#out to the can pleas. maybe i should leave a thank you note. i can make cookies or something

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)

Part 2 here.

Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[buildabot]

I WANT TO DANCE I WANT TO PARTY I WANT TO SWIM IN THE SEA SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING TOWN

[lostfracturess]

symptoms and causes | ch. 11

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem. 

I don't know how. 

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now? 

I knew this was right. 

Right for her. 

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.  

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first. 

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how. 

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him. 

Sorry. 

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense. 

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered. 

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word. 

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care. 

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made. 

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled. 

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill. 

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied. 

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen. 

This was my punishment. 

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want. 

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her. 

How could I not? 

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it? 

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her. 

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age. 

No, she didn't know I'd set it up. 

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me. 

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies. 

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build. 

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating. 

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall. 

My blood roared in my ears. 

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open. 

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now. 

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna. 

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right. 

In his twisted way, he was. 

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard. 

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain. 

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right?  You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair.  It had taken everything in me to push her away. 

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me. 

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you."  Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?" 

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course. 

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?" 

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel. 

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything. 

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything. 

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair. 

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat. 

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five? 

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder. 

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood. 

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak. 

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time? 

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table. 

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many. 

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision.  Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet. 

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall. 

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course. 

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity. 

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg. 

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut. 

I reached for the syringe and read the label. 

Adrenaline. 

Smart girl. 

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers. 

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror. 

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse. 

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it? 

How much power this woman had over me. 

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't. 

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within. 

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. 

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this. 

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish. 

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated. 

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off.  "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full. 

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life. 

Not until her. 

Not until she changed me completely. 

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me? 

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her. 

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before? 

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little. 

Nothing. 

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves? 

Because she does. 

She deserves everything. 

She is everything. 

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life? 

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me. 

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips. 

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for. 

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized. 

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better." 

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything. 

"Say something, Satoru." 

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!" 

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me.  Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger. 

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this. 

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her.  Gods, how I love her. 

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore. 

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.  

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder  of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that. 

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.   

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse. 

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next. 

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment. 

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half. 

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in.  Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting. 

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right? 

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was. 

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course. 

Second-year lecture. 

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her. 

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her. 

But I knew it was wrong. 

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her. 

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang. 

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence. 

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. 

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face. 

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—" 

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know. 

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat. 

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment. 

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off.  "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out. 

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out. 

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me. 

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep. 

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency. 

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself. 

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks. 

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty. 

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it. 

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling. 

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open. 

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder. 

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence. 

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed.  "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out."  I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages.  "You want me to do it?  Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows.  "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk. 

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag.  "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest. 

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares. 

Another night of that shit. 

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault. 

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her. 

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself. 

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good. 

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it? 

It was over. 

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin. 

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch. 

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill. 

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank. 

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination. 

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but  — manageable. 

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed. 

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side. 

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it. 

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it? 

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable. 

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched. 

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips. 

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun. 

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me. 

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion. 

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it." 

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be. 

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional  sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh? 

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything. 

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh? 

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned. 

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head. 

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter? 

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me. 

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut. 

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin.  I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line. 

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips. 

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second. 

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward. 

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole. 

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her. 

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin. 

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body. 

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—" 

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips. 

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine. 

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle. 

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release. 

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips. 

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. 

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm. 

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm. 

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit. 

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath. 

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance. 

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her. 

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release. 

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me. 

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight. 

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious.  "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are. 

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

[nthee]

I DON'T KNOW IF I'MA SEE YOU AGAIN . . .

summary: a slight, or well, not-so-slight blunder led to the unfortunate events of him losing his memory — his memory of you and anything related to you.

characters: riddle roseherts, silver, lilia vanrouge

contains: angst with a bit of fluff, gender-neutral mc (uses second person view aka "you"), the reader blushes (described to be flushed)

notes: title is from see you again hehe :) i just thought it kind of had amnesia trope vibes idkkk dont ask me why atp, inspo comes from anywhere fr. also SURPRISE IM BACK let's ignore the fact that it's been 5 months tho i was so burnt out :(

⌗ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“Let me help you with that. [...] What? You're staring.”

“Ah, it's... it's nothing, sorry.”

The close proximity is enough to make you go insane. Perhaps it's better if you just took the time to actually fix your tie this morning. That way, he wouldn't be so close! So close that...

Oh Seven, what if he hears my heartbeat?! Ack, calm down, calm down! I don't want to scare him of, what if he thinks it's — I'm creepy?!

“You seem flushed, [Name]. Are you alright?” his movement stills while holding onto your tie, and you mentally facepalm.

Riddle's hand makes its way to your forehead, the back of his hand pressing onto your skin, before realizing he's wearing gloves. He clears his throat at the mistake, opting to feel your temperature using the back of his wrist — the exposed skin between his sleeve and glove.

“Temperature is normal... a little bit warm, but nothing serious.”

“I'm alright! It's nothing, really.”

Too close, too close, too close!

Riddle retracts back, almost as if he could hear your pleas. He sighed, clearing his throat as his eyes wander around — look everywhere, anywhere but them, Riddle.

“I should — ah, we should get to class...” you reminded. You mirror his actions, averting your gaze.

“Right. Class.”

He offers an arm, one that you graciously take without a second thought. “Let me escort you there. I did hold you off for several minutes.”

Excuses! Riddle's mind yells. You're falling for them!

He doesn't care in the slightest — just as long as you're there to catch him. Though he knew you for a grand total of five days, he knows you'll be there.

⌗ SILVER

“Have I... met you before? I have, haven't I?”

A bittersweet laugh escapes your lips, startling Silver in front of you. You pull yourself together, smiling as you gaze into his eyes — the same eyes you'd lose yourself in, letting the time pass doing just that.

“Once upon a dream, right? That's what you were going to say?” you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, thankful you laughed first before the waterworks arrived. Thank goodness, he can't see me sad.

Silver's eyes brightened, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. “It's... it's you. I meet you in my dreams! Everytime I close my eyes, I... I see you.”

His hands are softly holding yours as he speaks, his thumb tracing your skin delicately — like you were glass, or a treasure. It's enough to make you swoon, just as he's always done before.

“Don't leave my side.”

He thinks it's selfish to ask that from a stranger. But you are no stranger. You know the truth, but he suspects it's destiny — that you've actually met, talked, danced before, only well, it was in his very own dreamland.

You can feel the tears again. Maybe this isn't so bad? Or, at the very least, this isn't the end.

“I wouldn't even think of it.”

⌗ LILIA VANROUGE

“Are you a friend of Silver's? I don't think I've seen you around before.”

Those words were uttered before you could even process the initial news of Lilia's predicament — before your heart could even let it sink in.

You could only choke back the words threatening to slip off your tongue, lest it sound like utter crap to someone who just lost his memories.

You and I are more than friends. You play— well, played lighthearted tricks on me. I fell for them. I fell for you.

“You... could say that,” was all you could muster up. There was no point in explaining more, he wouldn't understand them.

There was understanding to his nod, a subconscious feeling of something nestled deep in his heart.

“Are you troubled? You seem to be.” his tone is soft, yet firm. Lilia had always been that way; a mentor, father (or, father-like to ones who don't know he was actually one), shoulder to cry on, wise fae to depend on...

A lover. Was a lover.

Now, all was left was Lilia before he even got to know you.

Lilia Vanrouge, a schoolmate of yours, once again.

← | © nthee, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, adapt, and use my work in anything that associates directly with ai.

[kokomyass]

Can I ask a request for genshin characters? Can you do one where the guys find out your a siren or mermaid? Like they know you have a secert but they find out by accident.

Maybe with diluc, wriothesley, kaeya, xaio, or Arlecchino and the children maybe.

Thanks. I love your work alot. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I can't wait for any update you have 🥰

heyy pookie!!! I'm so happy you came back with some characters because I LURVE this request!!

thank you so much for reading my works and im glad you like it!! 🪻💜

i have never written anything like this before and I haven't read it so I hope I interpret it correctly <3

Genshin Headcannons ☆ Genshin characters find out you are a mermaid

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Diluc, Wriothesley, Kaeya

synopsis: in which the genshin boys find out about your little secret...

Notes: you are married to Diluc, you are Neuvillette's daughter in Wriothesley's one and you are a Knight in Kaeya's one 🪻

Diluc

You and your husband, Diluc, were on a leisurely walk around the Dawn Winery.

You hadn't been able to spend much time together since Diluc had been busy with work matters and as much as he wanted to spend some quality time with you one thing or another seemed to prevent that from happening.

On his side, things like business trips, calls and paperwork stopped him from relaxing with you.

However...on your side, the odd secret that you were keeping stopped you from wanting to go out.

Of course, with Diluc being your husband and all, he noticed how odd it was for you to not want to go out at all, but blamed it on the hormones, so when you wanted to go out all of a sudden when you were both free, he didn't think anything of it, other than a chance to spend some romantic and peaceful time together.

"The weather's is so lovely, no?" you say breaking the comfortable silence between you and Diluc.

"Very much so my dear, it's nice to finally be able to go out with you." Diluc looks down at you smiling softly.

You chuckle nervously as you swing your entwined hands back and forth.

"Of course!! Everyone has been so busy recently, huh...."

Diluc looks down at you once again but this time with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes I have been busy, but I thought you had plenty of free time." Diluc had caught you red handed as you sweatdropped.

You didn't know what to say as you flung your arms about trying to remove any suspicions Diluc may have had.

"You see honey, I am busy....but in my own- AGHH!!"

Just as you were about to give some wack ass excuses you weren't paying attention to your footpath (something you said you would DEFINITELY do) and tripped over a rock, falling into the nearby lake.

"Y/N!!! Are you okay?!" Diluc rushed to your aid jumping in the water with no hesitation despite your desperate pleas for him not to.

As he lifted you from the water his face contorted with confusion.

He held your mermaid tail in his hands, with hues of fiery red, each scale reflecting the flickering glow of the underwater sun. It moved with a sinuous grace, leaving trails of crimson in its wake, as if the ocean itself were aflame with passion.

"Diluc....I can explain-"

"Is this why you were hesitant to go out? I don't see why it should be something you want to hide? It is so elegant and beautiful, darling...."

Diluc seemed unfazed by what you thought would be a horrible shock.

"So you aren't mad...or anything?" you mumble looking away embarrassed.

"Of course not although, I'm rather annoyed all this stopped you from wanting to go out with me."

"I'm sorryyyy!!" You wrap your arms around Diluc's neck as he carries you back to the Dawn Winery slowly placing a gentle kiss on your wet forehead.

Wriothesley

"Y/N, I'm going to need you to go down to the Fortress once again."

Neuvillette (your father) often sent you down to the Fortress of Meropide to help out the staff down there- especially Wriothesley, and as much as you LOVED seeing Wriothesley, he knew you hated it because of how damp it was, for MANY reasons.

"But Dad! You know how risky it is....I've been going there so much lately." You wined whilst pouting hoping that was enough to convince Neuvillette to let you stay.

"I thought you loved spending time with the Duke, since you always come back looking all lovesick." Neuvillette smirked as he kept on writing on his documents whilst you got all flustered stomping off to go to the Fortress.

Everytime you went there you looked like you were going scuba diving and although the first few times everyone was caught off guard they seemed to be used to it.

Time Skip

"Hey Wrio! Guess who sent me down here again...." your strolled into the Duke's office casually as he looked up from his work smiling.

"None other than the Iudex, I assume. What did you do to make him hate you so much?" Wriothesley asked crossing his arms raising an eyebrow, not knowing the Iudex is actually your father.

"Eh...who knows...doesn't matter..."

You skipped up the steps and to your dismay, just as you reached the top step you tripped and landed on your face on the damp floor.

Now, in any other circumstances this would've been fine...but you weren't wearing much protective gear because you were in such a hurry, so when you grew a mermaid tail out of nowhere you felt extremely regretful.

"Y/N! Are you oka-" he stopped what he was saying as his jaw hung open.

All you could do was stare into Wriothesley's wide eyes of shock as the longest 5 seconds of your life went by.

Your tail was a delicate shade of light blue, reminiscent of the clearest summer sky reflected in tranquil waters. Quite pretty if you did say so yourself~

"....I can't believe my own crush is seeing me like this..." you mumbled looking to the ground hoping Wriothesley didn't hear.

"Crush? On me?," Wriothesley let out a hearty laugh, "Here I was thinking about asking you out on a date, but hearing that makes my job 10 times easier."

Amidst your embarrassment you felt overjoyed at the fact Wriothesley reciprocated your feelings.

"So...you aren't put off by my mermaid tail?"

Wriothesley shrugged his shoulders, "Why would I be? I've definitely seen worse and it's so glamorous."

You got so flustered at Wriothesley's compliments that you forgot you were on the floor and unable to move.

"Hey Wrio, do you mind helping me off the floor?" you asked sweatdropping.

Wriothesley laughed once again before picking you up bridal style and walking you to a chair. You rested your head on his chest before perking up to look up at him.

"Oh by the way...now would be a good time to say...Neuvillette is my dad."

He stopped in his steps, and looked down at you, "You know, that makes everything much more explicable for some reasons."

You both shared a warm laugh as you wrapped you arms around him giving him a tight hug.

Kaeya

"Y/N and Kaeya, all I need from you two today is to get rid of some treasure hoarders in Windrise....and other than that you are free to go."

"Would you look at that Y/N, it's our lucky day!~" Kaeya chuckled softly guiding you out of the Acting Grand Masters office.

You were both members of the Knight of Favonius, although you were just a normal Knight and Kaeya was the Cavalry Captain.

Even though you were ranked differently you were frequently going on missions together since you were not only romantically compatible but very compatible in battle.

"Treasure Hoarders are the easiest to fight....today will be a breeze, maybe we can go on a cute date afterwards?"

You cling to Kaeya's arm jokingly begging him to go on a date with you. Kaeya pulls out some water to drink as you stiffen hoping he doesn't get it it contact with you so some....bad...things don't happen. You slowly unwind your arms from Kaeya's and hope he doesn't notice this small action.

"Of course sweetheart, I never refuse a date with you." he bends down and places a soft kiss on you nose, walking off humming as you end up having to jog up to him.

Time Skip

You make it to Windrise, and the Treasure Hoarders seem to be dumber than others because you sneak up right behind them and they don't notice.

"Why hello there fellow people, and what do we have here?" The smirk in Kaeya's voice was so evident and the Treasure Hoarders whipped their heads round preparing for a fight.

Unfortunately for them they got taken down by both of you pretty quickly.

You and Kaeya high-five like you always do after a battle.

"That was an easy battle wasn't it?" Kaeya said as you began to walk back.

"It's always easy when it's the two of us." Kaeya smirks. You started laughing and completely unbeknownst to you a baby hydro slime was jumping up to you.

Before you knew it you got hit by the cute baby hydro slime and miraculously your mermaid tail formed. It was swirled with the deep, mysterious allure of navy blue, a bit like that of the midnight sky.

"Y/N!" Kaeya whipped his head as fast as he could losing his laid-back attitude in a second.

However, when he turned to see a baby hydro slime jumping on you with a mermaid tail he couldn't help but let out the most hearty laugh of all.

"Kaeya! Instead of standing there laughing, help me out!!"

Kaeya helped you after 30 seconds of laughing at you suffering.

He held you in his hands as he tried to find somewhere to sit so your tail would wear off. You sat in silence whilst Kaeya got some shut eye.

"...So you aren't shocked or anything?" you asked genuinely confused. You thought he would be flabbergasted.

"Haha! I knew all along sweetheart."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AS USUAL I HAVE NOT PROOF READ AND I WROTE THIS HALF AWAKE. LOVE YALL MWAHHHHH 💜🪻💜🪻💜🪻

[morgana-larkin]

hi, I think I have a crazy and [loooong] prompt baskdjskkaka. From Melissa's line 'no women? nobody else?ever?'

