, right between your legs.

oh my.

if you hadn't already been aroused by the touches, his intense gaze was enough to send you overdrive as you felt the grip onto the magazine lessen and loosen.

he had won, and yet, you wouldn't have made it easy for him, ditching the intensity of his darkness in favor of trying to focus to what appered like a messy set of words and letters.

you'd need all the luck in the world and it wouldn't be enough, because sometimes - just sometimes - your husband knew better than you what you needed.

[zmzebra-writes]

ES Rare Pair Week 2024 Day 5: The Beach

Title: It's Called a Warrior's Bond Relationships: Hiiro Amagi/Tetora Nagumo Summary: Tetora and Hiiro fight more than each other before going to see the sunset at the beach. Sunset confessions silly style.

Neither Hiiro nor Tetora thought too much about their relationship. After school, they would go to Karate Club, and then go to ES because their clubmates got too scared. If they had an overlapping off-day, they would meet up and train together across the city. They had a bond of two warriors powered by their rivalry to improve.

That’s all it ever was. Which is why both of them were unsure what had everyone around them so confused.

Arashi liked to tease Tetora about his frequent outings with Hiiro. “So are you going with anyone special to the beach?”

“Nope! Just Hiiro-kun,” replied Tetora as he packed his bag with the necessities, “We plan to stay there until sunset. We’re going out for dinner after watching it.”

“Just the two of you?” Arashi gave a mischievous smile.

“Yep! Just us.”

Arashi sighed. “How romantic~.”

Tetora froze with a shake, bag half zipped. His face turned red. “It-it’s not a d-d-date, Narukami-senpai! It’s just, it’s just a training activity! For Karate Club!”

Arashi hummed. “Mhm. And tell me where the rest of the Karate Club will be during this?”

Tetora fiddled with his hands as he quietly spoke. “... They can’t keep up with us so they want us to do our intense training away from them.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to spend time with Hiiro-kun alone?” teased Arashi, “You two have spent an awfully large amount of time together recently?”

Steam flowed out of Tetora’s ears as he became more flustered. “We, we’ve just had a lot of shared free time lately! All a coincidence! Who knows when the next one is!”

“Is that really all it is?” Tetora was looking so cute, Arashi felt like pushing further.

Tetora opened and closed his mouth, but no real words came out. Embarrassed beyond words, Tetora grabbed his half-closed bag and ran out of the dorm.

‘Hmm. I wonder if I pushed Tetora-kun too hard…’ she thought to herself with a hand on her cheek.

Hiiro was not exempt from nosy friends either. 

“What do you mean you are already going out with someone else this Saturday?” asked Aira, “For the entire day, too?”

Hiiro nodded his head. “Umu. Bucchou had the day off from idol activities as well so we are going to train until sundown.”

Aira groaned in frustration. “Ughhh… It feels like every day off we’ve had lately, you go off to hang out with Nagumo-senpai. Don’t you see him enough at school?”

Hiiro shook his head. “Since Bucchou is in charge of the Karate Club, he has a responsibility to stay and look out for the younger members and thus we cannot fight as intensely as we like. The other members are frightened by our fighting.”

“Can’t you just fight using less deadly force?”

Hiiro shook his head again. “How can we improve if we don’t give our best in the fight?”

Aira gave Hiiro a flat look for a minute before sighing. “I suppose there’s nothing I can do then. Enjoy your date with your boyfriend or whatever.”

That last sentence made Hiiro jump. He had seen enough dramas with Aira to know what that meant… “Boyfriend?!”

Aira looked confused at Hiiro’s over the top reaction. “Huh?”

“What do you mean boyfriend? You don’t happen to mean ‘my friend who is a boy’, right? Or do you mean my l-love-l-lov…..” Hiiro broke down into incomprehensible stuttering.

Aira stifled a giggle at the sight. Hiiro seemed distressed enough it felt cruel to leave him there though, so Aira patted him on the back to reassure his friend. “It was a joke, Hiro-kun. I don’t actually think you’re dating Nagumo-senpai.”

Hiiro’s face stayed red. He pouted.

“You just keep hanging out with him so much that it’s like you’re dating,” explained Aira.

