#yoichi nagumo fluff

[faintrustle]

QUESTION:

Who’s louder in bed, GOJO SATORU from Jujutsu Kaisen or NAGUMO YOICHI from Sakamoto Days?

ANSWER:

Gojo Satoru might be louder in bed because of his flamboyant and expressive nature. He’s confident, enjoys attention, and isn't shy about showing off, which could translate into being more vocal in intimate situations. His touches and thrusts are likely to be bold and unrestrained, reflecting his dominant presence, though he might use his commanding demeanor to invite his partner to take charge at times. He could also use his body to fully express his enjoyment: his body tenses and shudders, his eyes shut tight, and his Adam's apple moves as he gulps from the intensity of the moment, all of which clearly show his partner how much he appreciates them. Nagumo Yoichi could also be loud, but his approach might be more about playful teasing and unpredictability. While he might have moments of being loud, his focus could be on keeping things lively and exciting rather than just being vocal. Perhaps he will use witty banter and lighthearted jokes to make the experience fun and more relaxed as he continues to move. He could shift from slow, teasing thrusts to more forceful movements without warning, leaving his partner moaning and craving more.

[uzurakis]

Yess so glad to see more Sakamoto days fans 😏 may I request some Nagumo headcanons with him being in a relationship, kinda curious about how’d he be like in an argument with s/o

ೀ ׅ ۫ . YOICHI NAGUMO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS ?

SFW and NSFW under the cut!

n. i just recycled and elaborate the sfw ones from the asked i got from my 🎲 anon, added other things also. i love writing my stinky rascal . . hope u enjoy ^3^

the dynamic in a relationship with nagumo will be natural & playful so it allows the relationship to develop organically. your relationship with him is built on a foundation of mutual understanding and subtle communication. instead of a formal confession, his consistent flirting and genuine expressions of affection serve as his way of showing his feelings.

his love languages would be heavy on physical touch, means that he expresses and receives love most profoundly through physical closeness and touch. accepts pda; in fact, he prefers to take the lead. never let him take his hands off of you, somehow. pulls you by the waist and gives you a nosy kiss. he enjoys spending quality time, although his profession occasionally prevents him from doing so. however, he will make the most of his time with you while it is available.

really clingy in private. won’t let you get out off the bed by hugging you from behind. he’s also the big spoon most of the time.

he talks in his sleep when he’s comfortable with you, murmuring about how much you mean to him and lazy smooches here and there. likes to pretend to be asleep as well so you continue to caress him in bed when he’s ‘asleep’.

traps you in a hug every single time. nagumo just comes out of nowhere to hug you, not letting you go, and says “caught youu” and carries you in bridal style around the house.

if you love his tattoos, he definitely walks around naked in the house. also, the sign that he truly trusts you with all his life is when he tells you the meaning of each tattoo he has.

put your belongings at the topmost shelf so you need to call him for help or hides your stuffs in the most random places ever.

you guys have board and card games around the house. monopoly? uno? guess who? snakes & ladders? just name it.

i’ve seen so many times others saying he loves to play pranks, i definitely agree. intentionally getting you on your nerves just for him to apologize with another set of pranks. he’s just silly like that.

contrarily to beliefs, he likes to mull over after you guys argue and gives you space as he rethinks and reflects his actions. when he apologizes after a big fight, he takes both of your hands and swings them left and right as he explains, still teases but with a nervous smile this time.

a flirt, teaser, prankster, drama queen, what else?

he MATCHES YOUR FREAK, did i tell you he’s a nasty in bed? one hell of an experimentalist, doesn’t mind doing anything with you. his rage is huge, i’ll tell you that. vanilla? roleplay? waxplay? pegging? all down, just name it.

quickies at inconvenient times. you guys have a meeting in 10 minutes? 4 minutes is enough to do your thing in the public bathroom together.

likes to steal glances to your tits when you guys talk. i believe he’s a tit guy rather than ass. though, in public, his hands tends to uncontrollably go down to your ass when he circles you by the waist.

too good at nipple play.

nagumo likes you make you squirt, his personal favorite. however, for him, he likes it when you give him a handjob.

talks & coos to your pussy likes its you!

in bed, he likes it when you go rough, i think it’s really going to turn him on. just ride him i swear. might be one of his best times in life.

crack jokes during it, he’s quite humorous doing sex. compliments you in a funny way and says hilarious things also. expect your sex won’t be too serious and just all laughs & giggles.

doesn’t give a fuck about bounds, so semi public and publix sex are often.

@uzurakis

[ladybyakuya]

| THAW + GAKU. 

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

+wc. —1.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[miraiimoon]

Как они утешают Вас? 💞

Gojo Satoru

Как только Годжо увидит, что его любимой плохо и она чем-то расстроена, ― весь мир отойдёт на второй план.

Он будет безостановочно оставлять поцелуи на лице, гладить по голове, шептать успокаивающие слова, постоянно предлагать свои объятья. Шаман знает, что Вам нравится, когда он обнимает. У него широкая грудь и большие накачанные мышцы на руках. Блондин часто пользуется этим в своих интересах, чтобы потрогать свою любимую девушку.

Если Ваше настроение не улучшится к концу дня, Сатору продолжит свою терапию вплоть до того момента как Вы уснёте.

Он будет действительно счастлив, когда увидит улыбку на Вашем лице следующим утром. И ещё больше начнёт заваливать поцелуями (он такой нуждающийся, когда дело касается внимания).

Nanami Kento

Мужчина сразу понял, что что-то случилось. Только ступив на порог дома, он почувствовал угнетающую атмосферу тишины. Вы всегда приветствовали его либо выходя на встречу, либо из комнаты, если были чем-то заняты. А сейчас совсем ничего.

Нанами обнаружил Вас в спальне на кровати, обнимающую подушку. Ни на один из вопросов ответа не последовало, поэтому он решил обнять Вас.

Успокаивающие слова, которые говорил блондин, должны были помочь успокоиться, но, к сожалению, они вызвали слёзы на Ваших глазах. Кенто всё время продолжал обнимать и поглаживать по спине, вплоть до того момента, когда слёзы закончились.

На следующи�� день мужчина возьмёт выходной, чтобы провести всё время с Вами. И даже, если Вы попытаетесь убедить его, что уже всё в порядке и в его помощи нет необходимости, Нанами не станет слушать, только погладит Вас по голове и оставит поцелуй на макушке. Якобы, намекая «я знаю, что ты говоришь это из вежливости и на самом деле очень хочешь, чтобы я остался рядом» (подарите этому мужчине всю Вашу любовь, он это заслужил).

Geto Suguru

Привычная улыбка Сугуру на мгновение покинет его лицо, когда он увидит красные глаза своей возлюбленной.

Кто посмел? Это первое, что попытается выяснить у Вас брюнет. И только после того как лично разберётся с этим человеком этой обезьяной.

Гето одарит Вас своей мягкой улыбкой, оставит поцелуи на опухших от слёз веках, параллельно поглаживая плечи. После он приготовит чай и усадит к себе на колени для дополнительного чувства безопасности и спокойствия.

Когда Вы всё же уснёте, шаман отнесёт Вас в спальню и останется сам, чтобы во время пробуждения его любимая не столкнулась с одиночеством.

Сугуру сделает всё и даже больше, чтобы Вы забыли пережитое. Именно поэтому следующий день будет богат событиями, несмотря на то, что параллельно мужчина будет занят решением дел Культа.

Nagumo Yoichi

Нагумо привык видеть на лицах людей разные эмоции, в основном из-за его глупых шуточек и выходок.

Но столкнувшись с разочарованием своей любимой, весёлость ситуации мгновенно улетучилась, как и улыбка на губах. Редко удаётся увидеть брюнета в таком состоянии, обычно его нрав непоколебим, но в данный момент всё иначе. Он сидит перед Вами на коленях, держа за руки, размеренно поглаживая тыльный стороны ладоней.

 Йоичи обязательно узнает, кто обидел любовь всей его жизни, а пока этого не произошло, он изо всех сил будет стараться отвлечь Вас от ситуации и поддержать.

Даже, если Вы ничего не скажете, Нагумо принесёт огромное количество еды (полезной и нет), попытается сделать массаж, утопит в своих объятьях. И, скорее всего, вы так и уснёте вдвоём.

На следующее утро он не даст Вам проходу. Будет постоянно шутить, задавать глупые вопросы, ― всё ради того, чтобы увидеть слабую улыбку на Вашем лице. И Йоичи будет вознаграждён за свои старания. Пусть Вы и не выглядите как раньше, такой же счастливой и сияющей, но начало положено.

Он найдёт того, кто заставил Вас страдать, и этот человек обязательно выберет число от одного до шести.

Shishiba

Обычно Вы никогда не загружаете своего мужчину этими глупыми бытовыми разговорами о жизни обычного человека. А если и что-то говорите, то скорее в шутку, у него ведь и так достаточно сложная и опасная работа, к чему ещё держать в голове эти глупости.

Шишиба сам по себе человек спокойный и сдержанный (нет). И с этим же спокойствием, он раздробил кости молотком обидчику его прекрасной девушки. Никто не имеет права доводить Вас до слёз, особенно какой-то одноклеточный идиот.

Вообще, блондин совершенно случайно узнал об этом. Он как раз выполнял миссию неподалёку, точнее сказать закончил выполнение и отправился на обед с Осараги. К счастью он не видел всего, что произошло, только Вас уходящую в слезах от какого-то человека.

Вы будете очень удивлены увидев Ордера у себя в квартире, ведь он упоминал, что будет сегодня занят и вы вряд ли увидитесь.

Пусть Шишиба и не лучший человек, когда дело касается утешения, но он максимально напряжёт мозги, чтобы найти лучшие варианты для решения этой проблемы. Как минимум, объятья Вам обеспечены.

Блондин испытывает дискомфорт видя глаза своего любимого человека красными от слёз. Поэтому он заверит, что волноваться больше не о чем. Несложно догадаться, что Шишиба наверняка разобрался с обидчиком (не самым цивилизованным способом, но по-другому он не умеет).

В принципе Вы можете попросить своего мужчину проявить чуть больше заботы, но чем меньше лишних телодвижений, тем лучше.