The staff is reminiscing the little bickering a year ago or two about Janine's love life, only then the staff realize what has Mel said, that she's like into women too. Barb knows tho and Mr. J because ofc he knows everything what has happened in those hallways. So Ava, Janine and Jacob being themselves + Greg surprisingly, began to interrogate Mel about it and in some point she got tired of the constant questioning so she just admitted that she had a relationship with a woman before, particularly a teacher too at Abbott few years before the new teaching staff and principal arrived at the said school. She goes to describe the woman with a little smile on her face without realizing it, did not mention what happened saying they should take what she offers about her private life,the truth is, she still feel guilty of what has happened realizing she's wrong and it's too late. At that, she thought the staff will finally leave her alone but no, since she's single again after the failed proposal, they're like encouraging her to date and maybe try again with a woman. Ofc she declines, then one day Ava burst into the break room grinning, saying a new member of the district is around to help the school, but the top of the icing, as she quote, is she had finally found a match for Melissa not knowing who's r really is, then introduces r to the crew. And man, best believe Melissa almost threw herself out of the window when she sees the very woman she had a relationship before and apparently who she had managed to hurt that still haunts her at night, r is no different from the redhead as she is aslo shocked to see the woman, still there and stunning as ever, because last time they saw each other, the woman cursed that she doesn't think she can stay in a place where she knows r had lingered or stepped a foot with. So basically it's the queue for r to left Philly and never go back, but she's God's favorite and he decided to send her back to the very place she avoids the most. [The breakup is ugly, as it is a big misunderstanding, the redhead saw the other woman kissing, or rather being kissed by a man, against her will which she doesn't know since she became real irrational that point and didn't even listen to the plea of the other woman]

And bc of the weird and awkward reactions + interactions from the two women when they're in a room together, the staff slowly put 2 and 2 together that the new district member that has been sent to the school is the very woman who Mel had a past with.

That is so long I'm so sorry, I just need to let it all out or else I'm gonna combust

Anon it’s perfectly alright, let it all out. This took me so much longer to write and it’s just under 5,000 words😅. There’s so much fucking angst and as someone who hates seeing Melissa upset, I was literally glaring at myself for writing that Melissa is going through it. So I hope you enjoy it! As always not edited in the slightest!

As a side note I wanted to thank @janeyseymour for helping me out, I had no idea what former teachers do at all and she let me know a bunch of them!

Want You Back

Warnings: swearing, Melissa crying, smut

Words: 4.95k

“No women? Nobody else? Ever?” Melissa said 2 years ago.

“Wait, what did Melissa mean by that?” Janine asked Gregory and Jacob one day when they were walking into work and talking about the conversation they had in the library a couple years ago.

“I don’t know, but it is weird that her first instinct was to immediately ask about women first instead of men.” Jacob says, contributing to the conversation.

“Do I even want to know what you nerds are talking about?” Ava asked them.

“It’s about Melissa, from something she said 2 years ago.” Gregory said and Ava looked at them.

“Melissa has said a lot of things 2 years ago.” Ava said.

“It’s when we were in the library and I said that I’ve been dating my boyfriend since 8th grade and you all questioned it and Melissa said ‘no women’.” Janine explained to Ava and this caught her interest.

“Oh ya, I remember that. I say we question her.” Ava said but the trio stopped her.

“No, this is Melissa we’re talking about. She won’t tell us something about her life so easily.” Janine says.

“Good point, we could annoy her until she gives in.” Ava suggested.

“Maybe another plan where we don’t put our lives at risk.” Jacob says.

“Oh come on. Melissa likes us too much now to kill us.” Ava says proudly and they all look at her like she hit her head. “I did say now, 2 years ago she definitely would have killed us.”

“That’s true, but we can’t ask her multiple times in one go, it’ll have to be a couple to a few times a day.” Jacob says.

“Ok let’s start now.” Ava says, excited about this plan and heads towards the break room. Ava enters, drawing attention as usual with the trio in tow behind her. “Melissa, question.” Ava asks as she pours some coffee in a mug. Melissa glances up at her from her phone.

“What do you want Coleman?” Melissa asks and looks back to her phone, typing something.

Ava smiles at her as she pours an unnecessary amount of sugar in her coffee. “Have you ever dated a woman?” Ava asks and Melissa freezes.

She looks up from her phone, “what?” She asks.

“Have you ever dated a woman?” Ava repeats. Melissa looks at her and sees the trio looking at her waiting for a reply.

“It’s none of youse business who I have or haven’t dated.” She says and goes back to her phone.

The trio and Ava look at each other and smile a little. They have a feeling that Melissa actually might have dated a woman due to her freezing.

*At lunch*

“So you have dated a woman haven’t you?” Janine asks her at her table.

“I thought I told you this morning it’s none of your business.” She glares at her. Janine gets the hint and goes to her own table.

*after school*

“Melissa, we just want to know if you’ve dated a woman before.” Jacob tells her as they all leave the building together.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” Melissa asks them, annoyed.

“Because you never tell us anything about you.” Janine says.

“Ya we just want to get to know you better.” Gregory says.

Melissa rolls her eyes. “What brought this up all of a sudden?” She asks them.

“Well remember when Janine made us play that annoying game and write something about ourselves on a card and then we guess who it was.” Ava asks, earning a ‘heeeey’ from Janine for calling her game annoying.

“Vaguely.” Melissa says, very short with them right now.

“Well, after Janine said he’s only ever dated one guy since grade 8, your immediate response was ‘no women?’.” Ava says and Melissa looks at them.

Melissa then proceeds to walk to her car. “Like I said , none of youse business.” She says and reaches her car and turns to look at them. “So stop asking.” She says and gets in her car.

*the next morning*

The trio keep glancing over at Melissa. They want to ask but wondering if it’ll be dangerous to ask her.

“I feel you guys looking at me.” Melissa says looking at her phone, unimpressed by them. And at that Ava comes in.

“We just want to know the answer.” Jacob tells her.

Melissa sighs and turns around and glares at them. “Ok fine. Yes, I’ve dated a woman before, last one was a few years ago before youse started working here.” She told them and they all beam.

“Omg this is so exciting!” Janine squeals.

“I can’t believe you never told us you were bisexual.” Jacob says.

“What was she like?” Gregory says, and they all look at him then back to Melissa.

Melissa immediately starts thinking about you and she smiles. “She was a teacher here, she taught 3rd grade and left 4 years before you guys started.” She says pointing to Janine, Jacob and Ava. “She was beautiful and smart and brave. She was funny and sarcastic as well and able to keep up with my wit.” Melissa continues. And they all listen as Melissa describes you. And unknown to Melissa, she was smiling the entire time. The only thing Melissa refused to say was your name and why you broke up.

“Why don’t you want to say her name or why you broke up?” Ava says.

“How about youse people take what I give about my life and shut it.” Melissa says and turns back around to go on her phone. Barb looks at her concerned. Of course she knows what happened since she was there and knows how guilty Melissa feels about how it ended.

“Have you ever thought about dating again, specifically a woman?” Jacob says.

Melissa turns to look at him. “No, I’m not going through it again.” She says with a slight voice crack.

Of course none of them listen to her and keep on the lookout for a woman that’s Melissa’s type. And then one day, Ava does. She bursts into the break room, full grin on her face and immediately looks at Melissa then back to the full group, she thinks she found a match for Melissa. Melissa gets up to get herself a coffee and pours it into her mug.

“Hey nerds listen up! The school district sent us a vice principal to help out around the school and they’re paying for it.”

“Really?” Janine says.

“Yep, oh here she comes.” Ava says “and her name is y/n y/l/n.” She says as you enter.

Before anyone can say anything, the sound of a mug breaking is heard near the coffee machine. They all turn to see Melissa with her hand out, as she just dropped her favourite coffee mug full of coffee and it broke on the floor. She’s standing there looking at the new woman who entered in complete shock, completely unaware that she just dropped her mug. They all look towards you who’s looking at Melissa with an expression that can mirror Melissa’s.

“Melissa, r u ok?” Jacob says, and Melissa glances at him briefly before looking down at the floor.

“Uh, u-um y-ya ya, I’m fine, I’m just gonna let Mr Johnson know about the mess.” Melissa says and books it out of the room. A minute later Mr. Johnson appears and sees you , then shakes his head, muttering ‘this will be interesting’.

They all introduce themselves to you , except for Barb. Once the trio and Ava leave, you look at Barb then at your feet, not knowing what to say to her.

“It’s nice to see you again dear.” Barb says and you look up at her.

“I had no idea that Melissa was still working here. I also didn’t really have a choice, the district sent me saying this school needs a vice principal and I needed a job.” You tell her.

“It’s alright, I understand.” Is all she says.

“I-I’ll avoid Melissa as much as possible while I’m here, to avoid any drama as I’m sure she’ll do with me. So you don’t have to worry about that.” You tell her then leave.

After that Barb leaves the break room and goes to check on Melissa. And sure enough, just like she thought, Melissa is having a full on crisis in her classroom. Melissa is at her desk writing something harshly, then gets angry at her pen for not working properly then throws it across the room.

“You’re handling it better than I thought.” Barb says after she sees Melissa throw the pen. Melissa whips her head at Barb and looks at her with anger in her eyes that quickly turns to tears. Barb immediately goes and comforts her the best she could.

“I can’t believe after all these years, she’s here again.” Melissa says, crying into Barb’s shoulder during a hug.

“I know dear, I know.” Barb says, patting her back.

“I thought I’d never see her again, after 6 years I still feel guilty about what happened.” Melissa says, still crying.

*6 years ago*

You and Melissa were at a club, drinking. Celebrating the end of another school year.

“Hey Amore, can you go get us some more drinks?” Melissa asks you, as she got the previous ones.

“Of course beautiful.” You tell her and give her a quick kiss on the lips with a smile. You then get up and go to the bar to get some drinks. You order a drink for you and Melissa’s favourite drink, then a man comes up next to you as you're waiting, and starts chatting you up.

“Hey there pretty lady.” He says and you glance at him and sigh, you just ignore him.

After your drinks are done, the guy is still trying to talk to you. Before you can reach for your drinks, he gets up and goes behind you and kisses you, blocking any possible exit. The guy is twice your side, you try pushing him off but he wouldn’t budge.

Melissa is wondering what’s taking you so long as it’s been 5 minutes. She gets up and goes to the bar and sees you with a man’s tongue down your throat, pressed up against the bar and Melissa sees red. As soon as the guy gets away from you, you see Melissa standing there about 10 feet away, looking pissed. Melissa stomps over to you, grabs your wrist and drags you out of the club.

“WHAT THE HELL Y/N!!! WHY WERE YOU KISSING HIM!” She yells at you and you’re taken aback.

“Did you think I wanted him to kiss me?” You ask.

“Well it sure as hell didn’t look like you weren’t enjoying it!!!” She yells at you.

“Melissa I didn’t…” You try to explain what happened but she cuts you off.

“I don’t fucking care what lame ass excuse you’re about to give!!! I want you and your shit out of my house and nowhere near me again!!! In fact!! Why don’t you leave the fucking city! I don’t want to see you and your cheating face ever again!!!” She yells at you and then turns around to go to her car. You run up and grab her arm to try and get her to listen to you. She shoves your hand off of her and you try again. “Let go of my y/n!” She tries to shove your hand off of her again but you hold on.

“Please Melissa! Just listen to me!” You tell her with tears in your eyes. “He kissed me! I didn’t…” she doesn’t want to listen to you anymore and pushes you off of her and you stumble and fall back on the ground. You look at her full of hurt and tears. She just turns back around and walks to her car and drives away.

You end up staying at a friend's house for a few weeks. You end up telling the principal of Abbott Elementary that you quit and won’t be coming back, you get all your stuff from Melissa’s house when she told you she won’t be there so you can come pick it up. And after 2 months, you end up finding a place out of Philly and get a job at the school district. You feel hurt and abandoned by Melissa. Your friend told you to forget about her if she wasn’t willing to listen to what happened and fight for you. You left a note at her place, explaining what happened at the bar as she blocked your number after telling you when she won’t be there for a whole weekend to come get your stuff. You left her place with your things, completely heartbroken, you thought Melissa would be it for you but you guess you were wrong

Melissa on the other end wasn’t any better, when she got back from her weekend trip, she saw your note and read it. Full of tears in her eyes as she realised her mistake. She immediately unblocks your number and a bunch of messages you tried to send her appear. She read them all, she wanted to send you a message, saying she got your note and wanted to talk, and then she saw your last message.

You: I know you won’t get this Melissa but I’m really sorry about what happened. I’ll be changing my number today and moving out of Philly soon so you won’t see or hear from me again. Love, y/n.

She saw that the message was sent yesterday, she was too late. She has no idea where you are and no way of contacting you.

*back to present day*

“Melissa, what if this is your chance to fix that mistake?” Barb says. “You told me that if you got a chance to apologise then you would take it.”

“It’s been 6 years Barb, she’s probably moved on and doesn’t care about me anymore.” She tells her. Barb doesn’t push her anymore, knowing she needs time and space right now.

At lunch time, you finish talking to Janine in the break room and go to leave. At the same time Melissa is coming in and you walk into each other. You both stare at each other for a few seconds, not knowing what to do or say. You then walk around her and leave the break room. Melissa stands there for a few more seconds in shock. She then looks over at everyone and they’re staring at her confused about what just happened. Melissa doesn’t say anything, she just gets her lunch and eats in silence.

The second period after lunch, Melissa has a prep period as her kids are in art class. She’s marking some tests when you knock on her door. Melissa doesn’t look up as she’s finishing up marking a question.

“Just a sec.” She says.

“That’s fine, I can wait.” You say and Melissa freezes and looks up. “I’ll just sit in one of the students' chairs. I’m sure they won’t mind.” You say with a chuckle.

Melissa quickly finishes marking the question and then looks up at you. “Hi y/n” she says and you look at her.

“Hi Melissa, long time no see.” You tell her.

“Ya, 6 years.” She says, embarrassed.

“Barb told me what happened with the vending machine guy, sorry about that.” You tell her and she nods.

“Y/n was there something you wanted?” She says.

“I wanted to make sure that me being the vice principal here won’t cause any…conflicts.” You tell her.

Melissa freezes, she’s caught in between, she wants to say yes so that you’ll leave and she won’t have to feel guilty every time she sees you but a bigger part of her wants to say no, she missed you and it was nice seeing your face and smile again. Melissa knows what she has to do, she can’t be selfish but she can be careful.

“No I don’t see why it would.” And you look at her and Melissa feels the need to get it over with. “I mean I moved on and you moved on, the past is the past right?” She says and if she’s honest, it hurt her to say that to you.

You were in a similar spot. It hurt to hear her say that she’s moved on from you but what would you expect. It’s been 6 years and you guys ended badly and you assumed that more than likely she didn’t read your note, probably threw it out.

“Ya, we’ll keep it professional.”

“Ya professional, exactly.” She agreed and you got up.

“Oh I’m supposed to introduce myself to all the teachers and ask if there’s anything they need.” You tell. “I got to know the principal more and while she’s nicer than the one that was here when I was a teacher, this one also doesn’t do anything.” You say and she chuckles.

“Ya I have a feeling you’ll be doing most of the principal duties as well.” She says.

“Yep, more than likely. So was there anything you need? Paper? Glue sticks? Pens?” You ask her.

“No no, I think I’m good for now but I’ll let you know if that changes.” She says and you nod.

“Alright.” You say and go to leave then turn back around. “Btw love the rugs. Am I correct to assume you had something to do with that?”

Melissa smiles and puts her index finger over her lips “shh” she says and you smile and mime zipping your mouth. After you leave , Melissa looks at the doorway and sighs. “What I need is you.” She says quietly.

Over the next month, the trio and Ava slowly start to figure it out. You and Melissa barely are in the same room together, barely speak to each other, and when you do, it’s very awkward and uncomfortable. Then they see Melissa’s face when she sees you, full of guilt and sadness. And when you see Melissa, your face is full of hurt.

“Melissa, how do you know y/n?” Janine asks Melissa after a month of watching the awkwardness.

“She’s the vice principal, so we all know her.” Melissa says to them, the trio not convinced for a second and she doesn’t even believe it herself.

“Come on Melissa, it’s obvious you knew her before she got here.” Jacob says. “I mean you’re interactions with her are awkward and tense. And when she first got here you dropped your favourite mug. I mean the only reason I would act that way is if…’’ Jacob doesn’t finish it as he put it all together and he gasps. “Omg y/n is the woman you dated!” He squeals out and Melissa whips her head around in shock since he figured it out.