Hiiro looked at Aira with a raised eyebrow. “But we spend a lot of time together and you aren’t my boyfriend.”

It was now Aira’s turn to be flustered. “O-Obviously! We are friends and unitmates! Of course we spend a lot of time together!”

“But we’re not boyfriends.”

“That’s why I said it as a joke, Hiro-kun! A. Joke!” Aira felt it was unfair of Hiiro to turn his joke on him in this way.

Aira huffed. This is what he gets for trying to be nice. “I’m going to go hang out with Kohakucchi instead! He’ll appreciate me.”

Hiiro waved goodbye. “Have fun with your boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Despite the interference, both boys made it to the beach and had a fulfilling training session. Sand flew everywhere as they fought on the unusual terrain. A few people saw the sandstorm in the distance and decided to visit the beach tomorrow instead. 

Exhausted from a workout gone well, the two boys sat on the sand to admire the sunset as they drank their waters. 

“Nothing manlier than two guys watching the sunset after a fierce battle, right Hiiro-kun?”

“Umu!”

“And to think Narukami-senpai thought there was something weird about it.”

“Hmm?” Hiiro tilted his head.

Tetora realized his mistake. “Ah, I mean, um. It’s not that important!”

“It sounds like it bothered you,” said Hiiro, “Is your relationship with Narukami-senpai alright?”

Tetora sighed as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s not really that serious. She was just teasing me about how often we spend time together.”

Hiiro nodded in understanding. “Aira did the same to me yesterday. He told me to have a nice time with my boyfriend.”

Something about the word had Tetora’s heart skipping a beat and his face felt warm once more. 

“Hmm? Did I say something wrong?”

“Ahh… it’s just that word is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” Tetora looked away from Hiiro’s face.

“Which word? Boyfriend?” 

Tetora let out a squeak. 

“... Boyfriend.”

“Stop it!”

Hiiro finally understood Aira’s joke. “My boyfriend, Tetora-kun.”

That last attack had Tetora turning red from head to foot. He fell back first into the sand as he covered his flushed face with his hands.

“Bucchou!”

Tetora fizzled out on the sand as Hiiro futzed over his side asking if he was okay. After a few moments, he was finally able to speak. “Words can hurt, Hiiro-kun.”

“I’m sorry, Bucchou, I hadn’t realized the word was so powerful.” Hiiro had actually, but like everyone else before him, found the reaction worth the attack.

Tetora scowled from the sand reading Hiiro’s mind. He knew Hiiro wasn’t as ignorant as he made himself out to be. “How would you like it if I turned it on you and called you my boyfriend, Hiiro-kun?”

Hiiro silently blushed bright red and fell from his knees to sit on the sand. 

“... I wouldn’t mind it,” he eventually mumbled in an attempt to prove the word had no power over him.

Tetora somehow flushed redder. “Huh?! You do know what a boyfriend is, right?”

Hiiro nodded slowly.

“A boyfriend is a person you go on dates with and hug and k-kiss and, and other lovey-dovey stuff!”

Both of them blushed deeper as Hiiro slowly nodded again making a strange expression.

“So!” Tetora felt out of breath for some reason despite having never moved from his spot. “What do you mean by that?!”

Hiiro glanced away as his lips formed a strange shape: not quite a smile, nor a frown as they fidgeted.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?!” asked Tetora, stressed out of his mind.

Through pursed lips, Hiiro quietly spoke. “...That sounds nice.”

It was as if a balloon had popped as Tetora felt all his stress flow out of him like air. “I guess you really are my boyfriend now, Hiiro.”

Hiiro felt warm at Tetora’s words. “And you’re mine, Tetora-kun.”

Tetora covered his face and resisted the urge to kick Hiiro for making him feel this way.

[mirktea]

One Last Puff

a short fic of Nagumo’s yearly custom for the last 8 years.

“one bottle of sake and a pack of cigarette please.”

Shin who currently man the counter eyed the tattooed man suspiciously.

“i didn't know you smoked, Nagumo-san.”

“occasionally.” the man shrugged lightly. The look in his eyes is darker, not a trace of his usual playfulness in view. Sakamoto, who was observing not far from the counter only stared at his old time friend.