Wriothesley

Мужчина очень внимательно относится к Вашей безопасности. Тюрьма ― это не то место, где можно расслабиться, только, если не в кабинете самого герцога. Там  спокойно, безопасно и пахнет чаем. А временами играет спокойная музыка. Вы даже несколько раз засыпали на диване из-за такой убаюкивающей атмосферы.

И всё, казалось бы, должно быть идеально, учитывая знания и подготовку Ризли. И всё действительно было так, он надёжно держал крепость в своих руках, но только её. Внешний мир был вне его власти.

Вы всегда вместе пили чай вечером, это стало своего рода ритуалом для каждого, но в тот день чаепитие не состоялось. Вместо этого брюнет целый чай пытался Вас успокоить, но слёзы всё никак не заканчивались. Он из раза в раз повторял, что Вы в безопасности и больше нечего бояться, но болезненные воспоминания не позволяли расслабиться.

Ближе к ночи, полностью выбившись из сил от переживаний, Вы уснули. Ризли был рядом до самого момента пробуждения. И будет столько сколько потребуется.

Ваши обидчики обязательно заплатят самую дорогую цену за совершённое. Герцог лично найдёт каждого. А пока, Вас ждёт огромное количество утешения в виде поцелуев, поглаживаний, чая и любых десертов, которые обычно поднимают настроение.

Thoma

Самый милый утешитель из здесь представленных. Тома как заботливый парень всегда беспокоится о своей девушке, как самочувствие, поела ли, нет ��и проблем и много другого.

Поэтому, как только Вы войдёте в комнату, молодой человек уже по выражению лица поймёт, что что-то произошло.

Без лишних слов и вопросов управляющий клана Камисато подарит самые надёжные и уютные объятья на которые только способен. А так же поцелуи по всему лицу.

Светловолосый укутает Вас в любимое одеяло, приготовит множество вкусной еды и будет всё время рядом.

Как только парень убедится, что его любимая чувствует себя лучше, он отправится на поиски того человека, который виноват в этом.

Если ситуация была из ряда вон, об этом узнает даже Аято и лично придёт убедиться всё ли с Вами в порядке. А ещё что бы поболтать и отдохнуть от работы. Выгоните его, если хотите побыть с Томой наедине.

[totallybakedcake]

At this point you know the drill

Help me pick what should I write first

So many ideas and I have to idea where to begin

Yall each time kaiju no 8 decimates the voting..

ONCE AGAIN the third time to be precise.. Kaiju no 8 has once again won! Will take some time to upload because of IRL issues but thanks to anyone who voted/liked this post or even took time to read my posts and other stuff.

Have a good day!

[inzaynety]

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©inzaynety 2024

[akimoroll]

the day you said goodnight

yoichi nagumo (sakamoto days) x afab!reader—wc 2.1k—read on ao3

tags—married couple. domestic fluff. angst. false pregnancies. disease. death. hurt/no comfort.

this is me procrastinating the last(?) chapter of the other fic lmao

on loop while writing this: clair de lune - johann debussy┊the day you said goodnight - hale┊only - lee hi┊A POTION FOR LOVE - AURORA (mostly this one)

“Are you killing people again?”

“What? No!” He chuckled, placing a hand over your own, “Why’d you ask?”

You searched his face before speaking, “Your eyes look tired lately.”

He gave your hand a little nudge, “I’ve been working late nights, remember?” He reassured you and went back to eating dinner.

You continue yours as well. After a few spoonfuls and glass clinkings, “By the way, I think I’m pregnant this time,” you announced.

“Is that so?” His voice turned muffled after stuffing his face with rice, “you feeling nauseous again?”

You leaned back to your chair, pondering, “Yeah, my period is late too. I’ll take a test first thing tomorrow,” you smiled at him with sparkles in your eyes.

He nodded as he returned a smile to you.

The two of you had been actively trying to conceive a child ever since he retired from his life as an assassin, settling down and moving far away from his previous life. Routine check-ups had become a regular occurrence. However, despite your attempts, he always refused to let you speak to the doctor, claiming he “didn't want to stress you out”.

Nonetheless, you trusted Yoichi wholeheartedly, your husband and the only person whom you hold dear to your heart, the one who saved you from the people who put you through an unspeakable kind of hell. And although it wasn’t his responsibility to look after you—considering you were a miscalculation in that specific assignment—he couldn’t help it. This decision led him to foster a friendship with you that eventually blossomed into love.

All he asked of you was that you would take good care of yourself and religiously follow the regimen of pills the doctor prescribed to ensure your health.

Initially, he began working remotely to assist you at home, until he took all the responsibilities around the house. He started learning to cook healthier meals and then for some odd reason, he began putting labels on things around the house. He also took out all the things from the overhead shelves, built another so he could lower them down to make everything accessible for you. You protested at first: I’m not senile, I’m trying to be a mother! And he would laugh as he embraced you from the back, saying: I know and I’m trying to be a good husband… and father.

He noticed your complaints on nights you couldn’t sleep, prompting him to install blackout curtains and switching the mattress into something softer. He took you for walks to lessen your afternoon naps. Being in the countryside, you were closer to nature, helping you both to relax and be away from the city’s anxiety-inducing hustle and bustle.

And on days you couldn’t go out, he would play board games with you or watch movies in the living room, or sit in comfortable silence and read a book on the balcony that was seated above the garden that he learned to meticulously tend so he could make flowers bloom for you. And when he would piss you off from his incessant teasing the night before, he would sneakily pick flowers and put it on your nightstand while you’re still asleep, hoping it would soften your mood and make you forgive him; maybe even laugh about it together over tea.

However, marriage isn’t all bliss and serenity. There were times that doubts began to nag at your mind, suspicions arise that he might be hiding something. There were nights where he was convinced you were peacefully asleep, and you would catch sight of him crying alone in the living room. And everytime you attempted to talk to him about it over breakfast, he would always come up with a stupid excuse like: I was watching a movie.

Being intimate wasn’t such a big deal until he started lacking initiative and on days you yearned for his touch, he would decline saying that you should rest instead. And then you’d ask, how am I supposed to get pregnant like this? He was always sweet about it as he wrapped his strong arms around you, telling you: let’s focus on keeping you healthy first, alright?

Why? Is there something wrong with me? Are you not telling me something?

No, you’re perfect—he would always say with the sweetest tone of voice—I just don’t want you to experience complications when the baby arrives, that’s all. And he would kiss you so tenderly and you would always believe him.

But you noticed the hospital visits started becoming a little too frequent and you were clueless and in the dark, causing you to feel uneasiness. And when you asked him about it he said, “You told me you were having trouble breathing, right?”

“Yeah, I did say that,” you nodded, trying to recall it.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Don’t worry,” he reassured, placing a hand on your lap and the other on the steering wheel as he kept his eyes on the road.

Frequent hospital visits turned into a full on hospital stay, causing you more distress. But he made sure to make everything feel familiar by bringing things from your house to your hospital room. However, everything still felt so confusing for you—all his answers were vague, making it difficult for you to piece it together.

“Why am I here? Am I giving birth already?” You worriedly asked as you watched him saunter around the room, making the place homey for you, “I don’t feel pain at all. I don’t even have a baby bump yet. Please, I wanna go home,” you continued.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he cooed as he glanced at you for a moment before continuing, “This is so we can make sure that you’re being taken care of closely.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I kept asking and asking and you never answered properly,” you voiced out in distress.

“I already–” he paused and walked over to you, sitting beside you on the bed, your hands in his, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about a thing, alright?” He comforted you.

Reluctantly, you nod. But in your head, you knew he was hiding something. You had noticed a new watchful patience in him every time you had something to say. The changes in him made you brave to ask the real questions on his next visit.

“So which one is it?”

He looked over his shoulder for a moment before putting freshly picked flowers on the vase, “Which one is what?”

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “Are you killing again?”

He paused and went over to you, attempting to hold you but you pulled away. It had gotten annoying how he had been treating you like a child lately, “Or are you cheating on me?”

You could almost see the resignation in him as he closed his eyes, trying his best to maintain his composure, “Darling, you sleep a lot these days. I’m always with you.”

“You keep lying to me,” you hissed, “And why are you calling me darling? You never call me that, ever.”

“Listen, I got everything under control. I told you worrying isn’t good for you. Don’t you trust me?” He pleaded and you could see his tears welling up.

But you couldn’t feel anything other than betrayal, having been in the dark for so long and still in the shadows, you deadpanned, “No, I don’t trust you anymore. Please get out. I want to rest.”

That was the first time you had witnessed him breakdown before your eyes leaving you more confused than sorry. Because why was he the one crying when you were the one being lied to?

Asking yourself: Is he tired of me?

Every time he made a visit, the same tedious conversation kept replaying, as if the man you had fallen in love with was fading right in front of your eyes with each passing moment. A disconnect between you began to settle in—it seemed as if he was a complete stranger now, and the pain felt like no other.

///

You strolled in silence along the tranquil garden located within the hospital’s vicinity and despite the lovely weather and the flowers blooming around you, you couldn’t shake off the overwhelming sadness surrounding your situation. You began sharing your sentiments to the medical personnel attending to you, “I miss home.”

After walking around for a few minutes, you settled under the shade of a large aged tree and noticed an elderly man, likely in his sixties, sitting while holding a familiar book. He offered a warm smile in your direction as you sat a few inches from him on an old wooden bench.

“Have you read this one?” He abruptly asked.

You looked at the cover briefly, “I think so, yes.”

“This is my wife’s. They say if you read someone’s favorite book, it could help you understand them better.”

You chuckled, “That might be true. Is your wife here too?”

“She is. We almost live here now,” he joked.

“Your wife is quite lucky, mister. My husband doesn’t visit me anymore. He’s probably out there tired of me. He told me I was always asleep… but I never sleep.” you softly said with eyes far away.

The old man looked at you with a gloomy expression before flashing a gentle smile and kindly offered, "I’ll be your visitor, if you don’t mind, of course."

And he did visit you. He would bring books from his wife’s library and read them to you as you fell asleep to the sound of his voice. His most captivating stories were about his younger years with his best pals, you could tell he loved them dearly. He would challenge you to guess his former profession based on his tales alone, promising a reward if you guessed correctly (you never did).