“How the hell did you figure it out!” Melissa says and immediately her eyes go wide and covers her mouth with her hand for accidentally confirming what he said.

“So wait he’s right? She’s the one you told us about?” Janine says and Melissa rubs her temple with her hands.

“Ok fine, yes he’s right. Y/n is the woman I dated 6 years ago. But it ended badly and I don’t want to talk about it any further.” Melissa says and then walks out of the break room.

“What’s the matter with Melissa?” Ava says as she enters. “She seems grumpier than usual, I just said hi to her and she told me to go to hell.”

“Y/n is the woman that Melissa dated 6 years ago.” Jacob says and Ava has a shocked expression.

“Omg really?” She says. “Barb, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Ava, it’s not my secret to tell, it’s Melissa and y/n’s.” Barb says to her. “What I will tell you is Melissa feels guilty and is too afraid to apologise and y/n is too busy thinking that Melissa hates her. I’ve been trying to tell each of them to talk to each other but they’re both so stubborn.”

“Maybe we can trap them somewhere together and force them to talk to each other.” Ava suggests and they all agree, including Barb, that it’s not a bad idea.

“Ok but that requires a door that can lock from the outside and you can’t unlock it without a key from the inside.” Gregory says.

“I know just the place.” Mr Johnson says and they all turn to look at him on the other side of the room, not knowing he was there.

“You’re willing to help us with this?” Janine asks him.

“I was rooting for them 6 years ago when y/n was a teacher here.” He says and they look at him. Of course he knew, they honestly are not surprised at this point.

They put their plan into play, the next day during lunch they were gonna lock you two in the janitorial closet and Janine was gonna take Melissa’s kids with hers and go to the gym and then do a big art project in her classroom.

So when Melissa was going to get her kids, Janine asks Melissa if she could help her reach something from the Janitor closet and Mr Johnson went to ask you if you could help him with something in the closet. Melissa was grabbing the item when you walked in and then the door shut. You ran to it and tried to open it but it was locked.

“Did they just lock us in here?” You ask her. Melissa was too stunned to see you that she didn’t even realise what happened until you spoke.

“Ya I think they did.” She said.

“Why would they do that?” You ask her, annoyed.

“Probably for us to talk.” She says and you look at her.

“What is there for us to talk about? There’s absolutely nothing for us to talk about” You say and cross your arms.

“Actually there’s something. ” Melissa says and sits on one of the chairs that’s in there, while you sit on the other.

“What is it then?” You ask her and she takes a deep breath.

“6 years ago.” Is all she says but you understood.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about. You said it yourself, it’s in the past and we’ve both moved on.” You said and you look at her and she looks hurt. “What?”

“Have you really moved on?” She asked and you look at her.

“It doesn't matter, I know you moved on though. ”

“Ya a failed proposal is definitely not moving on.” she says.

“But you were in a serious enough relationship with him for him to propose.” You tell her and she looks down.

“Ya I guess so.” She gets her phone out to text Barb to come let them out and gets a reply back.

Barb: not until you talk to her.

Melissa: no, it’s too painful, please let us out.

Barb: I’m sorry Melissa but I know this was hurting you. Seeing her everyday is hurting you.

“They’re not gonna let us out anytime soon are they?” You ask her.

“I don’t think so.” She says and then looks at you. “I’m sorry.” She says.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t lock us in here.” You say, totally missing what she was apologising for.

“That’s not what I’m apologising for.” She says and you look at her.

“Then what are you apologising for?”

“For 6 years ago, making a big mistake.”

“Wha-”

“I read your note.” She says, cutting you off. “I should have listened to you but I was just so angry that I couldn’t think.” She tells you and looks at you with guilt. “The real reason I said no to Gary is because I didn’t want to be with him because I still have feelings for you. And I felt so guilty about how I reacted and I unblocked your number when I got home after reading your note and read all the texts and I wanted to find you or contact you but I had no way of doing that.” And a few tears slip down her cheeks.

“I haven’t moved on, you know. I’ve forgiven you for that night but I haven’t gotten over you.” You say and Melissa is looking at you with wide puffy eyes. “I tried, I ended up living with a girlfriend for a year. But then she broke up with me when she wanted more and I didn’t. Said I was emotionally unavailable. Which I guess is true, you can’t develop big feelings for someone if your heart belongs to someone else.” You said and the look on Melissa’s face said it all.

“Who does your heart belong too?”

“You.” Melissa sucked in a breath. “When I saw you standing there in the break room after 6 years, I couldn’t believe it, and you still look beautiful and stunning.” She let out an airy laugh.

“You as well, you still look so damn beautiful. My heart belongs to you too.” Melissa then gets up and walks over to you and crouches next to you and holds your hand and you look down at her. “I want to be with you again, if you’ll have me.” She says and you tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and smile at her.

“Of course, I want to be with you again too.” You said and Melissa beams. Then she gets up and leans in and kisses you. After 6 years Melissa finally felt back home again, like her lips are supposed to be on yours and no one else’s. You pull back after needing to breathe and you look at Melissa who’s smiling at you.

“You know I don’t think they’ll let us out until it’s the end of the day. So we still got… 2 and a half hours.” Melissa says, looking at her phone. You then get up and make her walk backwards and get her to sit on her chair and then straddle her lap.

“I think I want to know how to spend that time.” You tell her with a smile then go to kiss her again.

Melissa kisses you back passionately with her hands in your hair and yours are on her hips. Melissa’s hands travel down your body and land on your chest. She then puts her hands under your shirt and cups your boobs and you moan into the kiss. She then moves her lips down to your neck and starts sucking on it and you gasp before placing your mouth on her shoulder to muffle your sounds. Melissa giggles at your actions before unclipping your bra and lifts your shirt so she can put her lips around your nipples. You try to move your body so you can grind her leg but Melissa keeps you where you are and you whine.

“Patience, I don’t want to waste you on my leg.” She tells you and flips you both so you’re the one on the chair and removes your pants and underwear. She then immediately dives down and licks your pussy and you cover your mouth with your arm to muffle your moan. Melissa then puts her tongue in your entrance and begins tongue fucking you and you bite down on your arm as it feels so good.

Melissa tastes you again after years and thinks of how you still taste so good. She moans and it vibrates on your entrance and you gasp. She moves her tongue out of your entrance and goes for your clit and sucks on it. You’re moaning into your arm like crazy right now as Melissa is fucking magical with her tongue.

Melissa looks at you trying your best to muffle your sounds and gets up and kisses you. While kissing you, she slips a finger into your entrance and a thumb to your clit and you clutch her hair. She slips another finger in and pushes them in and out of you quickly while rubbing your clit. It doesn’t take long until you’re shaking and Melissa knows you’re about to come.

“Go on Tesoro, come for me.” Melissa whispers into your ear and then goes right back to kissing you just in time for you to come. “As soon as they let us out of this closet, I’m taking you to my place. I’ll cook us something and then it’s to my bed. How does that sound?” Melissa asks you after removing her fingers out of you.

“I like the sound of that.” You tell her, trying to catch your breath. “I honestly miss your cooking, and your body.” You say and she smiles as she kisses you again. She helps you get dressed after kissing you and then she sits down on the floor with you curled up on her.

And that’s how the Abbott crew finds them after they go to unlock the door after the students leave. They unlock it and see you on Melissa with her hands wrapped protectively around you and they all have their mouths open in shock.

“Oh finally.” Melissa says and you get off of her and help her up. “Come on.” She tells you and grabs your hand and begins sprinting out of there and you’re both giggling.

“Was that a hickey on y/n’s neck?” Janine says and they all look at her then back at you two running out of the building.

And when the two of you get to her place, Melissa keeps her word of making a meal then spending the rest of the evening in her bed.

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 1,000 FOLLOWERS! That's absolutely wonderful! You deserve it.

1.) T. "I see you. I know you're watching me." // 2.) 🕶 Mafia AU // 3.) Writer's choice! Go wherever the muse takes you. // 4.) 📚 Book

Thank you so much! ❤️ Hitman Eddie and mob baby Steve are rapidly taking over my brain, so here's some more of them!

Poisoned honey

Rated: M

Words: 995

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Blood and violence; Obsessive behavior; stalking; flirting; sexual tension

Notes: Part 1 | Part 2

The boss is in one of his moods. 

Eddie endures the screaming with a stoic face - or as stoic as one can manage with a split lip and one eye swelling shut - and thinks to himself what a fucking joke it is. If anyone has a right to be mad, it's him. 

The intel he got on the job was all wrong. The target arrived with backup, turning what was supposed to be a quick, clean affair into a bloodbath. Eddie still finished the job, of course. But the goods he was supposed to secure got destroyed in the fight, losing the boss a ton of money. Hence the yelling. And the name-calling. And the throwing things. 

Eddie sidesteps the whisky tumbler that's hurled his way. It hits the wall, but he can feel the shards catch in his hair as it shatters into a million pieces. Jesus Christ. On days like this, he almost regrets getting into this. 

Almost. 

It's not easy, working his way into Richard Harrington’s inner circle. In the beginning, the asshole wasn't even aware Eddie existed. And even now that Eddie has his attention, he's still far from gaining his trust. 

Eddie gets it, though. You don't become a mob boss by blindly trusting anyone. 

And so Eddie has been biding his time, slowly weaseling his way into the group of Harrington's most loyal hitmen. The better part of a year passed before the boss even deemed him worthy of entering his office, but that’s okay. Every job brings him a little closer to his goal, and every time he sets foot into Harrington's villa is another occasion to catch a glimpse of the prize he's got his eyes on.

*

It's getting dark by the time he's dismissed. He should go home to lick his wounds, but the patio doors are open, and the rippling light and the scent of the hydrangea bushes lure him in. The night is warm, and with a bit of luck, his little nymph will be out by the water. 

He's in one of the lounge chairs, hair wet and tousled, body draped into a robe against the breeze. The underwater lights illuminate his features. He has a book in his lap, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. Eddie stays in his hiding spot for a long while, watching graceful fingers leaf through the pages, watching pink lips part around inaudible words, and gets lost in his favorite fantasies. 

Biting and sucking at those lips until they're plump and shiny, drawing the most beautiful pleas and moans from them. Maybe he'd leave those hands free, or maybe he'd tie them up, just to watch his little nymph struggle. Just to feel him squirm while Eddie covers that soft, tan skin in marks, leaving the traces of his ownership for everyone to behold. 

“I see you. I know you're watching me.” 

Eddie is so far gone in his own head, it takes him a moment to process that the words were directed at him. It takes even longer for him to realize who the voice belongs to. 

The boy has marked his page and is looking straight at his hiding spot, lips curled into a smile.

“Why don't you come out and introduce yourself? It would only be polite.” 

Soft hair falls into hazel eyes as the boy cocks his head. He looks so sweet, but Eddie knows that looks can be deceiving. He sees the coy glint in those eyes, sees the sharp edge to that smile. Knows that this is his last chance. He can turn away and save himself, or he can follow his little nymph's call and let himself be pulled into the depths. 

Those eyes sparkle with satisfaction as he steps out of his hiding spot. Not waiting for an invitation, Eddie sinks down into the empty deck chair beside the boy's, lighting a cigarette and taking a pull. 

“Eddie Munson,” he drawls and extends his right hand. “My pleasure.” 

The boy quirks an eyebrow before reaching out - only instead of accepting the handshake, he snatches the cigarette from Eddie’s lips. His fingers brush the cut and it burns like gasoline. 

“Steve. You know my last name, obviously.” Those perfect lips part to exhale a plume of smoke, hazel eyes assessing every inch of  Eddie’s appearance. “What happened to your face?” 

“Work accident,” Eddie shrugs. “Fell down some stairs.” 

Steve huffs a laugh, a curt and cruel thing. “Yeah, right. You think I'm stupid? I know you’re one of my father’s dogs.” 

Eddie feels his temper flare, snide reply already at the tip of his tongue. How he’s not a dog, doesn’t answer to any master. 

Except, that isn’t true, is it? 

He’d happily kill for this boy, would beg and crawl and debase himself. Has been doing exactly that, every day, for almost a year. 

Steve smiles, sweet like poisoned honey, and takes another lazy drag of the stolen cigarette. 

“You guys are all the same, huh? You think you’re so tough, so dangerous, but as soon as my dad tugs on your leash, you slink off with your tail between your legs. Pathetic.” 

Eddie is nothing if not fast. With one quick movement, he has snatched the boy's wrist and pulled the cigarette back to his own mouth. He takes a long drag, pressing his lips against the soft skin of those fingers. When he pulls away, he makes sure to graze his teeth over Steve’s knuckles. Those hazel eyes are huge, pupils deep and fuzzy, as they watch him stand. 

“You like leashes, little nymph? Good. Hold on to that thought.” 

Nothing has ever been harder than turning his back and walking away, but somehow he does it. Eddie prides himself in being good at his job, and much like his job, this is all about playing his cards right. 

He intends to win, in the end. 

He always does. 

Part 4

More celebration ficlets

[fuwushiguro]

I Can Be The Eye Of The Storm

chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: thank u everyone who sent love about this series it’s been fun to get back into it! hope this chapter was worth the wait hehe 💕 Warnings: 18+, rape/noncon, major character death, false imprisonment, violence, attempted murder, blood mention, misogyny. Words: 4.4k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

“Toji please!” you cry, pounding against the door. “PLEASE!”

You keep hammering at the wood, you assume it will break if you carry on. But in truth you know you’re the one who’s going to break. You’re exhausted, you’re hurt, you haven’t fully processed everything that’s happened. And now the man who said he loves you is keeping you locked up in a room in the same building as your attacker.

And still, you can’t stop.

No matter how much your arms ache. Despite your voice becoming hoarse and your legs wanting to give out from under you.

You don’t stop.

“She needs a muzzle.” Gojo smirks, flipping through a deck of cards as he sits comfortably on a couch in the living room. The spot you’d been sitting in eating hashbrowns hours earlier without a care in the world.

Toji gawps at him. A little dumbfounded by his sheer audacity.

“What’s wrong, big man?” he asks as he starts to organise the cards. “Didn’t realise she was such a handful? I knew she was trouble from the second I saw her.”

And now, Toji has had enough. He hadn’t been able to sit down, instead pacing around as he heard your pleas and cries of his name. This is so fucked, but he couldn’t think of another way. But hearing what Satoru has to say is making his blood boil, and he’s no better than a caveman despite wanting to be.

“Shut the fuck up!” he lashes out, he approaches Gojo so quickly he’s barely registered their close proximity. He just looks up, and Toji is towering before him. And another second later, the cards are flying out of his hands as Toji begins to throw punches. “You raped my fucking girlfriend and you’re wondering why she’s screaming. Are you fucking kidding me?!” he yells.

“That’s enough.” Nanami breaks them up.

“Easy…” Gojo replies, his face bloody with a busted lip as he tries to regain his composure. “You sound like a pathetic old man, girlfriend? Please, you’re twice her age. It’s embarrassing.”

“I love her. I let you hurt her.” he rakes his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t invite you here for this.”

“So… why did you invite us?” Gojo stands up now, levelling his stare with Toji’s. “You said she’s slutty, and you’re willing to share. I took advantage of what you said and fucked her.”

“Not like this.” Toji responds immediately. “You did take fucking advantage. And you’re not even sorry. You’re not even fucking sorry about what you’ve done to that poor girl.” he argues. He begins to pant out of frustration. Nanami can do nothing but watch the two men argue. Gojo runs his tongue along his top row of teeth before deciding to speak again.

“Either way, we can’t leave her locked in there forever.” Gojo reminds him.

“I should let her call the police. I cannot fucking believe you’ve done this you stupid fuck.” Toji carries on with his barrage of insults. His gaze keeps flitting between the men he’s with and the stairs to the bedroom you’re locked in. “I don’t think a little bit of coke is going to matter to the police when there are bigger things to focus on.”

“You’re not calling the police.” Nanami speaks.

“Right, you’re not going to call them. Because you know it’ll blow all of our shit up and it’ll fuck yours up the most. So shut the fuck up, sit down and shuffle the cards. We can think about what to do in the morning.” Gojo orders him.