“wait, Nagumo.” Sakamoto rummages under the counter searching for something. Nagumo heard the clinks of two shot glass that Sakamoto took out from under the counter as he handed it to him. “for sharing, if you need to.”

Nagumo chuckled. “with who?”

“if not with her, just think it as my representation as I can't visit her.”

“are you visiting your girlfriend, Nagumo-san?” Shin asked teasingly. “nah, just an old friend.” the dark haired man only shows a strained smile and left the store.

after walking a few steps from the store, Shin heard a thought.

‘just a dear old friend…’

————

He sat there, back resting on her tombstone. he poured the sake to both glass he got from Sakamoto. One glass he put beside the flower, the other one he gulp down immediately, starting his yearly custom.

Minutes turns into hours. He's there when the sun was right above his head, and still there now that it was replaced by the moon. his cheeks flushed a little, but his eyes as dark as ever. the bottle of sake was empty but his head was still full.

full of regret. full of anguish.full of what ifs. full of her.

it's the 8th anniversary of Rion Akao's death. it's the 8th year he's done this. it's the 8th time he spent a day by her grave. it's the 8th time he let his tears falls freely.

if Shishiba or Sakamoto saw him now, they will award him for talking the least sentence in a day as he usually talks their ears off.

as the night turns colder, Nagumo was on his last cigarette. he light it up, head as hazy as the night. he can't differentiate the smoke from his cigarette and the night fog. he mumbled “one last puff…” as he ihale it and turn off the cigarette. he got up, picks up the shot glass and empty bottle, and turns away.

“see you next year, Akao.”

[faintrustle]

There's something so sexy about NAGUMO YOICHI's nape.

[akimoroll]

coated biscuit sticks.

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x reader — college au

fem reader. fluff. suggestive. minors dni — wc: 2.1k—part of a series on ao3

[next→]

“Oh, hell no.” Your roommate cackled as she stood beside you, looking around your desk.

You turned to her, “Should I be worried?”

“Well…” she pursed her lips, “he is a bit of a menace and popular at that.”

You snickered, “Ooh, scary.”

“Just…” she trailed off, “be careful.”

You chuckled and continued writing your notes, “It’s not like I’m gonna hang out with him. It’s just… peer tutoring.”

She walks over to her side of the room, “Whatever you say, babe. You’re a big girl.”

You watched her from the side before speaking, “So, you’re friends with him?”

She hummed, sitting on her bed, “Same circle but we’re not close,” she gasped, “You know, this might actually be a good thing for you!”

You gave her a questioning look, “Elaborate.”

“It’s your senior year. Live a little! I’m sure he could help you with that.” She grins, her eyebrows dancing.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, you continued writing, “I am living! And like I’ve said, just tutoring.” you reiterated.

That was the plan.

So why on earth—so early in the morning, in an empty study lounge—is your back pressed against the door by Nagumo with his tongue down your throat?

You place your hands on his chest as you try to push him away but he’s so much taller and stronger than you. You feel him smile against your lips. This insolent prick.

He leans down to your level with his hands cupping your cheeks. He’s so careful not to strain your neck. His gentleness made you give in, you let yourself melt into him. His kisses were soft and slow, it tasted sweet— chocolate? Oh, those coated biscuit sticks.

He always had those on him. You want some?

No, thank you.

Why not?

Not that you didn’t like it. But for some odd reason, you were hellbent on not having that scent on you— his scent, to be exact.

You have a keen sense of smell and upon meeting Nagumo, it blurred the line between it being a blessing or a curse to you. He always smelled like chocolate: when he walks in and sits across from you, when he opens his bag, when he talks to you—

And also that time when you spaced out and watched him eat the thing slowly, the way it lingered on his lips before he took a bite, the way he licked his lips. But he then smirked and you were flustered that he caught you shamelessly staring.

Now you could taste it. So much for not trying to smell like him.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath. Your eyes flutter as he starts trailing kisses down your neck. His hands running down from your shoulders to your wrists, taking the straps of your backpack along, he drops it to the floor. And when he intertwined his hands with yours, your brain nearly shut down.