Playing cards and board games was his thing too. He was hilarious, you had to suppress your laugh most of the time because it started to hurt when it’s too much. But laughter wasn't the only thing you held back in his presence, but tears as well when he finally spoke about his wife—the woman he claimed to have loved the most. He spoke of her with so much fondness yet in a distant and melancholic manner, saying that she was an angel who had unconditionally loved a troubled man like himself. And when you asked him what he meant by "a man like him", he simply smiled somberly in response.

You were puzzled with his words because he seemed to be a wholesome and cheerful man. And despite his age, he possessed striking good looks. Avoiding any prying questions, you instead expressed appreciation for him despite not having known him for so long, you found a friend and a father in him, telling him you’ve never met yours.

After listening to you, he shared a bittersweet smile before quickly shifting to a playful expression, telling you, "Hey, you've got something on your hair."

His hand extended and gently brushed the side of your face before reappearing in front of you, holding a freshly picked flower, a sakurasou, delicately pinched between his tattooed fingers.

Huh?

You both chuckled as he handed it to you. When you glanced up to him, you were certain you caught a fleeting glimpse of your husband’s face. Your smile gradually dropped as your breathing began increasingly labored.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asked softly with concern, his voice sounded distorted in your ears.

Before you could reply, you felt a stab like pain in your chest, slowly spreading through your neck and jaw. A blur of movement caught your attention as he bolted out of the room to ask for help. Soon after, the door swung open as your husband came rushing towards you. He held your wrinkled hand, telling you: Stay with me. It’s going to be okay.

His voice continually echoed apologies along with desperate I love yous, and you wish you could say it back and ask, where were you? I was waiting for you. I missed you so much. I was wrong for ever doubting you. However, everything was starting to slow down around you as you step in and out of consciousness, feeling extreme fatigue and sluggish all of a sudden.

Your husband's grip was abruptly severed as medical staff swarmed around you, the chaos overwhelming your senses. The only thing you could discern was the old man’s cry and pleading. As you began to feel the curtains of life closing in, you couldn’t help but realize that you missed the chance to tell the elderly man how grateful you are for helping you see your husband’s boundless love and the depth of his devotion for you.

You didn’t even ask for his name.

Or did you? You couldn’t remember.

Oh, wait. You did.

He had a pretty name.

His name was Yoichi too.

the floral language of sakurasou or japanese primrose is “desire” and “long-lasting love“. it also implies first love, youthful love, and longing.

[24hlevi]

congrats in the 2.5k followers!! your writting is very enjoyable <33 for the event, can i as for a " ... i guess i'm just scared of losing you" (fluff prompt list 2) with Nagumo?? thank you sm!

aaaah thank you so much for requesting 🫶

he finally has a first name, what a win for the saka days community

— BLEED IT OUT

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

summary: fluff prompt ("i guess i'm just scared of losing you") from my 2.5k event

warnings: none!

waiting for nagumo to return from missions was one of the worst, dreading times of your life. wondering if he was going to come back bloody and beat or come back at all. just like tonight, where you sat on the couch in your living room, attempting to focus on the show that was playing, but you couldn't. not when you were unsure if he was okay.

suddenly, you heard the front door lock click and the door slowly creaked open. you quickly jumped up off the couch and hurried to the door, seeing nagumo stumble inside gripping his side, his body bloody and bruised with some of his clothes torn.

"jesus, yoichi!" you exclaim, catching him before he hit the ground, letting out a short grunt at him fully leaning on you.

"sorry," he says in response, struggling to follow you to the couch and he plops down on his back. "i'm okay."

"let me get the first aid kit," you say, rushing to the bathroom and getting the first aid kit and getting back to nagumo. "what the hell happened?" you ask, crouching down in front of him and opening the first aid kit on the table.

"what usually happens," he answered.

you let out a sigh and pour some alcohol on a cotton ball before bringing it to his face and gently dabbing it on the cuts. "i know this is your profession and all, but don't you think you should start being more careful?"

nagumo shrugs lightly, wincing in pain at the cotton ball touching his cuts. "i'm an assassin, being careful could get me killed."

"and not being careful enough could get you killed as well," you tell him, taking the cotton ball away and grabbing some bandages. "just because you're an assassin doesn't mean you have to be careless. what do you think would happen if you didn't come back one day?"

"i don't know," he mumbles, already sulking at your scolding.

"something not good is what," you answer for him, lifting his shirt up and starting to wrap the bandages around his abdomen area. "i guess i'm just scared of losing you, and i don't want you to do something dumb out there."

you finish bandaging him up and he sits up, cupping your face in his hands as he looks at you. "you're not going to lose me, don't worry. i'll try being more careful from now on, i promise," he sags, pecking your lips.

"you better be serious about that," you grumble out.

"i am, trust me," nagumo responds. "now let's go to sleep, i'm exhausted."

"mhm, i'm sure," you nod your head as he pulls you down onto the couch on top of him.

"i love you, y'know," he says, gently running his hands through your hair.

"i love you too," you reply, your head resting on his chest.

nagumo presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before closing his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep which made you chuckle lightly. even when he was severely beaten and bruised he could fall asleep anywhere if he was tired enough.

[uzurakis]

Nagumo is the type to smile while you talk to other guys but deep down is boiling with jealousy

nagumo leans casually against the wall, his usual playful smile plastered on his face as he watches you from a distance then his laughter joins in, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. he just laughs and smiles and jokes, really

inside, he's boiling with jealousy, a tight knot forming in his stomach. his hands clench into fists, hidden from view in his pockets, and his jaw tightens ever so slightly. he wants to stride over, wrap an arm around you, and make it clear that you're his, but he doesn't. instead, he maintains his carefree façade, the charming smile never wavering

each time you laugh, it feels like a dagger twisting in his heart. he hates feeling this way; jealousy isn’t something he’s accustomed to. but seeing you so animated with someone else makes it impossible to ignore the possessive streak within him. "making new friends, huh?" speaking out his jealousy in the most subtle way he can

[uzurakis]

as a fellow nagumo lover, how about i request nagumo saving reader (who’s also an assassin) while she’s badly injured and teasing her as she recovers 🙃

your eyes flutter awake, and you're greeted by the sight of yoichi nagumo lounging in a chair by your bed, his feet propped up on the edge. those dark eyes light up the moment he sees you stir.

"well, look who's decided to join the land of the living~!" he exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face. awhile ago, you slowly regain consciousness, the beeping of the hospital machines faintly registering in your ears. the body of yours feels heavy and sore, memories of the mission flooding back; remembering the ambush, the fight, and then the pain. but most of all, you remember nagumo’s face, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he saved you. and you don’t see that often, never, actually.

you try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a croak. nagumo jumps up, leaning over you with an exaggeratedly concerned expression.

"oh no! have you forgotten how to talk? i guess i'll just have to handle all the conversation from now on," he says, feigning a dramatic sigh.

you roll your eyes, managing to croak out, "water."

he grabs a cup of water from the table, but instead of handing it to you, he holds it just out of your reach. "first, you have to answer a riddle. what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

"nagumo, seriously?" you rasp, your annoyance mingled with a slight, very tiny hint of amusement. man, i just woke up, you say in your head.

he only chuckles and finally gives you the water. "fine, i'll let you off this time. but only because you look like you’ve been through a meat grinder."

the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you take a grateful sip. "thanks.. for the rescue," you manage to say.

nagumo waves his hand dismissively. "oh, don't mention it. just another day in the life of your favorite assassin."

don't mention it, he says with a casual wave of his hand, his trademark grin firmly in place. but beneath that easygoing facade, he's a whirlwind of emotions. the memory of finding you bleeding and unresponsive still haunts him, a gnawing fear that he might lose you forever. he can still feel the cold dread that settles in his stomach when you don't respond to his frantic calls, the way his heart pounds in his chest as he carries you to safety. every step is a desperate prayer that you'll hold on, that you'll survive. seeing you lying so still, so vulnerable, shakes him to his core. regardless of his lighthearted demeanour, he can't shake the residual anxiety of nearly losing you, the concern that one day his abilities may be worthless to keep you safe.

"favorite, huh?" you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain.

"absolutely," he says, winking. "and you know, you gave us quite a scare. i mean, i had to carry you all the way back here. do you have any idea how heavy you are?"

you glare at him playfully. "maybe if you weren't so scrawny, it wouldn't have been a problem."

the guy laughs, the sound infectious. "touché. but really, you had us all worried. even sakamoto looked like he might actually break a sweat."

"i'm sorry," you say softly, feeling a pang of guilt for the trouble you caused. “i really thought it could handle them by myself. sorry..”

nagumo's expression softens for a moment, his usual levity giving way to genuine concern. "hey, don't apologize. i've got your back, and you've got mine. besides, it’s not like i’d let anything happen to my favorite partner, riiight? why are you looking at me like that?”

before you can respond, he suddenly leans in close, a mischievous glint in black pupils. "oh, by the way, did i tell you? i told the nurses you’re afraid of needles. so they might have a surprise for you when they come to change your IV."

your eyes widen in horror, and he bursts out laughing at your reaction. "relax, i’m kidding. or am i? guess you’ll find out soon enough."

"you rascal," you mutter, shaking your head.

"you owe me a box of pocky sticks," he says with a grin, leaning back in his chair.

despite the pain and exhaustion, you can’t help but smile. "i guess i do."

he reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. "get some rest. i’ll be here when you wake up. and who knows, maybe i’ll have another riddle for you."

"great," you say sarcastically, if it’s not for your injuries, maybe you’ve already thrown a pillow at his face. though, you know you can always count on him to be there for you, pranks and all.

@uzurakis

[zehrbear]

THE BANTER THE DIALOGUE THE EVERYTHING!!

yoichi nagumo x afab!reader—wc 2.2k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fluff and humor. reader is… idk, you tell me.

a/n: had to drain the angst in my system so i pulled up my krnb playlist and listened all day… here is the result. (also a continuation of this one)

“Where are you taking me?” you grumbled, your annoyance evident in your voice.

Nagumo whined, holding onto your wrist firmly, “Just follow me.”

You tried to tug your wrist away but his grip remained tight, “You don't have to hold my wrist. I'm not a child,” you protested.