“I’m not fuckin’ playing.” Toji tells him. He retreats to the kitchen and grabs himself a beer, cracking off the top with his teeth. He’s only just realised his knuckles are bleeding and his hands are shaking. He puts down his beer and holds his head in his hands, his head pounding with the gravity of the situation.

Nanami picks up the cards that Gojo had dropped and begins to shuffle again. He hands them all out between to two of them, thinking snap is probably the easiest and low effort game to play.

“How can you sit there and play cards knowing what you’ve done?” Toji asks, emerald eyes vibrating as he stares over to Gojo.

“Just having fun, Toji.” he smirks again, “Just a little fun.”

A few hours pass and you know Toji isn’t coming. He’s hiding from you, he’s ashamed. Not that you know that, though. To you, he’s having fun with his friends and laughing at your expense.

You gave up kicking and punching the door a while ago. Now, you’re crumpled in a heap on the bedroom floor. Is this all you can do? Give up and accept this is it for you? That Toji might keep you locked up in this place until you agree to their terms? They can’t… they can’t make you.

And then a harrowing thought crosses your mind.

No one knows you’re here.

One of them alone could easily shut you up for good.

And there are three of them.

“To—” you stop yourself before his name becomes louder than a whisper. He doesn’t care about you. He isn’t going to help you. It’s all about self-preservation, for him. Toji is too scared of facing prison to help you out of this mess.

It’s got to be you.

You pull yourself to your feet using the bed frame, your legs are still shaky, but you know you’ll have to find your nerve soon. There’s no one coming to save you, nobody is going to undo the damage that has been done. If those three are all about self-preservation, you have to be to.

But nothing is catching your eye. There isn’t a single thing you can use to your advantage. You think about battering the door down using the armchair in the corner of the room, but you can’t imagine you have enough strength to keep repeatedly hammering away at it.

You instinctively reach for your phone, forgetting Toji had taken it from you.

“Fuck.” you mutter and begin to pace around the room. All you can think about is Nobara. What would she do in this situation? But that question immediately vanishes when you remember she wouldn’t be stupid enough to get herself into this mess. She didn’t trust Toji from the get-go and you shouldn’t have either. Tears begin to well in your eyes and spill over as you realise your momentary injection of heroism has been snuffed out. You’re stuck here like the useless idiot you are.

Your breath hitches as you look at the windows in the room. The same windows Gojo attacked you against. Your heart race quickens as you replay it in your mind. You can’t help but feel sick. It’s as though you can physically feel the weight of a bowling ball in your stomach as you relive the incident that occurred hours ago and think about the only thing people will see you as if you manage to escape.

A victim.

You place your hands against the window, and then your forehead, closing your eyes and beginning to sob violently. What had you done to deserve this? You know you’re stupid. You’re gullible and a fool and you’re just so fucking useless. But is that really a crime that deserves such a severe punishment? Is being a failure truly worthy of what Satoru Gojo had done to you?

As your eyes slowly begin to flutter open, you notice the pool illuminating your skin as it had with Gojo in his room earlier. It’s dark outside now, the cyan water even more bold than it was this morning. It looks so inviting…

It looks so… warm.

“Snap, I win.”

“You’ve gotta be cheating, Kento. You’re killing me.” Gojo laughs.

Toji is still leaning over the breakfast bar as he watches them both play their tedious little game of snap. He’s thinking about going to see you now. Checking on you, seeing where your head is at. He thinks maybe if he grovels, you two might be able to work something out. He’s drunk, he’s coked up, everyone is coked up. But surely there is some arrangement you can come to so that he can make things right without involving the police.

“I’m gonna head up.” Toji announces, shoving his fifth bottle of beer to the edge of the counter. “I need to check on her… try and do some damage contro—”

The three men pause, almost frozen in time as they look at one another to confirm they all heard that. Did they all really hear the sound of glass shattering from upstairs? They can’t move. None of them can bring themselves to snap out of their daze and move. What the hell was that?

And then, the sound of the crashing glass is followed by the familiar sound of water splashing. Toji finally manages to move himself, standing with Nanami and Gojo as they rise to their feet and stare at the bubbling blue water they can see out of the window.

Nobody says a word. They just stare and continue to stare.

Suddenly, you rise. The water is wiped from your eyes, and you see all of their eyes fixed on you. You too, are frozen. All you can do is kick your legs to keep you afloat. You know that your fear of them chasing you will be realised as soon as you make a break for it.

But you can’t stay here.

You swim as fast as you can to the edge of the pool, and your prediction comes true. As soon as you start swimming, they’re running for the front door. They’re scared, they’re panicking, this turn of events hadn’t even been in the equation for them.

Before they can unlock the front door, you’re already out of the pool and sprinting in the wrong direction. You’ve become disorientated but you know that you can’t double back on yourself, you’ll only fall into one of their arms and end up locked in a room without a method of escape. You have one chance to get away, and this is it.

Despite running through the wilderness in your underwear, you’d been smart enough to put on a pair of trainers and a jacket. You’d have covered yourself more, but you thought the water would weigh you down and give them more of a chance to catch you. That’s not a chance you can take.

“Princess!” you hear Toji bellow in the distance. There’s a gap between you for now, but you know it won’t be long before they close the distance. You don’t think hiding is an option, you have to keep running.

You run.

You fucking run until you feel your lungs empty.

You run until your legs are cut to shreds by the brambles and thorns through the trees.

You run… until you can’t.

You’re staring over the edge of a cliff; another step would mean certain death and your stomach plummets at the thought of accidentally falling over. Looking left and right does little good as you know you’ll ultimately be met with the same fate no matter which way you go. The snow begins to nip at your skin. The adrenaline is wearing off and you’re starting to feel hopeless once more.

As you take a deep breath and contemplate your next move, you feel a strong grip on your wrist.

“Caught ya.” Gojo smiles, menacingly. You let out a scream and try to yank your arm from him, but it does no good. Toji and Nanami aren’t around, they must have split up to search for you. It’s just you and Satoru. And your legs begin to give out under you once again. “Squeezing your thighs f’me, hm? That excited to see me again?”

“L-Let go.” you try to sound confident, but your stuttering earns a pitiful laugh. This is the worst-case scenario. You can barely process what he did to you let alone what is about to happen. And Toji, once again, isn’t here to stop him.

“You’re no victim, look at you. Even now you’re running around in your underwear like a slut. Do you love the attention that much? You know anyone could be out here, waiting to fuck you. But that’s exciting to you, right? I get it, being desirable is the greatest feeling in the world. That’s why I couldn’t keep my hands off ya.”

“You raped me.” you say, your voice refusing to falter. “You know what you did, and you have to live with that until the day you die.”

“It doesn’t bother me, sweetheart. I wanted something and I got it, that’s how I am. It’s my right. And you were begging for me to fuck you.”

“No—”

“Yes.” he interjects. “Girls like you are good for one thing, and you know it. You’re just a cunt to be fucked. You’re barely a person. You’re a hole to be filled and make men feel good about themselves. You don’t think Toji loved you, do you? He loved having a pretty young thing wrapped around him and being able to brag about it. You’re nothing.”

“I— I’m…” you don’t know what to say. Partly because you think he might be right. You’ve always known it was ridiculous for Toji to be saying he loved you after barely knowing each other. It was some Disney romance you’d built up in your head to be more than it was. It wasn’t and isn’t love. It’s just lust.

You’re nothing.

You’re nothing.

“At least I’m not a rapist.” you tell him, your eyes focusing on his as you refuse to back down. “I’ve never had to have sex by force. I have loved and been loved. You just hurt people.” he grunts, forcing you closer to the edge of the mountain. It makes you smile, laugh, even. Knowing that you’re getting under his skin.

“You should be careful how you speak to people when you’re in such precarious situations.” he warns you. It’s a threat, and you see the gleam in his eye which tells you he isn’t afraid to follow through.

“I don’t give a fuck.” you smile. “You can’t do anything worse to me than you already have.”

“Wanna bet?”

“If I die, if you murder me, I promise… I’m going to haunt you until the end of time.” you start. “Whether I’m the first, only, or last of the people you’ve hurt like this. I will fucking haunt you until you lose your mind. I’ll always be with you, like your own personal stalker. And I won’t stop until you get what’s coming to you.” you speak with so much conviction, you hear a shallow and panicked grunt settle in his throat. He finds his steel once more, looking at you with disdain before allowing himself to smile.

“Go ahead and try,” he pushes you away from him. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” and with a final kick to your abdomen, a harrowing, involuntary scream tells you both that you’re not long for the world.

The air bites at your skin as you fall. He watches in horror as he realises what he’s done. What he has actually done. He’s killed you. Your eyes lock as you continue to fall. There’s no reading either of your expressions. Though he imagines you’re in shock, he is too, after all. He can’t turn away until he hears a thud, a disgusted gasp leaving him before he turns to look again. The white snow around you has been stained red, and your eyes are staring daggers up at him.

“Shit.” he speaks, pacing around as he tries to contemplate what to do.

For the first time in his life, he thinks he might actually be experiencing regret. His knees buckle, just as yours had after he assaulted you. His eyes fill with tears as he crawls on his hands and knees to peer over the edge and see your lifeless body staring back at him. He covers his mouth with a hand as he tries to keep it together.

You’d spoken with so much conviction and certainty. And now Satoru Gojo is experiencing… remorse? For the first time in his fucking life. Could you have been right about haunting him? Is this your doing?

“Have you found her?” Nanami asks, emerging from behind.

“Her footprints disappeared, she’s smarter than we’ve given her credit for.” Toji announces.

They both look confused as Gojo can’t pull himself away from the edge of the cliff. All they see is a pathetic, snivelling man on all fours. A sight neither of them had ever expected to see before. Toji’s brows furrow, and Nanami’s eyes widen as he realises what’s going on in record time.

“Try to stay calm.” he puts his arm across Toji’s chest, doing what he can to calm the situation before things get out of hand. But Toji is confused, he doesn’t understand why Nanami said something so random. He is calm. But they need to find you before things escalate even further.

It finally hits Toji when Gojo turns to look at them. Cheeks sparkling with tears in the winter moonlight.

“I f-found her like this.” he lies, effortlessly.

“No, no no…” Toji panics and hurries to look over the edge with Gojo. “FUCK!” he bellows as he witnesses the same sight Gojo had been staring at for quite some time. Nanami joins the two of them, standing on the other side of Toji as all three men look down at you with nothing but contempt.

“It’s regrettable, but I doubt anyone will find her out here. It seems we’re in the clear.” Nanami tells them, cool and collected as always.

Toji can’t stop himself from crying, his lip quivering as he stares down at you. He can’t feel the sting of the freezing wind and nothing else is happening between him and the woman he genuinely fell in love with, in a bloody puddle beneath him.

“I didn’t do it…” Gojo sniffles. It’s the only thing that can break Toji out of his trance as he starts to see red other than the blood surrounding your body.

“Is that what you think?” he mutters, his lips in a tight line as he feels more tears spill over and down his cheeks as he carries on staring at you. “You think you didn’t cause this?”

“She must have slipped while she was running.” Gojo lies, again, it comes too easy to him and Toji can see right through his crocodile tears. He kicks him to the ground so he’s flat on his back, and he can’t stop himself from delivering a multitude of brutal, heavy-handed punches directly into his face.

“You think this isn’t your fucking fault?!” he yells as he continues. He warns Nanami to back off when he tries to separate them again. “I should fucking kill you, you think she’d be running for her life out here if not for you? You think she’d be dead if you hadn’t—” he can’t even say it, covering his sorrow with more anger as he beats Gojo to a bloody pulp.

“You made your point.” Nanami interjects, consequences be damned. “The last thing we need is another dead body out here. We need to get back and figure out what we’re going to do about this.” he speaks, managing to tear Toji away from Gojo.

“Fuck sake, fine.” Toji grunts, walking ahead of them both. Nanami helps Gojo to his feet and helps him walk back to the house.

You’re so still. So statuesque as their voices fade from being clear to quiet mumbles. And then finally to nothing. But you don’t move, you just continue to lie still, soon to be a memory to all who knew you.

The atmosphere in the cabin is damn near disgusting. Nobody has spoken a word in hours, and the black sky is starting to fade. Toji can’t tear his gaze from the crackling fire while Gojo continuously dabs tissue on his gushing wounds and bleeding nose.

“I fucking loved her.” Toji grimaces, not sure if he’s talking to himself or letting Gojo know what he’s taken from him. “I don’t really give a shit what you thought of her or us… I know how I feel, and I loved her.” he finishes, wiping a lone tear from his eye as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that he brought you here and you’ve been murdered for it.

“Please try not to kill each other.” Nanami orders the two of them as he takes his cup of coffee and a cigarette outside. The two men watch him go before their eyes return to the aggressive flames in the fireplace.

“Sure you did.”

“Don’t push me, Satoru, or I’m gonna turn your face inside out.” he warns him.

“Whatever. It’s done now, she’s gone. What’s happened, has happened. We need to think about what we do next.” he tries to reason with him. “We’re going to have to pretend everything is fine and normal. We’re going to have to make sure nobody knows this ever happened.”

“I’ve got her phone so I can cover things for a while… and her car keys are—” he thinks for a moment as he tries to recall the last place he saw them. He checks inside the bowl at the entrance only to discover they’re not there. “They must be in our room.” he runs upstairs to check. The reality of how much covering up they’re going to have to do hits him as he sees your luggage littered around the room. But he tries to focus on searching for the keys. “Shit.” he speaks quietly as it dawns on him that you’ve taken them. He leaves the room, spotting Gojo at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well?”

“She must have taken them.” he alerts him. “She must have been planning on going for the car but ran the wrong way.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. We’ve got to burn her stuff and figure out a way to dump the fucking car.” Toji speaks, visibly getting agitated again. “You’ve fucked us.” he yells at Gojo.

“This is not my fault! It was you who—”

Again.

Another splash in the pool.

You watch on in horror as Nanami’s lifeless body falls into the pool. That beautiful aqua colour becoming stained with red. But you don’t have time to watch this. You don’t have time to stand around and watch a dead man drown. You drop the heavy log you found on your way back to the cabin, the edge stained with Nanami’s blood. You knew it would kill him. You knew you’d become a murderer the second you picked it up no matter who you struck with it. He hadn’t bothered to save you when he could have. He decided to be ignorant, and he had no qualms in leaving you for dead back there.

Why would you grant him anything but the same?

You flee before you can be spotted, getting your car keys from your pocket, and hurrying inside. Once Gojo and Toji see Nanami’s body gushing blood in the pool, they know what’s happening. As they rush outside, they both spot you behind the wheel of your car, headlights beaming as you prepare to pull away. Toji rushes over to slam on the hood, begging you to get out so you can talk. You shake your head, barely able to look at him. Your eyes are more focused on Satoru Gojo.

He’s horrified.

You’d think he’d just seen an honest to God ghost before his very eyes.

And you will fucking haunt him.

You flip them both off before reversing as fast as you can and driving away.

Toji drops to his knees, he thinks he might be having a panic attack. He has emotional whiplash from everything that’s just unfolded. He was convinced you were dead, everybody was. And now… Nanami is gone.

“This isn’t over. She’s not going to let this go.” Toji practically heaves as he explains through panicked breaths.

“She’s really going to haunt me.”

“Yeah, we need to count our fucking days.” Toji continues. “You’ve fucked us.”

“I’m sorry.” Gojo answers.

“What good is sorry now, Gojo? We’re dead men walking.”

You drove, you don’t know how long for. So long that you thought you might crash if you had to keep your eyes open any longer. For some reason, you thought you’d been driving home. To the safety of your father and brothers. The security of your home and the money your father would ultimately use to guarantee justice for what you’ve been through and shield you from you suffering the consequences of what you did to Nanami.

But you’re not home. You’re parking at a house that you recognise, though. Your legs are moving on auto pilot as you get out of the car, not even bothering to close the door behind you as you approach the front door.

You don’t even know what time it is, so you can’t find it in you to care as you press the doorbell and begin to pound on the door repeatedly. There’s not a word you can say, not a single thing to speak of as you continue what you’re doing and wait for somebody to answer.