“We shouldn’t do this.” you pant.

He chuckles breathily against your skin, “You’re right, we shouldn’t.” he murmured. But he doesn’t stop— biting off the button of your blouse, he takes it from his mouth and puts it in the back pocket of your jeans. He kisses further down your collarbone, leaving moist prints, sighing against your skin.

“I- Ah- I’m serious.” you stammer.

He grins, “Mhm, I bet you are.” he mumbled, before claiming your lips again. He then takes your hands and places them on his shoulders.

He deepens the kiss, pressing his body against yours. You squirm as his tattooed hands travel your back.

You ache for his touch for a split second when you feel his hand leave you.

Click.

He locked the door behind you. After realizing what he’s up to, you pulled away, “Yoichi!” You warn him quietly.

“I didn’t know a kiss could unlock first name privileges.” He teases, tucking hair strands behind your ear, he then twirls his fingers with the ends of your hair.

Just a week ago, you were so adamant on how you should address each other strictly by last name, because according to you: “We’re not friends. I’m just here to tutor you.” He inwardly chuckles at the memory and how he’s looking at you right now, enjoying the view— face flushed, hair out of place, blouse half undone, lipstick ruined. And it was all because of him.

He was intrigued by you from the start, like a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. You didn’t laugh at his antics, didn’t smile at him once, never answered any questions outside tutoring. But at some point, it did annoy him—how much of a stuck-up you are—so much that he made sure his presence shall be known for the next following days.

You kept seeing him with his smug grin and his fuckboy outfits, it made you cringe— in the halls, near your dorms, in the cafes you go regularly to, he was everywhere.

It really didn’t bother you that much, not until he started talking to you outside of tutoring. He didn’t care if you were alone or you’re with your friends, he would come and say hi or say something out-of-pocket so casually that he’d start conversing with your friends too, and they teased you endlessly about it.

But he’s so hot! Are you blind?!

I’ll take him if you don’t want him.

Did you not see the way he was looking at you?

God, you are dense.

And then his friends started approaching you too.

Have you seen Yoichi around?

Hey, you should come to the party tonight. It’d be fun.

Oh, you can’t? That’s too bad.

You see, Nagumo wouldn’t shut up about you.

You have become so annoyingly aware of his existence that the one time he didn’t show up for tutoring, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You couldn’t focus in class. You were subconsciously searching for him in crowds. You passed by places you’ve seen him frequently. You even passed by his frat house despite it not being your route. You even went the extra mile and asked his friends pretending you bumped into them. Your routine was in shambles that day.

Just when you’ve finally talked yourself out of it and had given up— you saw him off-campus, stepping out of a car, with a girl in the driver seat. She was so, so pretty with her turquoise hair and looked so cool smoking a cigarette. She honked at him as he watched her drive off. He then turned around with hands in his pockets, beaming as soon as he locked eyes with you.

Insecurity started creeping in, you panicked and ran off. When you finally reached the dorms, you were relieved that your roommate wasn’t there. You wouldn’t know what to say if she asked why you’re so out of breath like you were fighting for your life. It felt so unlike you, like you were in a state of malfunction. It maddened you to a degree that when he met you for tutoring this morning, he felt it radiating from you.

He was seated across from you, stealing glances your way as you occupied yourself with a book.

“Rough night?” he asked in which you didn’t answer, you didn’t even move a muscle.

To make things less awkward for you, he ripped a piece of paper from his notes and started writing: Are you mad? He gently slid it across the table.

You don’t know what has gotten you but you had an urge to write back: Why would I be mad?

Pleased that you wrote back: Idk, that’s why I’m asking.

I’m not.

He held back a chuckle. You’re not very good at lying.

You glared at him after reading his response. How could you tell? You’re probably good at it.

He snickered a little too loud. Curious about me?

You scoffed quietly and wrote: Definitely not.

He snorted from holding back his laugh— I heard you were looking for me yesterday.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn’t.

He stared at you for a moment too long, amused. He wrote: So my friends were lying?

I didn’t say that. You put down the pen a little too hard.

Liar, liar.

You scoffed quietly, pointing at his work sheets.