He clicked his tongue, “Nope, you run really fast. I'm too spent to chase you today.”

“I jog every morning,” you responded, “It helps.”

He smirked, “Yeah, yeah, and I lift. Do you want me to carry you around on my shoulders like a sack of rice?”

You paused, trying to repress a smile, “…No."

He lead you to a cozy boba place that had just opened near campus. It was modestly sized, not overly busy and decorated with soft lighting and small tables. The air was filled with the delightful scent of freshly brewed teas and other sweet treats.

As he stirred his drink with the straw, the pearls swam around the bottom of the tall plastic cup. Your gaze drifted from his drink to his eyes, silently studying him across the table.

“What's on your mind?” he inquired, giving your forehead a quick but gentle flick.

You swirled your straw in your drink, then took a sip before replying, “Your eyes are like… tapioca pearls.”

His eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips, "Uh... thanks?" he said, unsure of how to respond to the oddly endearing comparison.

“That wasn't a compliment,” you deadpanned.

“What was that then?” he echoed back, now curious.

“An observation,” you replied, returning his gaze.

He rested his chin on his palm and smirked, “Speaking of observations, what do you think of me lately?”

You thought about it for a moment, your expression contemplative, “It seems you've changed your strategy.”

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips, “Strategy?”

Your mind traveled back to a conversation you had with your roommate recently, where Nagumo had come up in discussion…

“I'm speaking from experience and from what I know so far, alright?” Your roommate emphasized.

You nodded, silently acknowledging her words. She continued, “We had a thing back when I was a freshman, but it was just a silly situationship, so don't worry about it.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray a hint of curiosity, “I'm not worried. Continue.”

Your roommate chuckled sheepishly, “Yeah, so, he doesn’t date date…”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, slightly confused, “I’m not sure I follow. Are you implying he's more into casual relationships?”

She nodded, “Yeah, he goes around a lot and switches things up really quickly…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

You interjected, “How long is ‘very quickly’?”

She thought for a moment before responding, “Uh… The longest I know is two months.”

Your expression turned slightly skeptical, prompting you to question, “No girlfriends? Or boyfriends, if he goes that way too?”

She shook her head, “Not that I know of…” she gasped, “Wait… Do you like him like that?”

You paused, eyes distant, before explaining, “I’m not sure what you mean, but this feeling is similar to that time when I saw a rare card that I really wanted to add to my collection.”

She nodded understandingly, her expression serious as she provided a warning, “Okay...? Be careful though. Don’t get too attached.”

You assured her, “I won’t.”

“Still, be wary,” she warned you, “He might be luring you in. He’s quite calculated with his push and pull.”

You rambled quietly, still lost in thought, “Push and pull? He’s all pull these days. Maybe he changed his strategy? I just need to beat him at his own game.”

“What...?” she asked, her expression puzzled.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, eager to move on.

She let it go, resuming the conversation, “You still tutor him, right?”

“Yes, ‘till before midterms,” you confirmed.

“I’m sure you’re aware he doesn’t need it…?” she inquired.

You shook your head in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t they give you his info?”

“They did,” you confirmed, still unclear about where this was going.

“Did you not read it?”

You responded dismissively, “The brain deletes useless information… Can you just get to the point, please?”

She chuckled, finally disclosing, “He’s an Arts Major.”

///

“You're less annoying these days,” you commented.

Nagumo smiled, amused, “Ooh... am I now? Does that mean you enjoy my company?”

You retorted, “I said ‘less annoying,’ meaning, you still are…” You paused, then added, “but I do enjoy you a little.”

His expression brightened with a beaming smile.

You couldn't help but notice the tattoos on his fingers, prompting you to ask, “Did it hurt a lot?”

He smirked, initially continuing his teasing by replying, “When I fell from the sky?”

You rolled your eyes, quickly clarifying, “The tattoos.”

He caught on to your interest (finally) and set aside his teasing for a moment to respond more seriously, “Hmm, there were different levels to it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Which one hurt the most?” you inquired before taking a sip from your drink.

He thought for a moment before replying, “Hmm. Here,” he gestured to the side of his neck, “And the one on my rib.”

Your eyes widened slightly, the straw lingered between your lips, thinking: Oh. There’s more.

“The ones on your hands didn’t? I thought the more it got to the bone, the more it hurt,” you mused.

“Yup, these ones too,” he confirmed, placing both of his hands flat on the table, “Looks like you did your research. You wanna get one too?”

You shook your head, firmly stating, “Not really.”

He smirked, sensing an opening for teasing, “What, you scared of the pain?”

“I mean, why would I want to put myself through that? Also, the aftercare seems like a hassle,” you explained.

He smirked and suggested, “How about something painless? Got a pen?”

You immediately voiced your skepticism, “I don’t trust you. You might draw something… inappropriate.”

He looked at you, feigning innocence, “Like what?”

“A penis.” You deadpanned.

He chuckled, protesting, “What do you take me for? Come onnnn…”

He leaned forward, trying to persuade you to allow him. Begrudgingly, you took out your pen pouch from your bag, which was stuffed with an assortment of pens, markers, and highlighters. He quickly slid it over to himself and unzipped it, ready to go over the contents.

With a smirk, he removed the cap of the fine-tip pen between his teeth. Looking at you, he teased, “Where’d you want your first tattoo placed, ma’am?”

You shrugged, responding, “What do you recommend?”

He smiled, taking your hand into his and intertwining your fingers. He pointed at your inner forearm and said confidently, “Right here.”

You smiled a bit at his actions and gave him permission, looking away to keep your composure, “Knock yourself out.”

The two of you shared a comfortable silence as he drew on your skin. Every shift of his hand on your flesh sent a flutter through your stomach, and you found yourself entranced by the way his hair cascaded over his face as his eyes sparkled with focused attention whilst working on his so-called painless tattooing service.

He abruptly spoke, his gaze still fixed on drawing on your skin, “Careful not to burn a hole in my face. Skincare is expensive.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “What are you blabbering about?”

He smirked, “You like to stare, ‘no?”

“Humans are naturally drawn to beauty,” you murmured quietly.

A slight blush crept across his cheek, “Woah. Look at you with your pick up line,” he teased.

You shot back, “That was not a pick-up line but a fact.”

He sighed and shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear, “Alright… All done.”

You looked down at the drawing, perplexed, “What’s this supposed to be? A sunflower?”

“No...?”

He searched through your pen pouch again and retrieved your pastel highlighters. Carefully, he added touches of lavender to the petals and brightened the center with a touch of yellow, “It’s an aster flower.”

“Why this flower?” you inquired.

He paused for a moment, still smiling, before nodding towards your phone, “Look it up right now.”

You unlocked your phone and proceeded to search for the flower’s symbolism on your phone. As you read aloud the interpretations, you looked back at him with skepticism, “Wisdom? Faith and... Valor?”

He chuckled and reached for your phone, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, “Give me that,” he said with a smirk. He quickly typed in the search bar “aster japanese flower language” before handing it back to you.

You gazed at the drawing on your forearm after looking at your phone, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips, “You won’t forget me…?”

He answered quietly, his chin resting on his palm, “Well, one of us has to remember.”

“What do you m…?”

“Nevermind.” He interrupted, quickly dismissing your train of thought. He then jokingly suggested payment for his service, “You may pay for the tattoo now, ma’am.”

“Come closer.”

He leaned in with the table between you, his eyes closed and a goofy grin playing on his lips. In a teasing tone, he said, “Very bold of you to do this right here but alright.”

He had been expecting a kiss, since that’s all you both have been doing as of late. However, when your hands reached out and gently touched the top of his head, ruffling his hair instead, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and endearment.

A headpat?

As he opened his eyes and locked gazes with you, he witnessed a tender and rare display of affection from you. He felt as though the surroundings grew hushed, and the two of you were enveloped in a private bubble. He was so tempted to cover you from the outside world, claiming this intimate expression solely for himself. Instead, he remained still, quietly cherishing each second of your touch.

Despite the many intimate experiences he’s had with others, he couldn’t have predicted that a mere headpat could do wonders to him. Maybe because it was from you.

Just when he thought his heart could finally take a breather after you took your hand away, your smile widened in appreciation as you looked down at his drawing on your forearm, speaking softly voice laced with sweetness, “You did so good. It looks very pretty.”

Then it hit him, realizing his tutor sessions with you are soon coming to an end, he was suddenly struck with an idea and asked you, “Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?”

///

EXT. ROOFTOP CIG SESH – POST DINNER

“Dude, why do you keep touching your head? You got lice or something?” Akao exclaimed.

Hearing this, Sakamoto immediately took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his hair back into a low bun.

Nagumo chuckled and replied, “You guys have not experienced loving headpats and it shows.”

Akao burst out laughing, “You've been banging girls left and right and now you're into headpats? What's next, holding hands?”

In which Nagumo retorted, “Shut up. This one’s different.”

Akao was not convinced, continued her goading, “How is it different? My bet is two weeks, max,” she then turned to Sakamoto and urged, “Place your bet, hurry.”

Sakamoto shifted his gaze to Nagumo before turning around and resting his back against the metal railings, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “Is this about your tutor?”

Akao suddenly interjected, “What do you need a tutor for?”

Nagumo beamed and responded to Sakamoto, deliberately disregarding Akao's attempt to taunt him, “Yeah. Going strong.”

Amused, Sakamoto nodded, “Nice.”

“Why is no one answering me?!” Akao raised her voice in playful protest.

“There’s this girl from a different department that I've bumped into several times for the last two years, yet she never remembers me. So I pulled some strings to get closer to her. And joke’s on you, Akao, we've been hanging out for almost two months now,” Nagumo retorted with a smug smile.

Akao cackled and mocked, “Two months? You want an award for that?” She then asked a more suggestive question, “How far have you gone with her?”

Nagumo deflected, “It doesn't matter.”

Akao chuckled and pressed, “Clocked it, y’all ain't done it yet. Man, your game’s getting weak.”

Nagumo finally quipped, “You ask too many questions. Looks like someone hasn't gotten laid lately.”

Akao released a huff and seized Nagumo in a headlock, proceeding to rub her knuckles on his head while playfully reprimanding him, “Is that how you talk to your big sister? After checking up on your brooding ass?! I even bought you groceries!”