“I’m coming! Do you know what time it is?” you hear from inside as the stairs creak beneath their feet. “What is it?” she asks as the door opens.

“Nobara…” you manage to speak, your voice absolutely shredded to pieces. “Do you have a cigarette?” you ask before collapsing into her arms.

“Oh my God… Oh fuck, hey, hey hey. Don’t die on me!” she begins to cry as she tries to lower you carefully to the ground and hold you in her arms. “Maki! MAKI! CALL AN AMBULANCE!” she screams before turning to look at you again. Your eyes begin to flutter, and you can’t keep them open anymore.

“I love you…” you whisper, before fully closing them.

“Please don’t die!” she sobs, cradling your body close to hers. “I love you too, dummy. Hear me? I love you so much… so please don’t die.”

© 2023 fuwushiguro

[annie-creates]

Ray of sunshine

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: angst

Words: 1600

Note: This is a second part to Try to come home but you'll be fine reading it as a oneshot too. Do not ask me for another part, cause I'll most probably kill someone. You've been warned. I want everyone to imagine a good or bad ending to this as they please. Thank you for the request, it looks like I enjoy writing screaming people.

You used to be a fantastic, fun, bubbly person. Most people would describe you as a ray of sunshine, your wife included. But every sun can be shadowed by the stormy clouds, and that’s exactly what your wife was. One would say your exact opposite. You used to think that’s why you two worked so well together, clicking like a puzzle. But lately what felt like a spring rain full of life became a dreadful storm leaving nothing but disaster behind. A tornado with awful consequences. You knew what you signed up for marrying the literal dean of evil, but you never imagined it would get so hard. You’d think after having two kids together you would both compromise to keep things going, but no. You were the only one who had to make sacrifices all the time and you were getting tired and sick of it. She wouldn’t take a time off at work to help you around the house with chores you couldn’t do yourself anymore being heavily pregnant. She wouldn’t come home a few hours earlier to help you prepare for your third child. Everything you asked for was met with a string of excuses. You felt like a single parent with her late home coming and even no shows.

“Hello.” Your wife exclaimed unenthusiastically once she arrived home, too late to be counted as a reasonable hour again.

“Hi.” Your voice lacked the usual cheer, but she didn’t wanna push you by asking. She knew you were already on a thin ice with or your arguments lately and frankly, she was exhausted herself not wanting another fight.

“Well, do you want to know how my day was?” she asked unsure, looking for dinner around the kitchen since you made no move to serve it to her. Seems like she’s her own cook tonight.

“I wanna say something, and I don’t want you to fight me on this.” You were finally ready to admit to yourself that you can’t do this anymore. “I can’t handle all this, not now. I want a break. I fucking deserve one.” You chuckled dryly.

“Um… what?” dinner long forgotten Leonora didn’t understand where you’re going with this and it scared her.

“I want to go to my parents in Auradon. For some time. You’re never home and I can’t take care of this place all alone now. Hell sometimes I have to sit on the floor for hours because I fall and can’t get myself up. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and none of this is any good for our baby. So.” You took a little pause, still not letting her get any words in. “I wanna know if you can take care of our children or if I should take them with me?”

“I…” Lesso sat staring at you dumbfounded hardly believing what she heard. “Honey maybe we should talk about this…” she pleaded, her voice trembling and scared.

“Baby I’m not leaving you, I love you, please don’t think for a minute I don’t. But I can’t do this anymore. You’re not willing to stay home, I usually don’t even see you all day, and handling two children, the whole house and a pregnancy is just too much for me. I’m sorry.” You rather didn’t tell her about all the accidents that led you to this decision, you didn’t want her to worry. “And I don’t want to have another fight about this, please.”

The fact you knew her so well you could literally say what she’s thinking surprised her. She wouldn’t be able to tell what your favorite tea flavor is and you could quite literally read her mind. She also saw you have already decided. Nothing she could say or do would change your decision, so she wanted to hear your plea out and just accept it as a fact. It wasn’t the end, right? You won’t be pregnant forever, and once you are not, everything will be back to normal with a new bundle of joy to have around, or so she thought.

You decided to spend the night together at least, laying in each other’s arms just like you did on your wedding night. When you fell asleep, which didn’t take long from the exhaustion of the day, she could finally take a good look at you. She saw the bags under your eyes, how your skin turned a bit paler shade. How your hair wasn’t freshly washed for a few days. Your pajama shirt had a stain form yoghurt you served your kids for breakfast and you obviously hadn’t had the time to wash it yet. Or maybe you couldn’t reach down to the washing machine? She started to silently cry overwhelmed with everything going on. With regret she wasn’t here enough for you. Or didn’t put her kids to bed most of the time. Didn’t bath them or give them goodbye kisses in the morning cause they weren’t up yet.

In the morning she helped you pack the kids and said goodbye to you all leaving the house in a carriage sent by your mother to pick you up. She left the house not too long after that, going around her day at the school as if nothing happened. Her brain didn’t really process the changes in her life yet. Maybe a little separation will do you some good. You’ll get a little rest from each other, come to different thoughts. But none of her thoughts were happy once she came home. The house was cold and dark. Unwashed dishes from breakfast were the only thing to great her back. The kids’ beds weren’t made. Your room was unwelcoming without you in it. Suddenly it felt like the house lacked any spirit to it. Everything that made this place fun and cheerful left. It wasn’t a home anymore, just a house. She didn’t last more than one night in the place without you, opting to stay in her old chambers at the school afterwards.

Lesso came to visit you at your parents’ castle once in a while, but the long way made it practically impossible for her to come more than a few times a month from the school. She was overjoyed to see your kids laugh and play and you in a much better state than you were back home. Perhaps the change of environment really did you good. You were her ray of sunshine again. That’s why she didn’t want you to notice the hurting sting of regret that overtook her heart every time it was time to leave. You ensured her how much you loved her every time and she knew you’d drop your comfort and come with her if you as much as noticed a single tear on her face.

The next time she was coming to the castle, she was rushing, almost flying over the roads. God damn it, I knew she shouldn’t have moved so far, she thought. The courier with the news of your labor came in the middle of her last class, making her cut the lesson short and flee the school in seconds. She made many mistakes in your relationship lately but not being there to support you throughout your child birth was something she’d never forgive herself for. She ran through the castle hallways looking for you, finally being directed to the right room. There you were, laying in bed supported by number of pillows with sweat running down your face.

“No, I can’t do this without her! I need my fucking wife!” you screamed at your mother who stood at the side of your bed. “The baby can’t come yet!”

“Princess this baby is coming now.” The nurse informed you, and apparently you didn’t take the news well, cause you took her by the collar pulling her face close to yours.

“I swear to god if you make me do this without the mother of my children I will curse you and your family for twelve generations. Don’t fuck with me.” Heck and she wondered what attracted her to you so much.

“It’s okay, I’m here love. No need to curse the poor lady.” Leonora stepped into action waking up from her amazement and stood by your side in the nurse’s place.

“Fucking finally! What took you so long!?” you raided your anger at her but were cut of by a painful scream holding her hand for dear life so strongly your knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t break my hand…” she shut up really fast tho after the look of pure fury you gave her.

“I’m never bearing another child of yours!” you screamed with another contraction wanting to insult everyone in a mile perimeter if it lessened your pain.

After a few more hours and many curse words nobody has ever heard you use that made her sure she never wants to be on the receiving end of your anger, your baby finally cried for the first time. The rage and pain in your face was suddenly exchanged for an expression of pure bliss. You were exhausted, with rows of sweat coming down your face and your hair slacked back into the pillow. But you were finally happy and free of the pain. The nurse placed the baby on your chest, giving you some bonding time before you passed the bundle of little hands and legs to your wife.

“Aww, look. Hey little one.” Leonora beamed at the child who laughed back at her, loving her voice. Noticing you being unresponsive, she shifted her attention to you. “Y/n? Y/N!? Y/N!”

[medicus-mortem]

@piecedpirates asked: This was something she had been dreaming about since the day she had found out he was alive, that it wasn't only her that survived the horrible mess that became of their home. She'd been searching, following all the leads that she could to be following the Heart Pirates, and their yellow submarine so when she had heard word of them being on the same island she rushed herself to the port - wanting to see if it was true. Running probably wasn't the best idea as it left her fighting for air as she stopped at the submarine and her heart grew. Her final wish, and she might be granted it. Gathering her breathing in, she knocks on the submarine - knowing not to just climb onto it without permission. What do you do to get the attention of people on a boat? "Hey! Surgeon of Death! You here?" She calls out, trying to make sure her voice was loud enough - even if he wasn't, maybe someone on the crew was. "I need to speak with you." Please let him be here or nearby, Lami pleas in her head as she fixes the mask on her face, and the bag on her shoulder - she was running very low at this point, this might be her only chance. She won't leave until she sees him, because this has to be it. Continuously she bangs against the sub. Unprompted

   Shachi sighs, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the sun bathe his face. The deck of the Polar Tang is a rush of motion and activity. Ikkaku barks orders at Bepo and Skua, getting them to check one part of the ships outer hull or another. It’s rare to find a friendly port and this might be the last time they can give the Tang some decent repairs for a while. Darter heads the shore team, getting them ready to depart and get the supplies they need after Penguin returns with the list from their stores. Clione stands beside him, muttering something about needing more wheat substitutes to supplement their captain’s diet.

   Said captain isn’t here, among the chaos. He’s left that in Shachi’s hands while Law lingers in the gloom of his cabin, working on his plans and his medical reports. As thankful as he is for the vote of confidence Shachi does wish his friend would step out into the sun. He’s been seeming pallid and exhausted lately, perhaps a little depressed. Shachi suspects he hasn’t been sleeping, which isn’t new but is still worrying. Perhaps he should go down there and drag Law up to the surface.

   A metallic thudding cuts into Shachi’s musings. Eyes open behind his shades, a frown creasing his brow. The bustle stops when a shout rings out, a woman’s voice calling for the Surgeon of Death. Shachi bears his pointed teeth and pushes himself off of the Tang’s wall. He sees his crewmates tense, hands reaching for weapons or balling into combat ready fists. Even Ikkaku starts to stalk forwards, ready to snap at anyone who would lay a hand on her Polar Tang. Shachi waves her off and surprisingly she only glares at him instead of lashing out with that sharp tongue of hers. Tentatively the rest of the crew go back to work, happy to leave this situation to their Man-at-Arms.

   Shachi comes to the railing, leaning over to look down at the woman who leans perilously out between the dock and the Tang to slap her hand against the hull. He can’t see her face, only noting a very strange mask. His mouth presses into a hard line, the half-fishman trying to remember if Law has ever had a thing for women in masks. Because yes, the thought of one of Law’s many flings catching up to them does jump to mind. His captain is a sleazy bastard with a habit for breaking hearts, not just stealing them.

   “Back the fuck up, woman!” Shachi barks down at her, voice harsh. “The hell are you and what makes you think you’re worthy of my cap’n’s time?”

------------------

   Deep within the Polar Tang the Surgeon of Death sits hunched over his desk, awash in the cold, harsh light of his home. He scowls at the distant thumping vibrating through his ship. He’s become so accustomed to the Polar Tang’s sounds, to her rhythm, and he knows that thudding isn’t part of it. He may not be as attuned as Ikkaku, as able to tell what is wrong with his ship simply by listening, but when he hears something that doesn’t fit it breaks his focus. He sits up, pulling his golden gaze from the journal and documents arrayed before him.

   “The hell is that?” he growls, looking beyond the walls of his room. “I swear, if Ikkaku is making another one of her hair brained enhancements I am going to chew her out so damn hard.”

[riahlynn101]

Please may I have a Black Butler kindness and lullabies scenario of the Germany arc of when Ciel Phantomhive had a rather unpleasant nightmare and obviously wasn't hearing the concerned voices from both Finny or you (Finny's younger sister age 15 *you know the rest about her including that she is a reliable Phantomhive servant and everything..and one of Ciel's protectors*) and you came up with that of what you read from one of the diarys and you hoped that it will help..and it helped massively for Ciel Phantomhive big time to help him forget his nightmare. To be fair..to Finny..you were more of a better nurse to Ciel then he is..

https://youtu.be/DSqO7A9KEGs (the lullaby that you used to help the young master sleep..it was a surprise to Finny that you remembered because you haven't heard it for a very long time. You used the lullaby because you remembered reading from the notes..of one of Rachel Phantomhive's diary's of how it helped Ciel sleep when he had nightmares when one of your chores was to clear out a dusty room for a guest *that was before the Germany arc*)

I hope this is alright :D!! Thank you for the request!

Trigger warning: implied/referenced child abuse

--

Ciel screams, startling both her brother and her. His big, blue eyes are open impossibly wide. A look of pure terror stretches across his face, as if facing some indescribable monster that neither of them can see. 

Finnian sighs, exasperated from the day’s events. Gently, he leans over to place a cool cloth on Ciel's forehead.

“No!” Ciel shouts, thrashing about. He slaps Finny’s arm away. 

Exasperated, Finny turns to her.

“Let me see that,” she murmurs, taking the cloth from her brother’s hand. They switch, her brother taking her place at the end of the bed, while she takes his place at Ciel’s bedside. “Young master, I’m going to place this on your forehead. Your fever is quite high and-”

He screams again, climbing under the blankets. 

Finny mumbles something, stuck between reaching out and holding himself back. There’s little her brother wouldn’t do for their young master, and seeing Ciel so hurt and in so much pain, is making all his emotions act up. 

She pats his arm. “It’ll be alright.”

He takes a step back, but he remains laser-focused on Ciel. 

No longer worrying about Finnian, she turns her full attention back to the lump shivering and trembling underneath the covers. She can hear him sniffling, tiny pleas for them to leave Ciel alone fall from his mouth. It doesn’t escape either of them how odd it is for their young master to refer to himself in third-person, but it isn’t their place to question it. 

And there’s not much they can do to offer him comfort. None of them knew Ciel before whatever happened to him, happened. 

She tries one last time to reach out. “Please, come out, young master. No one here wishes you harm.”

“No!”

It’s fruitless. Ciel has little idea of where he is, and who they are. Maybe they should give him some-

Like a beacon, a memory pops into her mind’s eye. 

A while back, while straightening up a side room for their newest arrival, Mey-rin, she found a heavily burnt leather-bound book. The pages were singed and some were burnt off, but the pages that remained intact were perfectly legible. The curly writing was indicative of a woman. Their writing was lovely, and she soon found herself sucked into the poetic retelling of the person’s day-to-day life. One of these entries mentioned Ciel by name. The diary’s writer went on to say how fussy he was in comparison to - unfortunately that part of the passage was burnt away, as well as the next few pages. But thankfully, the next entry-the last one in the book, as the others have either been torn out, or burnt so badly it’s difficult to read-had the lullaby she’d sing for him when he couldn’t fall asleep. 

She never brought the book up to Ciel, putting it back where she had found it. There’s no telling who that book belonged to, but she has her suspicions. 

Ciel starts to cry, brokenly. The lump under the covers becomes even smaller. 

“Sleep now….” she sings, hoping beyond hope that she’s getting the melody right. She continues to sing, humming some of the parts she can’t remember. 

Ciel uncurls, peeking out of the blanket. He sniffles, watching her. “That’s mama’s song,” he murmurs. His voice sounds strained, almost painfully so. 

“Oh, sorry, I can stop-”

“No!” A panicked expression crossed his face, before it morphed into a much calmer one. “No, please…can you please keep singing. I…I think Ciel would like it. He- it was one of his favorite lullabies.”

“Of course, is it okay if I put this cloth on your forehead?”

Ciel starts to draw back, unsure and afraid. 

“I’ll keep singing, but your fever is dreadfully high and we need to get it down.”

He lays back in the bed, resting his head on the many pillows. 

She hums the lullaby, rewetting the cloth in a bowl of cool, clean water. Reaching over, she dabs at the young master’s sweaty forehead. He eyes every one of her movements, but seems to relish in the gentle touches. 

His eyes start to drift closed, and his head lolls to the side. 

She remains steadfast, dabbing at his feverish skin and humming the familiar lullaby. 

Soon enough, he’s asleep. 