But he was persistent— Were you jealous?

You pretended you didn’t see the note. He annoyingly tapped on it, making you roll your eyes— I have no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t care. You wrote with force, visibly getting angry.

He covered his mouth, uncontrollably laughing in silence. He wrote: Lying again LOL

You ignored him again but he didn’t back down— You think she’s pretty?

Without thinking you snapped at him, “No!” Your voice vibrated through the room.

You were both surprised, “I mean yes! I mean—”

A satisfied grin flashed across his face as he witnessed such a reaction from you.

Embarrassed, you rose, stuffing your bag with your belongings.

“It’s not what you think,” he explained, still smiling, leaning forward from his seat.

“I don’t care. I didn’t ask.” You zipped your bag and stomped towards the door.

Just as you were about to reach the exit, he grabbed your arm. You snatched it away, leaving you with the ghost of his touch.

“Does your girlfriend know you like chasing random girls?” You berated him as you fully faced him.

“You’re not a random girl.” His voice low as he moved closer, towering over you.

You stepped back but he was quick to block the doorknob with his hand.

“She’s my sister,” he paused to think, “Adoptive sister, actually. If ever you’re wondering why we look nothing alike.” he says with a faint grin.

Your chin dipped down as you leaned against the door. Embarrassed by the stunt you pulled, you couldn’t look at him.

“It’s okay.” he cooed. So cute, he thought.

You stood unnaturally still after the realization that he’s standing so close to you. You couldn’t even form a witty remark, the proximity was overwhelming. You could feel his breath faintly fanning over you making your face heat up. You were speechless.

Despite your annoyingly unsmiling demeanor, he admired your intelligence and the way you carried yourself. Although he felt like you were light years away from being out of his league, he wanted to try for fun.

But something about the slight flush of your skin, the smell of your shampoo, the sound of your breathing, your chest heaving, the shape of your lips, and how you’re standing directly in front of him, so close he could touch you. He wanted more than just try and more than just fun.

You looked so pretty, so delicate and— “God, you’re so beautiful.” he blurted out.

Your eyes widened by his confession. You didn’t dare to look at him. What the hell is he on?

He swallowed, “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You unintentionally wetted your lips.

“I’ll stop if you say so.” he mumbled.

But he knew full well he wouldn’t be able to stop once you let him.

You finally looked at him—and holy shit—he’s more handsome than you remember. He looked like he could ruin your life and you’d happily let him. Your breath hitched as his face moved closer, dark brown eyes looking at you expectantly.

He uttered your name and it felt like your heart was going to burst by the sweetness of his tone, “Anytime now.” he whispered, lips hovering yours.

“Hm?” He gives you a peck on the cheek, still playing with your hair.

What?

“Right! First names- I-” you stammer, “I was just- uh- I was…testing it out?” You grimace, feeling stupid by your answer.

He tilts his head to the side with a satisfied grin. He looked down to reach for your hands, placing wet gentle kisses on your fingers. You watch him, mouth slightly open. His eyes never leave you.

He lets go of you as he removes his jacket, wrapping you in it. “Sorry for…” he trails off, pointing at his chest to mirror yours, he smirks.

He then hears you laugh for the first time. And oh boy, he was in awe by how it sounded and the way your eyes crinkled, like he was basked under the sun. He needed to see it, dying to hear it again. And he knows it, he knows damn well he’s finished.

You lock eyes with him in silence for a moment too long. He suddenly felt shy around you. You cleared your throat making him avert his gaze. He picks up your bag.

You watch him intertwine his hand with yours, voice laced with mischief, whispering, “You wanna test it out someplace else?”

♡

[zero-heather]

Originally it was HiMERU instead of Hokuto but i remembered his doctor looking scientist card thing and was like "perfect".

Edit: added one

[fierce-little-miana]

The good news is I have finally finished the first draft (with its notes and all) of the next chapter of The Twins (just 6 months late 😱).

I need to re-read it, put it through Grammarly and edit it on Ao3, and I should be able to post it. It should be available this weekend or at the beginning of next week.

Sorry to everyone trying to follow this story (if you are still there), but yeah the good news is there is more coming shortly and it is not abandoned!