Nagumo laughed, attempting to free himself from Akao's grip, and protested, “Stooooooop! You're erasing the headpats!” His voice strained, he added, “You’re not even that older than me!”

Sakamoto observed the two bantering like children, a subtle smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

—

EXT. CAMPUS FESTIVAL — AFTERNOON

First (one-sided) encounter. Nagumo saw you walking by and attempted to approach you.

Nagumo: Hi! You might want to try our—

You: No, thank you.

—

INT. CAMPUS — MORNING

Nagumo approaches the vending machine at the same time as you.

Nagumo: (gestures his hand) Go on ahead.

You: (inserts a coin)

Nagumo: Your usual coffee?

You: (looks) Yes.

Nagumo: Isn’t that too strong for you?

You: Not at all.

You walked away without waiting for his response.

—

EXT. NEAR SOCCER FIELD — AFTERNOON

Nagumo blocks an incoming ball.

Nagumo: You okay?

You: Yeah. Thanks. (walks off)

Nagumo: (follows you) Hey, wait up. That’s it?

You: What’s “it”?

Nagumo: You don’t remember me?

You: ...No? Sorry, I have somewhere to be.

[ladybyakuya]

| HIGH IN LOW PLACES + natsuki seba & yoichi nagumo.

+cw. — fem!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, canon typical themes and elements, mention of alcohol and drinking,ex.plicit smut{ mention ofunprotected, oral acts }, slight angst and fluff.

+wc. — 2k.

+syn.— how do they generally spend their off day ? Is it any different when you're with them?

+notes. — my sk days debut post. yay! yay! i just caught up with it and im still making memes in my head ( yeah, its that bad </3)tap the banner for better quality </3 cuz tumblr made it so whack after upload. the title is from a song by beach weather ( one of my recent favs ). i have some more wips on sk days but lets see if the starts align or they go against me. wanted add two more characters but i got carried away while writing. so next two for next weekend ig. if you catch my favoritism, then good. go ahead & exploit it ;) | redirect to blog navigation.

✦ natsuki seba : 

The sun has not even kissed the horizon yet. It is still afternoon. Natsuki was busy building one of his work-in-progress weapons as usual even though it was an off day. The JCC is not exactly asleep but is surely a little doused today. JCC never sleeps. You are in his dorm room, waiting for him to finish his work at least to a certain stage and then have lunch with you but you doubt he is barely aware of what time it is. You are not exactly hungry, at least not for those wet soggy noodles but you do miss him even though he is right in front of you. There are times when you have to feed him lunch so that he can keep working. The dorm room is small for two but given the habits of you two, it always works out, somehow. You sleep when he is working while he sleeps when you are busy or out to get something. But currently, sleep is nowhere to be found at the banks of your eyes.

“Natsu, come eat with me,”

Seba turns his head at first and gives you a look; a look that clearly states: “Are you mad?” Do you know how ridiculous you sound? His eyebrows grow closer while his lips pucker forming a pout and then he goes back to working again. He is mocking you. He is working while you sit idle and flip through a porn magazine from his collection. It’s funny because the porn magazine is not his. It is from Shin. He was just looking out for him. Shin thought it was highly uncanny how a guy could make weapons all day and night, and be obsessed with something so odd that one forgets to masturbate. Doesn’t even have the urge? Or better does his curious side not think about such self-pleasurable prospects? Well, what would Shin know?

“Natsu, come eat me out,” 

At first, he looks up from the device he was working on and then spares a glance at you.

You make yourself busy flipping through the pages of that lewd magazine. He is staring. You can feel it.

He goes back to work again but a second later he puts the miniature parts from his hand beside the device and turns his chair towards you rubbing his chin as his elbow stands on the hand-rest of the chair. He is considering it. Holy Shit. You did not mean that.

“Really? Can I?” There is a thin layer of sneer laced underneath his voice.

You closed the magazine and stood up, keeping it on his table. He looks at the cover and a chuckle escapes from his chest probably remembering how he got it or why you ordered him to eat you out; not that he would mind . . . his eyes are back on you again. “Now that I’ve your attention. Finish your lunch and then work on your project.”

“I’m going out to meet someone,” You try to leave but he grabs your wrist pulling you back in front of the bed. 

“You're lying.” he snorts out a chuckle.

“You know,” Natsuki gets up and takes slow steps towards you as you back away cornering you as he still holds your hand. “eating you out . . . that might just be the thing I need to finish my project.”

Wait. what?

Before you can ask anything he just puts you on his shoulders, walks to the bed throwing you on the mattress. For someone who is a weapon engineer, who does not spend time on fieldwork he sure has a lot of strength.

“I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to get your attention that’s all.” you try to protest but it does not faze him, not even a little.

“Well you did a good job.” Grabbing your ankles he pulls you towards the edge of the bed before getting on his knees. He points to the cup noodles. “And, i’m not eating that.”

He pulls down your panties and shorts simultaneously. You do not stop him because you crave him as much as he needs this to de-stress or that’s how he would put it. Spreading your legs he places a trail of tender kisses along your thighs threatening your sanity, threatening the urge to push him away but you simply do not want to do that. You want this: him worshipping you like he used to. The moment his lips graze your entrance you arch back, hands resting on the mattress and crumpling the sheets as Seba gets more devoted to the cause. You put one of your legs over his shoulders as he buries his face deeper inclining his face a little to lap his tongue against your pussy lips. You bite your lower lip roughly before a whisper of words comes out of your mouth, “Ya know, you should return those magazines to Shin,”

“What?” he asks; nose glistening with your arousal, wet lips, cherry cheeks, and excited eyes. A curvature appears along your lips as you run your fingers through his hair and tug at it revealing his forehead forcing his eyes to close just for a second. He is still waiting for your response. 

“Nothing. Get to work,” you say and he listens to it like a good boy.

✦ yoichi nagumo.

“Is it that tasty?” Nagumo asks drinking an o-choko full of sake from your share. His face distorts feeling the strong fizziness. “How can you drink this?” his voice spikes up as he gulps it down. He hates it, hates this, that how you on every weekend would to go Sakamoto stores and buy liquor to drink out your misery. What a waste! He does not understand why you would spend your weekends drinking, especially when he is here. Sakamoto would often tell you to stop drinking but what’s the point? You nod like a good girl, buy some cup noodles and chips and after the store closes Shin arrives with the booze. Shin is knocked out on the floor already. But he is still keeping up with you not that he enjoys it but he is looking for an opportunity to make you stop and in that process, he ended up taking a few shots. He hates it, he hates this. He hates how you make drinks. It stings on his tongue. This is not because he wants to spend his off day with you. He rarely gets a day off and he can not go that to waste, can he now?

“Wanna fuck?”

You look at him with heavy eyes and a flustered face for a few seconds. “No.”

He is stone-cold sober. He is not even that drunk, to begin with. You are. You are still so dizzy and slumber threatening your eyes but you force them open divulging, “Too much work.” Ah! The slur. The slur in your voice. His head tilts as a smile breaks on his face like a plague.

“I’ll do the work.” Nagumo insists. “All of it.” His voice is low, slow. He wants to get through to you. “I’ll make you feel so good.” He does not want you to dismiss his words as just a drunken haze or something like that. He is already neck-deep in guilt for being unable to give as much time he wants, as much as the time you demand and crave from him. He can not sabotage your security but he would not deny that he likes meeting with you in secret; gives him some sort of thrill he thinks. “I promise,” he mumbly adds.

But he does not want to overdo it or wear you out. He can’t. He won’t. He is a good when he is with you. “Woah, careful.”

After moving the bottles and cups aside, now you are all on your fours crawling towards him like a cat. He can see your boobs, the nipples— everything. Wait, is that his tank top? He must have left it when he came to you here last time. He can’t remember when but he remembers he lost that one black tank top.

As you reach, your face inches away from him you lean for a kiss but he sways away. It instantly ruins your mood. He is smirking now as you are pouting. It turns into a snort. “Shin’s still here,” He points at the boy sleeping on the couch. You glance at the boy and then look at Nagumo. He is confused. You are impatient. Fuck it.

You hold on to his shoulders trying to get into his lap, legs sprawled apart and as you make yourself comfortable your legs get clamped around his waist. He does not lose his balance but rather helps you with it.

“Babe, Shin’s still here,” Nagumo repeats making you remember.

“Don’t care,” you shout and Nagumo covers your mouth with his palm while his index finger stills over his lips shushing you. You nod. It seems he got through to you.

You do not allow him to dodge him anymore.

You lean into his hand that is still over your mouth, nuzzling against his palm. He shoves his fingers into your hair, his index finger grazing behind your ears igniting your skin with goosebumps. His thumb roughly stretches across your bottom lip before you kiss the tip of it but he swats his hand away before you could suck on it; grabbing his other arm and you slide it under the blacktop. Nagumo does not squeeze your boobs. Not yet. He does not want to do it, not like this. Last time, both of you were sober and now both of you are drunk: you on alcohol and him on you. You buck your hips trying to get closer to him. 

“God Nagumo, why are you being like this? You said you'd do all the work. . .”

because it's amusing. The fact that you are scolding him with a whispering tone is making him tremble in mirth. He is barely holding it; you are frustrated, drunk, and horny. God! What is he going to do with you? Can he really hold himself back? Maybe he should not have proposed the idea in the first place. His hands are stretched, settled on the floor as he watches you: intently, nervously.

“Kiss me.”

And your lips instantly dance against his in a frenzy yet his hands are still on the floor. Even in this state, you manage to unbuckle his belt with one hand as the other works on the buttons of his shirt. It turns him on how swift you are too. You would be very skilled in his line of work. Maybe you are, too skilled that he did not even notice. Nah! you can't be a spy.

“Put it in” you command this time breaking the kiss. Nagumo was just starting to get to the good part of the kiss only to get deprived of it. He does not waste a second to abide by your said words. If he did, he might have to walk out thinking out the possibilities of how odd it was for a first meeting with you.

Strong hands against the plush of your hip as he adjusts his cock to your entrance. He pushes aside your panty before rubbing it against your entrance. Your hands squeeze the muscles of his shoulders.

“Without . . . condom?”