“Sleep well, young master,” she whispers, placing the cloth back in the bowl.

[garoujo]

HOW LONG THEY LAST DURING NNN — JUJUTSU KAISEN

feat : gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento + geto suguru.

♱ warnings — f!reader, how long they last during no nut november, teasing, cunninglingus & bed humping in itadori’s, all characters written 18+, not proofread / note. this is 1 / 4 fandoms i’m doing 4 this so look out 4 the others <3

・✶ ｡ﾟ GOJO SATORU — NOVEMBER 15TH

honestly the only reason gojo done it was because he thought he could use it as a means to tease you, wait until you’re begging and crying for him just so he can admire how pretty you look when you’re needy. but then you actually got him feeling a little competitive about it, telling him he’d never be able to do it no matter how strong he was, and that’s when he actually decided to take things seriously. but gojo satoru was still a fucking tease, so you know this month wasn’t gonna be easy regardless if he was serious or not.

but he’s wound up tight despite the way he’s not letting it show, chasing any sort of friction and touch he can get and using the excuse that he’s teasing you when in actual fact he needs you so much he might actually pass out. although you’re not doing much better when you realise just how good gojo was at knowing what you needed, your fingers barely able to reach the spots his cock could so easily. it wasn’t until he was laying on your stomach between your legs one night that you finally gave in, feeling him trace shapes into your inner thigh and making you almost whine as your pussy fucking throbs like a plea for him to move just a little closer.

“‘toru, i give up.. i want you, please.” you gasp, a little quiet as you wait for the inevitable, smug smirk that meets you when he turns to look up at you. “oh? and what does my sweet girl want from me? gotta be more specific than that.” gojo goads, deliberately moving lower so he can press his lips against your thighs, fingers squeezing the skin so he can feel you tremble. “wanna cum, please make me cum! it’s no fun.” you finally cry and he’s as relieved as he is hard despite the way he breathes out a laugh before biting down on your thighs to leave a pretty blooming mark. “hm? so greedy for me, sweet thing. must know i can never say no to you.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ ITADORI YUUJI — NOVEMBER 3RD

honestly itadori doesn’t have any idea why he agreed to do it but you asked him if he would and he’s never been one to say no to you, so here he is. literally doesn’t even last 3 days — he’s convinced himself that he should still be able to make you feel good while holding off for himself. he’s always been one to prioritise your pleasure ofcourse but if it was anyone else they maybe would’ve believed him.

but you’re the one who’s went through the first three days of november with him, so you know that the challenge is getting to him a lot more than you think even he realises. it’s basically thanks to you that itadori has even lasted this long considering he can’t keep his hands off of you, basically grinding his bulge against you at every opportunity — even just a hug before you leave for work has him rock hard and whining about how much it hurts. but because he’s cute you decide to amuse him when he asks if he can atleast make you cum instead, telling you about how it’s really a distraction for him.

so now you’re lay out beneath itadori as his head basically shakes between your thighs — tongue bathing your clit in strong licks and slurps as he drinks up whatever you’re willing to give him, completely ignorant to the way his cock is leaking against the mattress beneath him. you’re convinced it’s like animal instinct the first roll of his hips into the bed, making him groan against your pussy before he’s beginning his own pace — making the bed shriek against the floor with how heavy he’s humping his cock against the mattress. but you feel so fucking good you can barely breathe nevermind speak as he closes his lips around your clit to suckle, babbling against your folds as he brings himself closer to his own release. “hurts so bad, baby.. gotta cum, can give you so much. p-promise.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI — NOVEMBER 23RD

megumi actually almost makes it the full month, despite the way he’s a little cranky and grumpier than usual. constantly sitting with a pout on his lips and his arms folded, avoiding your eye contact at any given opportunity he can because he knows you’re so pretty and that’s enough to be his unraveling. he doesn’t even know why he agreed to do it, he heard itadori was doing the same and then somehow ended up convinced to do so, but now he’s just needy and annoyed and wants nothing more than to be sinking into your cunt, but he’s too stubborn to give up now.

even when you’re both lying in bed, megumi almost makes sure he’s turned away from you despite the way he wants nothing more than to feel you pressed up against him. but even having you this close is a struggle, just feeling the proximity of your body heat beneath the comforter makes his cock twitch and throb, pulling a quiet little whimper from his lips as he tries to force himself to forget about it and just sleep.

but you were nothing if not a loving partner, so you can so easily see the discomfort that megumi is in, so why not help? he almost jolts when he feels your hands trace around him to smooth under his shirt — palming at his cock through his sweats as your chest presses up tight against his back. “w-what’re you doing?” “you okay, ‘gumi? need help?” you hum and megumi whines, long and low with the first eager stroke of your palm across his clothed cock. you hear him hiss as his head drops back, hips rutting into your touch and if he wasn’t so fucking needy he’d be embarrassed about the fact he’s already about to cream his pants. “you’re.. fuck, you’re g’nna make me cum, you’re cheating.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ NANAMI KENTO — DECEMBER 1ST

he’s the only one out of everyone that last the whole month, the only reason nanami even done it was because it was the only way he could get gojo to stop teasing and talking to him — he did it for peace really. he knew it would be hard ofcourse, he could never say no to you at the best of time and you knew that. so this was really the only time that nanami actually didnt mind doing some overtime at work.

he almost cracked once, when he was leaving for work just as you were coming out of the shower — panting from the pretty little toy that he caught a glimpse of in the sink, and the thought of you digging out your own orgasm when he’s just a walk away made nanami feel like he was about to fucking pass out. you send him a pretty look before you lean in to press a quick kiss against his lips, and he wants nothing more than to hold you there — to rip the towel of your figure and fuck you where you stand.

“see you when you’re home.” you grin and he’s a little thankful that you walk away before he can actually act on his train of thought, having to take a few deep breaths in the car so his bulge will actually relax. but it’s carnal the way nanami seeks out your touch as soon as november ends, almost ripping off your clothes as he bathes your body in kisses — drinking up the parts of you he’s missed so much as he promises to make up for the month he’s left you without his attention. “that’s it, sweetheart. let me reward you for being so good for me.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ GETO SUGURU — NOVEMBER 20TH

ofcourse gojo is the reason geto even does it in the first place, he thinks it’s amusing and honestly doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to do it anyway — not when he’s got a pretty thing like you teasing him just by breathing. but he still wants to try instead of giving in immediately, just to see how far he’ll make it, and you considering how much you longed for his touch and his cock just as much as he did you.

you’re honestly surprised at how far he makes it in, he almost finishes the month until there’s only a few days to go and you can tell that it’s really getting to him. geto was tired of the weight of his balls, heavy cock constantly rock hard and begging to feel the twitch of your cunt around it at every single moment — throbbing as soon as you even came into the room. he watches the way you walk into the living room one day as he sits manspread on the couch, chest heaving with heavy breathes as he tilts his chin up against his palm.

“you’re teasing me being that pretty, y’know.” geto drawls as a grin teases his lips, dark eyes sweeping over your figure shamelessly before he’s biting down on his lower lip to stifle a groan. “i think you’re teasing yourself, sugu.” you reply quickly and you watch the way he readjusts himself, palming at the uncomfortable strain of his cock before he’s whistling. “say my name like that again, pretty girl. like the way it sounds.” the low drawl of his voice only draws you closer until you’re within reach for his large hands to grab at your hips — pulling you onto his lap while he mouths at the column of your throat. “think i’ve lasted long enough, miss my girl’s pretty pussy too much.” let’s just say he doesn’t make you say his name again, he makes you scream it.

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[missmeinyourbones]

hello favorite writer !! can u do megumi w 46 in the kisses section ? i hope u r doing well and i love ur works :)

46. angry kisses (M. FUSHIGURO) (wc: 650+)

part of L’s 1K event!

“Megumi?”

He can practically hear the quiver of your lip before he sees it, turning around at the sound of your voice calling out his name. He should be scared, petrified, of the wrath he knows he’s about to face. He should be shaking in fear and anticipation of the anger he knows you hold for him right now, but he isn't.

If anything, in some sick way, he’s relieved. Grateful to even be hearing your voice after the stupid stunt he just pulled on his mission. Even if your voice was laced with fury and resentment, it was still yours. 

When he fully turns and sees you, he can practically feel the heat from the anger radiating off of you. If it was possible, he’s absolutely certain that steam would be coming out of your ears. You wear a livid yet weary expression, one he’s become far too accustomed to these days. And again he finds himself cursing his heart for swooning at the sight of your angered frame, because again, it’s yours. 

Suddenly you’re walking towards him, quickly and motivated as you close the space between the two of you. He expects a light shove, some tears, maybe even a flick on the forehead. He expects your desperate pleas of hurt and betrayal, or even worse, the silent treatment. What he doesn't expect but somehow still receives, is your lips desperately on his, inhaling all of him as if you might never get the chance to taste him again. 

“You’re so stupid,” you whisper between the cracks of his bloodied pout. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” he agrees, and he means it. He knows how foolish it was to risk his life on a whim like that, without saying goodbye to you or kissing you one last time. He thinks he’d kill you if you did the same to him. 

“I know,” he repeats (more so to himself) into your mouth, lips still feverishly on one another. 

He’s not sure what he did to deserve this kind of reaction, but he’s more than thankful for it. You are mad at him, he can tell from the harsh insults imbedded in your kisses, but you’re still kissing him. So how mad can you really be? 

“How could you do that to me?” 

Kiss. 

“Something could’ve happened to you.” 

Kiss. 

“You’re so selfish.” 

Kiss. 

“I would have never done that to you.” 

Kiss. 

Your hands are clinging and grasping onto any part of him they can reach: his sore arms, disheveled hair, tiresome back. Poking, prodding, feeling him. Making sure he’s alive and here, in your arms and stupid as ever. 

“Not that I’m complaining or anything but,” Megumi decides to try his luck, as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a second before pulling away once more to quietly mumble, “if you’re so mad at me, why are you kissing me?”

And he almost regrets asking, because for the first time since you walked into his embrace, your lips leave his as you pull away to look him in the eyes. 

“Because I need to feel you,” you pine and he feels the love in your voice—it encompasses him like a familiar scent of warmth and home. Your eyes burn into his as you continue, “Make sure you’re still with me, even though you’re an asshole.”

He lets out a soft chuckle at your crude insult and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more loved than he does in this moment. For someone to scream at him, hold him accountable, want more for him, it feels like a blessing which he doesn’t deserve. 

“I’m sorry,” he returns, forehead resting on yours as his large and calloused hand rubs sweet circles on the center of your back. 

“No, you’re not,” you mumble as your lips find his again, needing him close. You feel him smile into the kiss as he grabs your face to deepen his movements.

“Kinda hard to be when you’re kissing me like this,” he admits with a grin. “Not exactly a punishment.”

NOTE: f- favori- favorite writer????? imagine me clutching my chest and blushing bc thats whats happing rn. thank u for all of ur support / reading my works / requesting this for the sweetest stupid boy ever! i hope you are doing amazing and that this makes u smile 

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would���ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

[adoringhaikyuu]

when their teammate has a crush on you

characters: kageyama, kenma, oikawa, tanaka

warnings: nothing, just some pouty boys and possessiveness

notes: i stumbled upon @kageyuji​‘s take on this while i was writing! so i thought i might as well give them a shoutout! 

kageyama:

you already know this boy speaks up with no shame

and he will glare at anyone who gets in his way or on his nerves, especially when they do anything to you

so when hinata doesn’t even try to hide that he likes you, saying boldly “well why should i lie?” 

you could only imagine the rage that kageyama is feeling

he doesn’t even want you in the same room as hinata sjkdfghsdj

he will pick either you or hinata up and take you away, depending on the situation

or he’ll take hinata’s face in his hand and just throw him away

but the boy always bounces right back, somehow unharmed and you’re grateful for that 

but anyway it’s not that hinata is necessarily trying to break the two of you up, it’s more that he’s genuinely confused as to why you’re with kageyama

“how could you possibly like this bully? is there something wrong with you?” 

he got chased by kageyama immediately after saying that––

your eyes widened as you saw a flash of orange jump in front of you as you walked towards the gym, ready to meet kageyama to go home. “y/n! y/n! could you please throw some balls for us?! yachi had to go home but we really wanna practice some more!” 

you stepped back and your boyfriend came out of nowhere, practically smacking the other boy out of the air, leaving him to crouch on the ground, clutching the top of his head as he scowled at the dark-haired boy. “calm down you idiot! y/n doesn’t have to if they don’t want to! they’re probably tired anyway and just wanna go home.” he turned to you and gave you a small smile. “you wanna go?” 

you looked between the two. “i mean...i can help you guys practice for a little bit.”

the other boy sprung up again. “oh! thank you! thank you!” 

your boyfriend bowed his head quickly. “thank you.”

you smiled up at him and he felt his cheeks redden. “of course, tobio.” a smile spread on his face as well but it was short-lived as hinata spoke up, suddenly inches away from the two of you. 

“what’s up with your face? why do you look like that?” 

kageyama scowled down at him. “nothing’s wrong with my face! what’s wrong with your face?!” 

“why are you yelling at me?!” hinata turned to you, “he’s so mean! how are you with him?” he looked down and mumbled to himself, “i wouldn’t treat you like this...”

kageyama’s eyes widened with rage. “what was that?!” 

“n––nothing!” the smaller boy backed up, eyes wide with fear. 

“you know what? we’re leaving.” kageyama stormed into the gym and quickly got his things, ignoring hinata’s pleas.

“aw what? why?! come on kageyama!” he turned to you, “y/n please––”

suddenly you were facing your boyfriend’s back as he stood in front of you to glare at the other boy. “don’t even think about it. we’re done for today.” he turned to you and grabbed your hand, tightening his hold when you waved goodbye to a pouting hinata. 

when you were almost off the premises you looked up at kageyama. “you know you’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you smirked up at him and he stuttered in shock.

“what–i–you––”

you laughed and kissed the back of his hand softly, immediately giving him a nosebleed. you handed him a tissue which he gratefully took, glaring at you weakly. 

“you know i’m yours, right?” 

he swallowed and blinked a couple times before nodding once. 

“then you have nothing to worry about, okay?”

he started muttering to himself, the only words you could make out being “idiot” and “dumbass”. you placed your hands on his cheeks and he stopped and looked down at you, eyes wide. 

“okay, tobio?”

he nodded. “okay.” he paused. “but that doesn’t mean i’m going to be nicer to that idiot––”

you laughed. “yeah baby, i know.” 

kenma:

let’s say you’d been dating kenma for a while now, a little lowkey 

and everything is fine, everything is going really well

kenma likes it when you hang around the team, the team likes you

you’re like a part of the squad

and kenma’s feeling great about it 

until lev comes along––

kenma already doesn’t like this boy, he doesn’t even know how to hit a ball properly––

but when kenma notices the way the tall boy blatantly stares at you during practice, the way he always tries to butt into your conversations and show off to you...

kenma’s practically radiating angry chihuahua energy, the air around him red and he looks like he’s two seconds away from biting––

if lev interrupts your convo w him sometimes he’d just stare at the boy deadpanned and go back to his conversation with you, “anyway–”

or he’d take your hand and lead you away

or he’d literally just say “go away, lev.” and the poor boy would just pout and whine, “aww what? why?” 

one time lev tried to tag along on one of your dates and you had to step in front of kenma so he wouldn’t kick the boy in the shins or something

lev really wasn’t trying to do any harm, he was just a big lanky puppy who had a little crush on you

but still, kenma wasn’t having any of that

kuroo leaned on the wall next to where kenma was leaning against it, sipping his water during their ten minute break. he smirked down at his friend teasingly, “so what are you gonna do about your new competition?”

kenma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, putting the bottle on the floor as he practically snarled. “shut up.”

“woah,” kuroo smiled, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “put your claws away, man. i’m just asking.” 

kenma simply grumbled in response, making his friend laugh.