So, is that why he was delaying it? You thought he didn't want this but mentioned it for the sake of pity and now he is trying to get on your nerves to wake Shin up.

Your brain freezes after such a flow of info. You give him a nod.

Nagumo swallows before his cock goes inside without rubber. It's electric: the feeling of your flesh around his.

“Take me to that room,” you gasp out the words.

“What?”

“I said what I said.”

You become so handful when drunk not that he minds. He takes you to the room kicking back the door behind you to close before crashing onto the bed.

The next morning Shin has to buy a pair of black trousers for Nagumo and he does it without even questioning. He really does not wanna know what happened after he took you inside the room.

@underratedcharactercorner

@interstellar-inn

[akimoroll]

coated biscuit sticks.

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x reader — college au

fem reader. slight enemies to lovers. fluff. suggestive. minors dni — wc: 2.1k

part of a series on ao3

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

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

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

You snickered, “Ooh, scary.”

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

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

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

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

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

You gave her a questioning look, “Elaborate.”

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

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

That was the plan.

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

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

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

He always had those on him. You want some?

No, thank you.

Why not?

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

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

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

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

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

“We shouldn’t do this.” you pant.

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

“I- Ah- I’m serious.” you stammer.

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

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

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

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he’s so hot! Are you blind?!

I’ll take him if you don’t want him.

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

God, you are dense.

And then his friends started approaching you too.

Have you seen Yoichi around?

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

Oh, you can’t? That’s too bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m not.

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

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

He snickered a little too loud. Curious about me?

You scoffed quietly and wrote: Definitely not.

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

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

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

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

Liar, liar.

You scoffed quietly, pointing at his work sheets.

But he was persistent— Were you jealous?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You unintentionally wetted your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡

[akimoroll]

giving in to the love.

chapter 4. this could be a dream.

chapters: 1 — 2 — 3 — 5

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x afab!reader—wc 6.8k—alternate universe—read on ao3

cw—mentions of abuse and death. alcoholism. smoking. fluff. angst. aged up characters with highschool flashbacks. eventual smut. pwp. pwf. please MDNI!

But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

And I lift myself and I close my eyes

And I sing sometimes to know I'm alive

I know I should figure this out on my own

But if you come by, could you take me home?

You found yourself slowly waking up in an unfamiliar space, with the sun still low partially filtering through the white curtains. As you lazily roamed areas your eyes could reach, you become aware of the scent of faint chlorine and fresh laundered fabric filling the air of the bleak looking room you’re in. Overwhelmed by grogginess and aching throughout your whole body, you drifted back to sleep.

Gradually, the soft rays of sunshine became harsher and crept through the gap in the curtains, waking you once more. You fluttered your eyes open and winced both at the brightness and the pounding in your head. As you forced yourself to sit up, you could feel the discomfort of the situation. Your mind slowly pieced together what had transpired—

Where’s Rion?

And the car?

Mom’s going to be so mad.

What happened?

Did we get hit?

Where is—

A nurse entered the room, interrupting your thoughts. Upon seeing you awake, they called for the doctor. They described what took place and how fortunate you were to miraculously sustain only minor injuries. When you asked them about Rion, they didn’t disclose detailed information, but they did tell you that she had already passed away.

What? No way.

No.

“I think you made a mistake. Can you please check her name again?”

“I’m completely fine so she’s also okay, right?”

“I think you got it all wrong. Can I please go see her?”

While they provided nothing but empathy and understanding regarding your circumstances, your mom was an exception. It’s as if she cared more about the car and all the expenses in between.

After being discharged from the hospital, you made the decision not to return to school. With the weight of guilt and self-blame, attending school seemed unbearable. Your mother had already blamed you for the accident, so what was the point? You were sure that everyone in school thought the same thing too.

But not Aoi. She went over to your house and didn’t tag anyone along for fear of making you uncomfortable.

Ms. Satoda kept calling your mom but she never answered them.

It was an accident, it wasn’t your fault. Don’t listen to them.

You’re gonna be fine. Just try coming to school tomorrow.

And so you did but you were back to your old ways. Your everyday life became monotonous once again—wake up, school, home, sleep, repeat.

Yet on Valentines day, a surprise shook you from your routine.

“What’s this?” You confronted Nagumo in the empty basketball gym with a chocolate heart box in your hand and a note saying he’d wait for you after class.

“Chocolates?” He answered in a quizzical voice.

You found it in your locker before heading home. He hasn’t talked to you since the accident—not that you wanted him either—and you thought: Is this some kind of sick joke?

You let out an empty chuckle, “I know what it is. Why?”

He didn’t know how to approach you after what happened. He was aware of it being a delicate matter and was scared to push you away if he said or did the wrong thing. He hoped to talk to you and thought it would be nice to do it on the said day. And oh boy, was he wrong.

Apologetic, he said, “For valentines. I was hoping to talk to—”

“Valentines? Are you serious?” You interrupted him, “Can you stop it already?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“You thought what? That everything’s gonna be okay with just chocolate?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed, “That’s not what that is—”

“Then what, Nagumo? What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. Just-” sighing, he clenched his jaw, “I’m worried, you know I care about you.”

“Oh, stop it, will you? You’re supposed to hate me!” You raised your voice.

Pinching his lips together, “I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Rion died because of me! Are you stupid?!” You hissed.

“That’s not true. It was an accident.” He hissed back.

You scoffed, “You know nothing!”

He raised both his hands, “Alright fine, maybe I don’t know anything!” In a pleading tone, he said, “But can’t you just let me be here for you? I lost her too!”

And it feels like you’re next—is what he couldn’t say.

As hurt and guilt consumed you, your voice quieted, “All the more reason for you to leave me alone.”

He closed his eyes in regret, he stepped closer, “Listen, I’m sorry…” but you backed away.

“No,” you shake your head, averting his gaze, “you should stay away from me. It’s for the best.”

His shoulders slumped and it’s as if you took his heart with you as he watched your retreating figure grow farther and farther away until you were out of sight.

┊┊┊

Nagumo takes you to his place. You were hesitant at first but he said he’s home alone for a week, and you thought having company isn’t so bad so you went along. You reflect on the irony of the situation and couldn't help but find it funny. Here you were, sitting next to each other, burying your faces in bowls of spicy instant ramen—his attempt to make you feel better and it worked because it’s the best you’ve had in a while, sharing it with someone deeply familiar, feeling a sense of belonging, even if it was only temporary.

“This is so good, I’ve never tried this brand before,” you say with a mouthful of noodles.

He nods, grinning as he slurps his bowl clean, clearly enjoying it as much as you. He leans back on his chair, pushing back his bangs off his sweaty forehead.

Completely unaware of his gaze, you continue to eat with yours half full. As you raise the chopsticks to your lips, a few strands of your hair fall and almost dipped into the bowl. He leans forward after noticing it, his hand gently tucking the hair behind your ear. You paused and glanced at him as the moment hung in the air.

Clearing his throat, “Your hair was…do you want to watch a movie after this?” He blurts out, not knowing what to say exactly.

You open your mouth and close it again, squinting, “It’s 2 AM, aren’t you sleepy?”

He ponders, humming, “Not really. So, yes?”

“Do you really want me to pass out on your couch?” You joked and proceeded to finish your noodles.

He chuckles as he continues to watch you, itching to play with hair. He could smell you every time you moved, wondering if it’s your shampoo or perfume, taking him back to when he sat beside you at the pub and when he kissed the top of your hair back in his car.

Curious, he asks, “Are you wearing perfume?”

You look over your shoulder, pausing to think, “I am,” telling him exactly what it is, feeling good that he noticed, “Why?”

He nods as he makes a mental note. You smell edible, is what he wanted to say. He internally shakes his head, “It suits you.”

Your cheeks start heating up, you look away, “It’s my first time wearing it,” you go back to finishing your food.

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction after learning you were wearing it for the first time—a silent claim, as if it’s a hidden part of you revealed to him alone.

You lean back on the chair as you glance at him with a satisfied smile, “Thanks for the meal.”

He catches a whiff again, unintentionally wetting his lips. He looks at you and then down to your lips, he taunts, “Your lips are puffy.”

With a lighthearted chuckle, you retort, “Yours too.”

He didn’t answer as he locked eyes with you and in that brief moment he had an inexplicable urge to be closer to you. He looks away, humming in response as he leans forward with his elbows on the table with eyes far away, rubbing his lips with his fingers.

You watch him. He hasn’t changed at all—he’s still a bit annoying with his constant boyish smile. Your eyes trail from his flowy hair to his nape, down to his strong looking shoulders and his evident toned back despite the thick fabric of his sweater. Well, maybe a little. He still slouches though. You smile inwardly.

“I should get going,” you say softly while still looking at him.

He turns to face you, resting his cheek on his palm, “Already?”

“I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

You would've stayed if it was solely up to you, but he has grown increasingly silent. Maybe he’s tired?

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“I’ll just hail a cab,” you reassure him.

He doesn’t answer and instead gives you a wistful smile while his fingertips tap on the table. After a long pause, he stands and saunters through the living room to fetch your bag and your coat next to his on the couch.

You trail after him to the foyer, suddenly feeling the urge to ask him what’s wrong, “It was nice seeing you,” you managed to say instead.

He looks over his shoulder before turning around to face you fully, answering you with a mere nod as he stands by the door.

You swallow, he’s still so quiet, “Did I say something wrong?”

He chuckles, his eyes glossy, “No, you’re fine.” he shakes his head a little. Swallowing the lump in his throat, “It was nice seeing you too,” he continued.

The silence feels awkward and uncomfortable as you stand motionless, as if unsure of what to do next. You know you should be putting on your shoes and leaving, but your mind is elsewhere.

Your thoughts race as you desperately try to recall if there was something you said that might have hurt him. The thought of parting ways with him again on a negative note gnaws at you.

There’s a lump in your throat all of sudden.

When I pass through this door, I’ll never see him again.

Closure? Are you stupid?

I already apologized.

Him being married is closure enough.

I’m the only one stuck in the past.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it!

“Are you okay?” He asks, snatching you away from your thoughts.

Your eyes shot up to his face with concern written all over it. You swallow and blurted out, “I missed you.”

He solemnly smiles at you, “Hey,” shaking his head slightly before speaking, “You know you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me.”

Why am I like this? Embarrassed, you stammer as you avoid his gaze, “No, you’re right. Sorry, I was just-”

He exhaled deeply before speaking again, “Took you long enough.”

Dumbfounded, you glance up to him: Huh?

His gaze softens, “I missed you too,” he exhaled while looking up before he settled his eyes on you, “You still wanna go?”

His question lingered in the air, the weight of its implications hanging heavily between you.

“Yes,” you utter quietly.

He nods with a tight lipped smile. As his hand reaches for your shoes from the shoe rack, you continue, “…with you.”

He stops in his tracks, slowly turning to face you. His heart pounds in his chest as he begins to comprehend the meaning behind your words. As his eyes locked onto yours, he saw a subtle plea painted on your face.

Those two simple words from you were enough to make him rush towards you. He drops all your belongings to the floor, dismissing all boundaries that had once separated the two of you.

You froze with your eyes wide open but you didn't pull away this time. Instead, you open up to him, letting go of all restraints and fears. You closed your eyes and parted your lips willingly as he poured himself to you.

As your hands extend towards him, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He leans down and encircles his arms around your waist, lifting you off the floor as he kisses you tenderly, leaving you breathless.

He guides you across the hall to his bedroom with your feet lightly shuffling backwards. His lips remain attached to yours, holding you tightly against him, almost as if he’s afraid to let you go, terrified of the thought of losing you once again. To finally be able to hold you—to taste you—is the feeling that he’s longed for.

Your gasp echoes in the room as your back meets the softness of his bed, your hair splaying across the sheets. His mind goes into a haze as he looks at you, the feeling of longing overwhelming him.

He drinks the sight of you—breathless, on his bed, waiting and only for him. You feel vulnerable under his gaze, a look you’ve never seen from him before. Your lips were glistening from his doing. He wants more, every single part of you. Everything.

Desire starts pooling inside you as he takes off his sweater. Tattoos that were once hidden now come to surface. It takes you back to earlier that evening when you saw the ones on his neck and fingers, wondering if there were more.

As the soft light filters through his windows, you allow your eyes to wander the details on his body, his chest heaving, the contours of his toned muscles and the veins snaking around his forearms. He’s gorgeous and it’s making your head spin.

He hovers over you as he kisses you, all lips and tongue, and oh so slow as his touch becomes desperate, hands claiming everything he could reach. All mine, he thought.

He takes his sweet time savoring you as if the world outside the room you’re in doesn’t exist, like nothing else matters. Only the gentle sounds of your kissing and fabric rustling filled his dimly lit room, and only you on his mind.

Your fingers trace along the muscles of his back, making his hairs raise. He moans into your mouth as his senses heightened, he wants more of your touch, more of you.

He puts his hands gently at the back of your head and around your waist as his strong arms effortlessly lifts you further up the bed.

He halts the kiss, his absence intensified your craving for him. You miss him already.

His fingers find the hem of your sweater and with a subtle motion, you shift, allowing him to slip your sweater over your head. He tosses it to the side, he feels his knees getting weak with you all soft and exposed with just your lacey bra beneath him, “You’re an angel,” he breathes.

Feeling shy, you covered your face with a pillow, “Stop it,” your voice soft and quiet.

He smiles and takes the pillow from your grasp, his fingers brushing against your own. It’s true, you’re perfect, he whispered before claiming your lips once more.

He places gentle kisses all over your face, making you giggle. He loved the sound so much that he starts nipping at your earlobes to hear more, he laughs with you. He trails wet kisses from your jaw to your neck as he catches a whiff of your perfume—inhaling and sighing against your skin.

You shudder under his touch as his large hands worked quickly to unhook your bra, setting your tits free. He buries his face against your chest with careful hands caressing them. His tongue skimming past your hardened nipples as he savors every needy whimper from you. Your whole body is tingling, you arch your back from anticipation. You’re dying for more and he knows.

He smirks against your flushed skin as you grab a fistful of his hair. Always so impatient, he teases while looking at you. A pathetic whine is all you could manage as his mouth finally closed around your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue around it as if he wanted to swallow you entirely.

You shudder as he groans onto your tits, making you squeeze your legs together. You’re so sensitive, you writhed with every little thing his tongue does to you. He bites and flicks his tongue over it, making you gasp as heat builds up inside you.

You knot your hands to his hair, pulling him into a sloppy, desperate kiss, begging breathily: Yoichi, please.

I know—he whispers in between kisses—I’ll take care of you.

Hearing the aching in your voice, he pulls away, his trembling hands reaching for your pants, peeling it off with ease.

Your mind lifts as he runs his hand slowly over the lace of your panties. His fingers brushing over your clothed clit as his mouth circles around your nipples once again, you shudder.

His breath fans against the skin of your chest, hot and shaky. He hooks his fingers over the damp cloth of your panties, pulling it to the side. He’s so slow about it, making you moan—hurry.

His heart hammers in his chest, murmuring and hushing you, I’m here.

And then finally—his fingers brush between your folds, so warm, so wet just for him.

He presses his fingers onto your swollen clit as you buck your hips while your hands grip onto his forearm, begging him to move.

And move is what he does—fingers brushing and pressing all over your wet pussy, turning you into a whining mess.

His hand leaves you as he puts his fingers inside his mouth—licking and sucking your wetness—just to bring it back between your thighs, smearing his spit all over your cunt.

Dark brown half lidded eyes watching you intently as he slowly inserts one—your mouth drops open. He stretches you, with his finger for the first time. Slowly sinking deeper and deeper. You clench around him as he pushes it all the way inside.

I can’t wait to fuck you, he murmur, his thumb pressing circles over your clit. He curls his finger inside you, hitting the right spots, eliciting sweet sounds from you.

And then he adds another, your legs start to tense.

Fuck—is all you could whimper.

Soon, he smirks before claiming your lips. His kisses become sloppy as it trailed down to your chest, his lips all over you—moaning against your skin—as his desire grows more for you.

The knot in your lower abdomen tightens as wet sounds from your pussy and your labored breathing fills his quiet room. Your fingers cards through his hair as his digits curl, pushing in and out of your dripping wet cunt, making a mess on his bedsheets.

…feels so good. So good.

Your voice is so sweet, telling him you’re so close to cumming, making his already hard cock pulse in his pants.

He’s so good with his hands, you could feel yourself trembling, clamping on his fingers inside of you. He watches you intently, anticipating for you to unravel for him but you pull him into a desperate kiss as you feel the tension snap. He moans with you as he finger fucks you through your orgasm, pleasure rolling all over you.

He makes you cum for the first time and he’s barely even done anything. He keeps his eyes on you as yours flutters while he bites lightly at your lower lip, continuously gasping into his mouth.

He places soft kisses on your forehead as your body starts to calm down, cooing, you’re lovely, and other sweet nothings. He pulls his coated fingers out from you, making you gasp and clench around nothing. He licks and sucks on it, tasting your juices as he lays beside you. He lets you rest.

You turn your head to meet his gaze. He’s still the same Yoichi; still so patient and always willing to care for you. Your heart swells when he looks back at you with affection. It’s pathetic. Almost comical how you’ve pushed him away, afraid of the implications you might cause if you stay. Just for you to crawl back to him years later, a familiar place, seeking for a different outcome—knowing full well you shouldn’t.

“Let me take care of you too,” you say softly.

You don’t wait for him to answer as you sit up on the bed, reaching for his face. You brush away the hairs sticking on his forehead.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs with his hand playing with the tips of your hair.

“But I want to,” you whisper, caressing his bulge. You lean forward and kiss him softly.

He let out a sharp breath when you move between his thighs, his eyebrows furrowing to the gentle and suggestive touch over his clothed cock. He struggles to maintain his composure, the sensation causing his body to tense slightly.

Your fingers work the belt free from the loops as his breathing grows heavier. The clink of the buckle hitting the floor echoes through the space. Slowly, teasingly, you lower the zipper, revealing the straining bulge beneath.

His hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. Desire washed over you at how desperate he already is, you want to make him feel so good.

Hooking on the waistband, you tug his pants and boxers down in a smooth motion. His erection springs free making your mouth water. He’s big, you swallow.

You wrap your trembling fingers around the base as you slowly stroke his cock, making him shudder from the warmth of your palm. He’s so hard for you.

His eyes—usually so intent and focused—begin fluttering shut, his breathing becomes shallow and you haven’t done anything yet. You spit messily on the tip of his dick. He inhales sharply as you smear it all over, making his abs flex under your palm, rippling every time he breathes.

He’s lost it, mind ascending as you swallow up his cock—slowly, all the way. The tip of your nose hits his pelvis as he twitches inside your throat. You glance up at him as you gag on him balls deep.

As you keep your eyes on him, he drinks the sight of you: Who else…? His brows knit as his mind starts to cloud with jealousy and overwhelming desire. He’s far gone, murmuring your name, slurring curses under his breath. He reaches for your hand that's caressing his abdomen, intertwining it with his.

His whimpers and groans vibrated throughout the room, moaning from the soft, wet flesh of your cheeks and tongue. You pull back all the way, only for you to swallow him whole again, licking all over the tip in between. His dick buried in your mouth, bobbing your head again and again, and again.

He promptly sits up as he pulls you to him, making you gasp. He doesn’t want to cum, not yet. Strong arms guiding you to straddle him as he kisses you with desperation, bringing your bodies closer together. His fingers tugs on the waistband of your panties.

Let me taste you.

He murmured, motioning you to sit on his face. He’s aching to taste you, to make you cum again. You obey as you take off your panties with him helping you. He reaches for your hands as he reclines back on the bed, helping you move up a little.

Your legs tremble as you plant your knees on the mattress, your dripping wet pussy hovering over his face. He nods to you with pleading eyes, asking you to go lower with hands caressing your hips—come here.

You nod as you grip onto the bed’s headboard, lowering yourself to his face. He places sweet wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, making you shudder as you clench to nothing. The heat of your pussy finally touched his lips. You’re so sweet, pretty, and wet from earlier when he fucked you with just his hands.