“well you should think fast cause it looks like he’s getting real close to y/n right now––”

kenma’s head snapped up immediately and his jaw clenched when he took in the sight across the gym. lev was lying on the bench, practically half his body folded, his legs bent on the ground, his head on your lap, his eyes closed. 

kenma huffed and stomped over to you two, some of his other teammates jumping out of his way when they felt the almost deadly aura around him. he stopped right in front of you and you looked up at him.

he blinked. “why is lev on you?”

you shrugged, “he said his head was hurting and then just plopped his head in my lap.”

said boy finally opened his eyes and perked up, “oh hi kenma! my head’s been hurting from all this hard practice so i thought i’d rest a bit.”

your boyfriend’s eye twitched. “on y/n?” 

“yeah!” the boy smiled, somehow completely oblivious to the setter’s rage. “they’re real soft, you know––”

“yes.” kenma interrupted, blunt as ever. “i know.” 

noticing the increasing tension, you spoke up. “hey lev?” he looked at you happily. “your head’s feeling better now, right?” 

“well i guess so...”

“maybe you should go get some water and some fresh air then, yeah?”

he pouted, “but maybe i should stay for just a little longer–” kenma was about to pop a blood vessel. 

“trust me,” you guided him up gently. “this is what’s best for your health.”

as soon as he agreed and walked away from you, you looked up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face and pat your thighs. he eagerly took lev’s place and looked up at you with a furrow in his brows that you were quick to smooth out with your thumb, smiling when he visibly melted at your touch. you ran your fingers through his scalp to calm him down and he purred, leaning into your hands. 

“stupid lev...” he mumbled to himself and you laughed, leaning down to kiss his forehead, making him blush immediately.

“you have nothing to worry about, okay? i’m yours.”

he blinked, trying to calm his heartbeat, a small smile on his face. “good.” 

oikawa:

alright let’s switch things up a lil bit and mention someone i’ve personally like never seen mentioned in this scenario

let’s say mad dog likes you

oh boy

so at first oikawa thinks he’s seeing things

but once he notices how kyoutani opens the door for you, the way his eyes linger on you a little more when you come to practices or to the games, the way he gives you a small smile every now and then––

kyoutani doesn’t smile for anybody!!––

oikawa’s eyes narrow and he gets a bad feeling in his gut 

otherwise known as jealousy

now he knows you’d never leave him or anything like that, but the fact that you start getting closer to the walking time bomb and you become the only other person that he listens to besides iwaizumi––

oikawa doesn’t like that at all

he’d get all pouty and would literally drag you away from your conversations with the younger boy, almost whimpering when he glares and practically growls at him

“where is y/n-chan??” oikawa asked to no one in particular, his hands on his hips. 

kindaichi stopped and picked up one of the stray balls on the floor, “oh i saw y/n outside with kyoutani.”

“what?!” oikawa pracitcally shrieked, making the younger boy jump. he mumbled to himself, “i swear we need to get mad dog a collar with bells on it––” he stomped over to where the two of you were, a strained smile on his face as he noticed you laughing, kyoutani’s cheeks slightly pink.

“well what do we have here?” he said forceful but cheerful. 

you looked to your boyfriend with a smile and kyoutani simply glared at him, but then again, that was just his face. “oh we were just getting some fresh air. are you done practicing your serves?”

“i sure am.” he smiled, pulling you close to him by your waist and pressing an obnoxiously loud and wet kiss to your cheek which you immediately wiped off with a grimace, which he did not appreciate. “y/n-chan!” he whined, “that’s not very nice!” 

“well don’t make it so wet next time,” you rolled your eyes. 

noticing the other boy still hadn’t made a move to leave, your boyfriend spoke up. “shouldn’t you be leaving now, mad dog?”

you smacked his chest and he yelped. “don’t be so rude, tooru. he was keeping me company while you did your extra practice, you know.”  

he pouted and looked to the ground.

“i should be getting home, anyway.” the blond spoke up gruffly. his eyes softened almost imperceptibly as he looked at you. “see you, y/n.”

you smiled, “bye kyou.” 

“bye mad-dog!” your boyfriend practically sang, as he looked over his shoulder at the boy leaving. he turned back to you and you pursed your lips at his behavior, making his shoulders droop in shame. 

“you’re such a big baby, you know that?” although you insulted him, your voice was soft and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you cooed at him, your hands holding his cheeks. “but you’re my baby, okay? stop worrying so much about kyoutani.” 

he nodded. “okay...” his eyes widened hopefully, “can i get a kiss please?”

you smiled and shook your head, before leaning in. he really was a baby sometimes.  

tanaka:

you already know this boy is loud

and he likes to show off what’s his because he’s just so proud that you’re his and he loves to fawn over you

so he’ll always have a hand on you, an arm around you and he’ll always shower you in compliments whenever he sees you

a total simp

and that’s just in general

so when his friend likes you ??? bruh

let’s just say nishinoya thinks you’re kinda cute,,, okay really cute and his crush only (unwillingly) grew for you after you started dating tanaka and hanging out with them all the time

he’d be really excited whenever you were around, a pink tint covering his cheeks, a smile glued to his face

he’d try to show off during practice and games, looking to you after he lands a successful rolling thunder

and tanaka would be growling in the corner sdfghj

he’d literally try to one up his friend immediately and would scream to you in the stands “I LOVE YOU BABY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!!”

after they win he’d pull you into a crushing hug and give you loud kisses all over your face 

he’d do the most and then he’d smile all smug making sure everyone including nishinoya saw 

you laughed as noya jumped several feet in the air to high five you after winning their game, a bright smile on his face. “did you see that last receive i did y/n? did you?” 

you nodded, laughing. “yes i did noya, it was really impressive.” 

his cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, scratching the back of his head nervously as he waved you off. “ah it wasn’t all that...it was pretty good though, huh?” 

before you could respond, you saw a flash of movement in front of you before you were suddenly being hoisted into the air. you gasped and wrapped your arms and legs around your boyfriend, “ryu!––” 

“hey baby!” he practically yelled, smiling up at you and not so subtly walking away from his best friend with you in his arms. “did you see me hit that last spike? your man looked pretty good out there, huh? better than everyone else right?” 

daichi who was walking by the two of you quickly hit the back of tanaka’s head in warning, hearing his words. “watch it––”

tanaka turned his head, “uh i mean you looked great too captain! couldn’t have done this without you––”

“yeah yeah,” he walked away, rolling his eyes and you laughed yet again, grabbing your boyfriend’s attention. 

he looked up at you with wide eyes, squeezing his arms around you tighter and you smiled, putting your hand on his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch softly and you pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush immediately. “of course i was watching you, and yes you looked very very good out there. i’m so proud of you.” 

he smiled wide but tried to act oblivious when you went on, “you know you kinda interrupted my conversation earlier with––”

“well anyway! i think we should get going now--” he spoke far too loud, walking faster from the gym, making you shake your head at his adorably possessive behavior. 

you leaned your head on his shoulder fondly, “you know you can be ridiculous sometimes ryu...”

he huffed quietly, “well you still love me right?”

you smiled. “always.” 

[kaghoeyama]

three of cups.

featuring: eren jaeger, armin arlert, afab reader.

word count: 5.5k

summary: you, eren and armin have been best friends for ages. there’s always been an underlying tension between the three of you, until that tension finally snaps.

content warning: smut, college au, post-timeskip characters, alcohol consumption (characters are tipsy but not inebriated), threesome, mlm, mutual pining, voyeurism, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), slight edging, use of good boy/good girl, masturbation, cumplay

a/n: uhh so i was horny and this happened. pls be kind this is like my first fanfic ever (also english is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes feel free to let me know).

update: so apparently tumblr took out a whole ass paragraph after the “keep reading” and then repeated two different paragraphs twice?? i’ve seen people trying to fix this by adding asterisks so i’m doing the same. sorry about that lol.

18+ CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

So loud, you think.

You can almost feel the room vibrate with beat of the music, your steps naturally adapting to the rhythm as you make your way through a crowd of college students in various states of dishevelment. A smile comes to your lips. The whole place smells of alcohol and sweat and the floor is sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the chaos; the year had been brutal for a lot of you and with finals finally behind you, no one was gonna miss the chance to loosen up and just have fun, yourself included. Which was exactly what brought you to make this little trip across the room, eyes fixed on your objective.

*

*

*

He’s leaning against the wall, his golden hair making it easier for you to spot him in the crowded room. His eyes are trained on his phone as he mindless scrolls down with his thumb, so you’re not too surprised when he doesn’t notice you straight away, even when you’re standing right in front of him.

You take a moment to take in his delicate features, his skin turned to porcelain by the bright light coming from his phone; the alcohol makes you bold enough to trail a hand up his arm and rest on his cheek, successfully shifting his attention to you. His face relaxes in a smile when he sees you, but his eyebrows are still raised in surprise at your sudden closeness; he opens his mouth to greet you but you’re quicker,  “Armin, would you please let me kiss you?”, your gaze keeping him pinned against the wall.

“I- what?” 

You relish in the way his breath catches in his throat, and you certainly don’t miss the flush that comes to his face or the way his eyes drop to your lips. 

“It’s for a dare… please?” your answer comes so innocent to his ears and he tries not to think at how pretty your plea sounded, even prettier than he’d fantasized so many times now.

 “I- I mean, yeah, sure” he stammers; you chuckle when close the distance between you, his pretty blue eyes still confused as you press your lips against his. 

The kiss comes out of the blue for him, yet you don’t miss the way his hands instinctively grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You hum into the kiss, your body suddenly so warm as he moves his lips against yours; he’s so pliant, all you had to do was ask and now he’s all over you, his grip keeping you flush against his body. Your fingers slip between his golden locks and when you lightly tug at them his hold grows tighter, his lips parting with a low moan. You swear you hear him whimper as you slip your tongue past his lips, taking control of the kiss as you explore his mouth, warm and wet and oh his hands are gripping your ass now, and you moan into the kiss as you feel his erection poking at your hip.

 “The dare said ‘kiss’ but if you two wanna get a room…” Sasha’s loud voice somehow reaches you from across the room and you pull back from the kiss, a string of spit connecting still connecting your mouths. He’s panting, mouth still parted, and you can’t help but stare at his pink lips, slightly puffed and still shiny from the kiss.

 Without thinking you brush a thumb against his lower lip, “so pretty” you murmur. 

Armin swallows around nothing, and when your eyes meet his pupils are all blown out, pleading, almost begging you to close the distance once again. Fuck he looks so flustered, heat pooling between your legs as you wonder how he’d look if you took his cock in your mouth, if you could make him so lost in pleasure that his smart little brain couldn’t form any coherent thoughts.

 You feel his arm around your shoulders before you see him, his usual scent of soap and lemon shampoo now mixed with a hint of smoke. You rest your head against his shoulder, your body craving physical contact after the kiss you’d shared with the blond. “Hi ’ren” you murmur against his shirt, dazed eyes looking up at him and then shifting to Armin. Your kiss was enough to make his brain fuzzy but now, with Eren’s arm wrapped around him and his body so close, he felt completely overwhelmed.

Eren pressed a kiss over your hair and pulled you and Armin even closer. “You shouldn’t keep all the fun to yourselves, don’t you know that sharing is caring?” he whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear through the music.

You can’t believe that cheesy line sent a shiver through your body. You figure it’s because of Eren.

“Maybe we should make use of that tequila bottle in our dorm room, what do you say Armin?” he adds, the blond choking out a soft affirmation. You doubt your sober self would have done that, but you were tipsy enough not to care when you took both their hands, interlacing your fingers with their own, a teasing smile gracing your lips. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 You feel strangely calm as you walk down the hallway. It’s definitely quieter than the party, and your attention is quickly drawn from one dorm room to another, where you catch glimpses of people smoking and drinking to the sound of at least ten different playlists.

Again, you smile. For the third year now you’re witnessing how your otherwise rigorous and law abiding campus turns into a huge frat party in the weekend after finals. You don’t know if it’s the warm weather or the fact most common spaces are surprisingly clean by monday that makes everyone look the other way, either way you’re thankful. You close your eyes for a moment as you walk, slightly overwhelmed by the music and the loud chatter and the drink you had at the party, your brain lost in a pleasant buzz.

 A light squeeze to your hand brings you back to earth. Your head turns to your left, eyes slowly opening to meet a pair of blue ones. 

“Are you okay?” Armin asks softly, the tiniest hint of concern slipping past his lips. You wait a beat before addressing his question, choosing to look at him instead. You note that his cheeks are almost as pink as his lips, and that his blue t-shirt makes his eyes sparkle; you ignore how your stomach flips when you realize he’d been holding your hand since you’d left the party. 

“I’m great,” you say as you shift closer to him “I’m in a good mood actually.”

 You catch Eren’s eyes leaving you as he turns his head forward and keeps walking in front of you. You let your gaze travel from his head – you loved that half bun he kept his hair in more than you should – to his broad shoulders, entranced by the way his black t-shirt stretches over his muscular back.

You must have missed the part where he stopped in front of the dorm room, because you end up bumping against that back. 

“You’re completely out of it” Eren teases with a grin. 

“No, I’m not” you retort, “as I said, I’m in a good mood.”

 The look he gives you is playful. “You call it good mood, I call it being drunk.”

 “I had literally just one drink, there’s no way anyone could get drunk from that.”

 “Depends on how strong the drink is.”

 “Will you shut up?”

 You’re still bickering as you enter the room, Armin rolling his eyes at the two of you with a fond smile. Once Eren shuts the door though, you all fall quiet.

 The only light came from the blue led Armin had put on his side of the room, casting a glow over your faces that was almost ethereal. There’s a weird tension, a nervous feeling gripping your stomach and making you tingle with anticipation. You’d been alone with them in that very room more times than you could count, cramming for tests, watching a movie or simply hanging out, but tonight something was different. You sit next to Armin on his bed, eyebrows knitting together as you quickly try to analyse that feeling.

 The three of you had been friends for ages, since you all attended the same elementary school and lived down the same street. You had bonded with Armin first, his quiet and intelligent personality matching well with yours. You remember fondly the warm afternoons in his backyard, grass tickling your skin as he showed you his new ocean life books and you rambled about ancient Egypt, Greek myths or whatever you were fixating on at the moment.

 Eren on the other hand – at first you couldn’t stand him. You only knew him as ‘Armin’s other friend’, but he was such a loud and hot headed kid, you’d always found his attitude too off-putting to even start a conversation, and you were pretty sure he didn’t like you either. After some pushing from Armin though, you’d actually tried to get to know each other; much to your surprise, you found out you had a lot of interests in common. Eventually, you’d even come to admire how passionate he got about the things he cared about, how strong his ideals were, and with time his impulsivity left room to a much more calculated approach.

 After all these years, the three of you were still as thick as thieves; you’d become so comfortable around each other that people always assumed you were either dating one of them. You’d always brush it off with a laugh, but now you wonder if it’s normal for friends to behave like that around each other. It was the little things at first; lingering touches, wondering eyes, teasing comments. Then Eren’s hands all over you every time you wore a pretty dress, or Armin’s obvious erection that time you and Eren were messing around at the pool; even your friends had noticed how close you were – and never missed a chance to tease you about it.

This is stupid, you conclude. They’re your oldest and closest friends, you won’t allow your attraction to them – at least you’re admitting it’s there – to make things weird.

 You move to get the tequila you know they keep hidden in the closet; maybe that will shake the awkwardness away. You take a long sip before handing the bottle to the blond, alcohol still burning in your throat as you lay on your back, head resting on his lap.

 You feel him still beneath you; when you look at him, his flustered expression is clear despite the dim lit room – before you can catch yourself, you wonder if he’s still hard from before.

 Eren looks at the both of you on Armin’s bed. You’ve closed your eyes and your head is lightly nodding along with some music coming from the hallway, the beat muffled by the closed door. He watches Armin, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he can almost hear the mental pep talk the blond gives himself before raising a hand to play with your hair. You hum at that, eyes slowly opening as you turn your head towards him.

 “Eren, come closer” you say, stretching out an arm as if to reach him.

 “And why would I do that” he answers with a playful smile on his lips.

 You raise your eyebrow, smiling back to him. “If you insist on staying over there, I guess Armin and I are really gonna keep all the fun to ourselves, isn’t that right Armin.” You say lightly, rising from his lap to lay against his side, your body wrapping around his arm; his hand ends up between your closed thighs and somehow you manage not purr in his ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, both of you now facing Eren. 

When Armin speaks, you don’t miss how his playful tone hides a hint of malice, eyes fixed on the brunette, “oh I’m sure he wouldn’t mind just watching if we were actually having fun.”

Eren laughs at that, his voice dropping lower. 

“True” he admits calmly, as if the thought hadn’t brought him to several orgasms through the years, “but right now I think I’d rather join.” 

And he does, sitting close to your other side.

You wish that type of exchange wasn’t as common as it was between the three of you. You also wish it didn’t send a wave of arousal trough your body every single time.

You watch him as he leans toward you to grab the bottle from Armin’s hand, taking a sip of the amber liquor. Your eyes follow a drop of alcohol at the corner of his mouth, unconsciously tightening your hold on the blond as Eren’s tongue comes out to bring the drop past his lips.

In that moment, Armin decides he’s had enough. He’s way too turned on to let all this teasing slide; if the three of you really are as attracted to each other as he thinks, this was the time he was gonna do something about it. So when he speaks, he does with a purpose.

 “Is it weird that I’ve kissed both my best friends?” his question sounds so innocent, he even lets out a calculated chuckle to feign embarrassment.

Eren tilts his head toward him, throwing him a curious glance “You still remember that? Must have been one hell of a kiss huh” he smirks. 

Armin knows he’s teasing, and that he clearly remembers too, but he can’t help the pink blush that colours his cheeks as his thoughts rush back to that night.

 It happened first semester of junior year, after Sasha’s ‘small’ housewarming party had quickly turned into a full blown party. As the music got louder and more and more people filled the tiny flat, Jean, all tipsy and bright eyed, had gathered all of you in Sasha’s room to play spin the bottle – most of you had booed him, but you’d followed him anyway.

 After watching you awkwardly peck Connie on the lips and Mikasa blush violently as Sasha took her face between her hands and gave her a loud smooch, it was his turn to play. He gave the bottle a spin and almost choked on his spit when it landed on Eren. He remembers everyone cheering as he tried to stop his face from flushing red, looking everywhere but at Eren; that’s how his eyes landed on you, quiet where your friends were loud, your eyes focused on him in a way that was almost daring.

He followed your gaze as it moved towards Eren, finally making eye contact with the boy. His attempts look composed failed miserably when Eren, a lazy smirk spreading on his lips, beckoned him with his hand to move closer.

 “I- uh we don’t have to…” he choked out.

 Eren’s smirk grew wider, “It’s just a game Armin, what are you scared of?”

 Armin couldn’t tell if his tone was soft or mocking, either way he felt as he had something to prove now.

He stood on his knees and crawled on the floor as Eren mirrored him, ignoring the way his stomach flipped as they met in the middle of the circle, so close he could feel his breath over his lips.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean said from somewhere behind him, “it’s not like you haven’t done this before” he teased.

Armin wanted to turn back and state that no, they had not actually done that before – he’d probably sound way more disappointed than he should – but before he could even open his mouth he felt a hand on his cheek; his eyes flickered back to Eren’s green ones, only to find them trained on his lips as the brunette sealed the gap between them.

Eren’s lips felt so impossibly soft again his, he tasted like vodka and something sweet he couldn’t recognise and Armin couldn’t really thing about anything as he lost himself in the kiss. The hand on his cheek moved through his hair and Eren pulled slightly, just enough to make Armin gasp against his lips, taking the chance to slide his tongue against his lower lip and into his mouth. Armin broke the kiss at that, a whimper leaving his lips because he wanted, needed more, but the feelings building up inside him – and the arousal making his pants tighter – were sending him in a slight panic.

He barely registered his friends’ loud noises as he sat back on his spot, but he didn’t miss the way Eren winked at him and licked his lips, green eyes boring into his blue ones. Armin struggled to act like his normal self rather than some teenager who had just kissed his long time crush. He desperately tried to focus on something, anything but Eren and his stupid lips and stupid grin and stupidly pretty eyes right in front of him, and that’s how his eyes found you again.

 You had watched the whole scene with an interest you hoped went unnoticed by your friends. You sure hoped Mikasa, sat right next to you, had missed the way your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the blond gasp under Eren’s grip, heat coursing through your body and pooling between your legs. When Armin’s blue eyes found you, flustered, with half lidded eyes and teeth sunk in your bottom lip, you’d lowered your head in shame.

 Eren rests his head again the wall and closes his eyes, as to enhance the memory.

It had been over a year ago, yet he remembered Armin’s sweet lips against his, the small noises he unconsciously let out going straight to his groin.

 He remembered your face, eyes glossy with desire as you watched them part, flustered almost as much as Armin, as if you’d been the one kissing him instead, and oh had he wanted to kiss you. Had it been just the three of you in that room, he would have grabbed your face and bruised those pretty lips, forcing Armin’s sweet taste in your mouth.

 He’d long given up the guilt that came with fantasising about his closest friends, any uncomfortable feeling quickly replaced by pleasure every time he wrapped his hand around his cock. At first it was just one of you under him, on top of him; soon enough he’d started picturing both of you on your knees, eyes bright and pleading, pink tongue hanging out of your mouths as you wait for him to paint your pretty faces with his cum.

“So who’s the best kisser?” you ask, your warm breath against Armin’s ear making him shiver.

 “I can’t- You both… I’m not gonna answer that.” Armin manages to sound flustered when he answers.

 Eren looks at him. “I would” he states nonchalantly, “but I don’t have all the materials to make my choice.” His tone drops to a low murmur, green eyes slowly shifting to you.

 Armin tries to hold back a smile, both of you reacting exactly as he anticipated.

 Your heart is hammering in your chest, it’s beat so loud you’re sure both of the boys can hear it; when you speak, you desperately try to keep your voice steady.

“Then god forbid you make an uniformed decision.”

 Eren is straight up grinning at this point; he grabs your wrists and tugs you closer, pulling you on his lap. You balance yourself on his shoulders as his hands graze your bare thighs up and down, your skirt bunching up to your hips and barely covering your panties.

 When your eyes meet, you’re shocked at how softly he’s looking at you. “I’ve been waiting a while for this” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, and you swear you can feel him stroking your cheek before burying his hands your hair and drawing you closer. He’s so warm all pressed up against you, so sweet when his lips ghost against yours before finally kissing you.

You’re slow to respond at first, too lost in how right it feels to have him so close and all over you, but you’re quick to part your lips for him, his tongue sliding against yours; he tastes of alcohol and you get drunk on it, a small moan leaving your throat and getting lost in the kiss. You whimper as you feel him groping your ass and push you even closer. He’s kissing you like a man starved, devouring you, the intensity making you feel light headed. You break apart from the kiss with a sigh, head falling on his shoulder, barely registering what you’re doing as you lightly grind against his hardening cock.

Eren groans as he tugs your hair so that you can look at him, his dark pupils swallowing up almost any trace of green. 

“So needy… how many times have you thought about this?” he asks, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your skirt. 

You look away from him, cheeks heating up; you don’t want to admit how many times you’ve cummed on your fingers with their names on your lips, but you don’t think you have a choice.

 His head dips lower to press an open mouth kiss to the column of your throat, “Answer baby, there’s no need to be shy; we’re all friends here.”

 You suck in your breath, voice embarrassingly shaky “so- so many times, w- with both of you” you confess.

 Armin groans at your words, a curse slipping past his lips. “We- we could have done this so long ago” he mumbles, eyes fixed on you as he palms himself through his jeans. You feel so hot under his gaze, so wanted, you never want his eyes to leave your body.

Eren steals your attention by sucking a purple mark at the base of your neck; you bite back a moan as he licks at the bruise, heat pooling in your panties. he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

 “This won’t do” he says softly against the shell of your ear “how can Armin hear all your pretty noises if you hold them back?”

 Before you can choke out an apology, his lips go back on your neck, finding that sweet spot below your ear that makes you whimper. You’re trembling as he sucks another bruise on your skin and this time you don’t hold back, soft moans leaving your lips as your hands grips his hair, tugging it loose and fawning all over his shoulders.

 Eren pulls back, admiring his work as you try to steady your breath. 

“Good girl” he murmurs, “let us hear you.”

 You shudder at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, and he’s barely put his mouth on you. You can feel wet slick gathering in your panties and you shift to straddle one of his thighs, grinding hard to relieve the tension as your head falls back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

Two strings of low curses reach your ears, and you barely register Armin slipping a hand under his pants as Eren pulls you down on him again, the knee you have trapped between his legs pressing against his hard cock.

 “Fuck, baby you wanna cum like that? Riding my thigh?” he pants, slightly bouncing his leg up to meet your movements, successfully drawing another moan out of your lips.

He brings a hand your face, almost reverent as his thumb grazes your lower lip, just like you’d done with Armin barely an hour ago. Your tongue darts out and licks the tip of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking slightly as you nod, eager.

Eren parts his lips, eyes glued to your mouth. He can’t believe he finally has you – both of you – as he wants you, as he’s pictured so many times; he wonders if he’ll come undone in his pants like a teenager, as you add pressure on his throbbing cock with each grind of your hips. He slips his finger from your warm lips, rushing his hands under your skirt to take off your panties.

 When you finally readjust yourself on his thick thigh, you almost sob at the feeling of your bare, sensitive cunt against the rough material of his pants. Before you can resume your movements, he lifts up the piece of fabric, dangling it in front of your face.

 “Look at this” he murmurs, “completely soaked” his voice trailing off as an idea suddenly forms in his mind. 

He turns to Armin, and fuck, he feels his cock twitch at the sight. The blond is laying against the headboard, legs spread apart; he has a hand wrapped tight at the base of his hard, leaking cock, his pretty face all scrunched up in pleasure. 

Armin’s cheeks heat up when he notices Eren’s eyes on him, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly stroking his cock, trying to delay his orgasm as much as possible.

“’Min, you think you could use these?” Eren asks, dark eyes dropping between the blond’s legs. Armin’s eyes widen at the request, his brain shutting down for a moment as he looks at the drenched panties in his hand. 

“What? I- I-…” he looks at you, dazed, half lidded eyes boring into his blue ones as you rub slowly on eren’s thigh. “Y- yes please” he chokes out, shame reddening the tip of his ears.

 “So polite… what a good boy” Eren purrs, his deep voice making Armin twitch in his own hand. 

He takes the panties, the beads of your arousal thick on the side your cunt was, and he wraps the fabric around his cock. You watch with wide eyes, struggling to believe that sweet innocent Armin would ever give you such a lewd sight; you’re itching to lean over and kiss, lick, bite every inch of his body, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you in place.

Armin moans loudly as your slick smears all over his shaft. He keeps rubbing at himself with your panties trapped between his hand and his cock and how the fuck is this already topping every sexual experience I’ve ever had he manages to think. His eyes trail up and down your body, Eren’s body, and he doesn’t even notice how much his strokes speed up, hips bucking desperately into his own hand.

“Slow down baby or you’ll miss all the fun” Eren’s voice is as soft as the hand he puts on his leg to appease him. “If you behave, y/n will let you cum on her, right?” he says, sneaking a hand between your legs and sliding two fingers between your dripping folds.

 “Ah- ye- yes Armin, wherever you want” you squeak, arching your back as Eren slips his fingers inside you. You feel inebriated as he slowly starts pumping, his fingertips massaging your walls, so slowly you want to cry. You wail when his fingers curl over your sweet spot, a hand gripping your waist to stop you from fucking yourself against his hand.

“Please ‘Ren, oh god, please, faster” you sob, high pitched moans slipping past your lips before you even realise it.

Instead of listening to you, Eren pulls his fingers out and slides them up to your clit, collecting your slick; you whimper when he retracts his hand from your cunt, pressing down on his thigh once again to get more friction. When your clit brushes against a wrinkle in his pants your eyes roll inside your head, orgasm so close you can taste it, but apparently Eren has other plans.

 “Not yet baby, hold it for a bit longer, will you?” he purrs close to your ear, his mouth peppering wet kisses on your neck.

“Please a-ah Eren I c-can’t-” your words come out as broken sobs but you’ve long stopped caring, your brain filled with nothing but pleasure.

When Eren looks at your face you look absolutely wrecked, sweat shining on your forehead and cheeks red from the strain, chest heaving as quick pants come out of your parted lips. “

Armin, come here.” He says, hungry eyes still locked on yours. The blond obeys and shuffles closer to the two of you, your panties forgotten on the bed.

“You’ve been so good I think you deserve a reward” he says, as he pushes the glistening fingers he’d just pulled out of your cunt straight into Armin’s pretty mouth. 

The blond moans at your taste, both hands coming to grab Eren’s wrist and push his fingers further in his mouth, choking slightly when they hit the back of his throat. Eren watches him in a trance, mesmerised by his blown eyes and the drop of spit that dribbles from the corner of his mouth. He wants to fucking ruin him. But not yet.

He takes his hand from the blond’s grasp – the whimper that leaves his mouth almost makes him cum on the spot. Eren lifts you from his lap, ignoring your pout as he places you right beside Armin.

 “Sit still for me” he says as he slowly palms his cock before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down with his boxers. You hear Armin suck in his breath as Eren’s hard cock slaps against his stomach, your own eyes widening at the sight; in length he almost matches the blonde, but the girth is just… fuck. Even dwarfed by his huge hand it’s almost intimidating, a thick vein reaching his pink leaking tip.

Eren takes his time as he pumps himself, eyes fixed on both of you; he drinks in your pretty, desperate faces, hands clutching the bedsheets as you try not to squirm under his gaze.

“Where do you wanna cum ’Min?” Eren’s question snaps him off a stupor, eyes leaving his groin to settle on your face.

You’re surprised Armin can blush more than he already is as he stutters that he wants to cum on you tits. You smirk as you quickly take off your top and unhook your bra, lust clouding you senses as you lay on the bed, head towards Eren as you motion Armin to straddle your waist. His eyes flicker to Eren and you miss the brunette’s nod before Armin comes on top of you, knees straddling your thighs.

Armin can’t believe just how fucking pretty you look under him, naked except for that cute pleated skirt you’re somehow still wearing. His hand trails up your stomach to squeeze your tits, fingers playing with your nipples as he pumps himself faster.

You feel Eren’s hand cradle your face, “touch yourself” he says, and you do just that.

With your skirt bunched up at your waist and your fingers quickly circling your clit, Armin doesn’t stand a chance; he leans forward, a hand planted on the bed as he cums on your tits with loud moan and your name on his lips, warm liquid painting your heaving chest. 

You watch the blond leaning back against the headboard, desperately trying to catch his breath; you lock eyes with him, toungue wetting your lips as you bring a hand up to play with the mess he made on you, getting high on the look of pure defeat on his face as you take your cum coated fingers back to your clit.

 “Oh fuck” Eren can’t believe how wrecked his own voice sounds “who would have thought you two would be such dirty sluts” he pants, his hand sliding faster and faster against his cock.

 You moan at his words “’Ren p-please can- can I-”

 “Cum.” He orders, and you obey right away.

The sounds that leave your lips are nothing short of pornographic, your body shaking and twitching in pleasure, mouth agape and head thrown back as white lights explode behind your eyelids, any coherent thought wiped out of your brain. Eren chokes out a curse at the sight, soft, high pitched groans echoing in the room until he finally cums with a broken moan, the liquid coating his hand and making a mess on his clothes.

It takes a while before any of you even attempts to move; silence falls in the room once again, except for your labored pants mixed with the music still playing in the hallway.

 Eren is the first to get up and head for the bathroom. By the time you’ve all taken a shower and settled back on Armin’s bed, no one has still said a word. You feel anxiety settle low in your stomach, its grip speeding up your heartbeats.

Did you ruin everything? Is this the end of your friendship? 

 “So who’s the best kisser?”

 Armin’s voice comes out tired and rough, but it puts a halt to the doubts swirling in your mind.

 The breathy chuckle leaving Eren’s mouth sends a wave of relief through your body; “I’m sorry ’Min but y/n is definitely winning this one.” You smile as you feel his hand ghosting over your spine.

 “Yeah, figured.”

The blond curls up against you and you’re still smiling. 

The bed is way too small for the three of you and the night breeze coming from the window does little to cool you down, but you’ve never been better, a warm feeling spreading from where your bodies connect with each other.

 As slumber takes you, you hope they’re still gonna be there when you wake up.