He knows you’re still sensitive so he glances up to you as he gently licks your slit, teasing you, too light, like kitten licks, a whimper escapes your lips—more—making his dick twitch from the sweetness of your voice. Adamant to make you feel good, he glides his tongue all over your clit adding a little pressure this time, you shudder, your legs trembling.

So wet, he murmurs. He could bathe in your wetness, your pussy dripping for him. You let go as he gestures to you to sit all the way, wanting to drown in your pretty pussy. You whine as you press yourself onto his face.

He repeatedly runs his tongue over your clit as you gradually relax yourself—mewling and bucking your hips while you ride his face. As you get louder and louder, his dick gets harder. He’s making a mess out of you as he sucks on your clit in between flicks of his tongue, your juices dripping down his chin.

He glances up to you, slowly taking your hands from the headboard as he guides you to place them over your tits. He places his hands on top of your own as you begin touching yourself. Every ounce of shame and guilt leaves your body—everything feels so good.

A smile creeps in while he watches you, almost making him cum with the thought of you using him—murmuring how he makes you feel good, how you’re so close.

He stills his tongue out as you move your hips back and forth with his hands sliding down your waist, squeezing the softness of your skin, moaning into your pussy, encouraging you to keep going.

Your whines become needy, grinding on his tongue becomes messy. He aches for it. He wants nothing more than for him to be the reason for your undoing. A couple of more rolls of your hips, a couple flicks of his tongue, the knot in your abdomen finally snap. You shudder, riding his face as you come undone for him, making him rut into nothing.

He grips on your waist to pin you in place. He keeps sucking and licking—he’s drinking you, as if wringing every drop from you while you clench around nothing. You gasp from being oversensitive, your whole body tingling.

He pulls you down, flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath his larger frame—his kiss so hungry and demanding. You moan into it as you taste yourself on his lips while he’s grinding his dick against your sensitive cunt, you cover him with your wetness. He can’t wait to make you feel even better; to make a mess out of you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, he’s feverishly hot to the touch. He breaks away from the kiss, his weight suspended over you. You lean into his touch as he palms your cheek, his eyes searching your face, panting: Tell me you want me like I want you.

His voice is throaty, shaky, desperate. Eyes so eager and intense it could pierce right through you. He looks so lovesick that it almost hurts.

I want you, Yoichi.

Please, I need you—you choke on your sob.

He could almost feel himself ascending with the way you’re begging him, the feeling of you wanting him, offering yourself so willingly. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting, he’s dying to be inside you anyway. He pulls away a little, his hand dwarfing your waist, the other holding his dick to tease your entrance with his tip.

His precum mixes with your wetness as you lift your hips—bucking and aching for more of him. He stays like that for a while with his hands spreading your legs wide open.

Look at you, he murmurs. You swear you can almost see the hearts swimming in his eyes with the way he’s looking at you, you could cry. If only, you thought. He’s gonna give it to you, pour himself to you—all of it. All of me, he thinks. He was yours from the start anyway, even though he knows after all this you’re gonna run away like you always do.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, he shudders as you squeeze it, gliding your palms back and forth, hard and throbbing in your hands. He watches you with mouth slightly open, keeping his eyes focused, tracking your hand on him, exhaling, “Fuck—”

“I need you, hurry,” you beg breathlessly.

His brows furrowed as he moves lower, you hold onto his arms as he slides his cock from your clit to your entrance—gathering his precum and your wetness—fucking you through your folds. His breaths become fast and heavy, eyes locked on your pussy wide open for him.

He stops, he’s about to finally do it, and you can feel it. He slaps his length lightly over your swollen clit a couple of times, making you gasp. He pushes it in, slowly, just the tip. You look into each other’s eyes as you moan at the same time. He’s filling you up, stretching your walls. He’s going to make love to you—for the very first time—and you will take it; you will let him.

He shudders, breath shaky and heavy—Fuck, you’re so wet—slurring his words.

You clench on his dick as he pushes in further, he’s so snug inside you, so fucking hard for you. All you could do is whimper and hold onto him as you try accomodating to his size.

God, you feel so good. You’re squeezing me—he says, every word soft and airy—making your toes curl on his soft bed sheets—while he pushes his throbbing length deeper and deeper.

Your mouth drops open as he bottoms out, taking him balls deep. He leans closer to you, claiming your lips—sloppy, messy kisses as he pulls his cocks all the way out and thrusts all the way in, you moan into each other’s mouth.

He fucks you a little harder. So good, you fuck so good, you’re slurring your words. Your moans so sweet making him fuck you a litte faster, his cock throbbing inside you, his bedsheets absorbing the wetness gushing from your cunt.

He slows down, pulling away from the kiss. Look at it, he murmurs as you both watch his cock sinking down your dripping pussy. His brows knit with his mouth open as he watches himself move in and out of you—your wetness coating his entire length, creaming at the base—his groans thick with pleasure: Look how you’re taking me.

His hands meet the back of your knees, folding you, spreading your legs open for him. Your moans turn into sweet sobs of his name as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, with your legs above his shoulders. His breaths thick and heavy fanning over your contorted face.

The flesh of your thighs ripple every time his hips collide into you. His room once so quiet now filled with slapping wet sounds and your whines as he fucks you hard, your head slightly hitting the headboard while his cock hits all the right spots. He leans in for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips.

You breathe out—Why?

He slows down his pace, rolling his hips you can feel him in your belly. He shakes his head and smiles, murmuring before kissing you again—you drive me insane.

Your mind goes numb as he puts his weight on you, folding you further in half. His hands snaked your back and settled on your shoulders, keeping you in place as he thrust himself deeper. You become a teary whining mess, begging for more as he bottoms out. Your walls clench around his cock, drooling all over his sheets. He sinks deeper, burying himself inside you, he’s making sure you’d remember him and you’d feel him for days after you leave.

He lifts you with him as he sits up, bringing you closer to him, he wants nothing more than the warmth of your skin. You wrap your arms and legs around him, slurring—I’m close, Yoichi.

I know, I got you, he coos. His voice is so sweet, so full of affection for you.

You can see his face clearly—mouth agape, breathing heavily with his eyes in a dreamlike state—as you grind down on him. His shuddering, his hands traveling all over your back down to your ass, squeezing, spreading you open as he fucks you deep.

You clench around him as you roll your hips over him again and again, your pussy swallowing him whole, chasing your high as you fuck yourself with his cock, telling him how good he’s fucking you. His eyes struggle to keep his gaze fixed on you as his eyes roll back from pleasure, mumbling curses under his breath.

Possessiveness hazing his mind. His lips meet your skin, placing wet kisses to your neck down to your chest, biting, sucking until it stings—marking what’s his. He’s worshiping you, murmuring your name, telling you how you’re so beautiful and how your pussy takes him so well, desperate to show how much he wants you, that he’s the only one who could make you feel this good.

His hands abruptly grips your waist, making you stop. You can feel him throbbing inside you as he breathes heavily against your skin, “What’s wrong?” You pant, concerned.

He chuckles, swallowing in between heavy breaths, holding you tightly against him, “Fuck, sorry, I just-” he looks up to you, his cheeks flushed, skin glistening, searching your face, “I don’t want this to be over.”

Your expression softens, like everything within you is melting. He’s so pretty, you could cry, “It’s okay,” you whisper, pushing his hair up from his sweaty forehead before cupping his face—a tender kiss, “You can have me again.”

He wasted no time, everything he’s holding back, he lets go. Pushing you back on the bed, he pins your hands above your head, your foreheads meet, sweat mixing. He fucks you deeper—face to face—with his other hand on the small of your back, thrusting you into him.

You exchange heavy, shaky breaths as he moves in and out of you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock as you chase your release alongside him, craving for more friction with him inside you.

He gets sloppier, his thrusts, his words, slurring vulgar things to you—voice thick with pleasure. He releases his hand on your wrist to grab the cheeks of your ass, lifting you. He’s thrusting steadily and deeply, burying his cock so far inside you can’t think of anything else but him fucking you.

You clench around him, you’re close—it’s building up. Your pussy drools everytime he plunges inside you, dripping down your ass onto his bed.

I’m so close—he groans, breathy and desperate—I wanna fill you up—he chokes on his gasp—Can I?

Yes, yes, Yoichi, please I want it.

Fuck—he gasps—so fucking good to me.

Your moaning gets louder, arching your back as his thrusts gets messier, fucking you a little faster, you’re about cum: Yoichi, I’m—

The pleasure hits, your walls clenching, squeezing all around his cock. He’s hitting all the right spots making you a whining mess as you ride out your orgasm with your eyes rolling back, your hearing getting dull.

He leans forward to kiss you sloppily, his breaths shaky as he moans into your mouth. His thrusts become messier, I’m cumming—gonna fill you up, yeah? He murmurs against your lips. You’re still clenching around him, milking his cock for cum as you feel the warmth shooting inside you.

He fucks you lazily, cum gushing out of you with every slow thrust. He’s groaning against your neck, his brows knitted and eyes shut as you hold him tightly in an embrace. You feel all sticky and sweaty, and so debauched under him as his dick throb inside you.

He stays inside you for a while, bodies limp as the two of you come down from your high. Both of you so fucked out. Slowly, you become aware of everything around you. It’s quiet with just the sounds of your breathing.

He lifts his head to face you, he plants a soft kiss on your lips before pulling his still hard cock, a glistening white mess. You clench around nothing, his cum dripping out of you with his eyes on your pussy. Fuck—he sighs.

He asks, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

He peppers your face with kisses, his voice laced with mischief, “That we can go again?”

You chuckle, “Mhm.”

He was relentless. The two of you went on and on and on—you almost regretted saying yes everytime he asked one more. The last thing you could remember was his lips against your forehead as the room began to brighten from the morning sun. He was whispering sweet nothings while he played with your fingers before you eventually passed out.

┊┊┊

Shitshitshit—you whisper. You’re hastily getting dressed while Nagumo remains fast asleep, his back facing you. With a trembling hand, you reach for the doorknob, carefully and quietly opening the door to his bedroom as you prepare to leave.

As you stand still and glance at his sleeping figure over your shoulder, you feel overwhelmed with regret at having to go through this cycle again, wishing for things to have turned out differently. But sometimes life is funny like that.

He looks so peaceful as he sleeps, reminding you of his consistent kindness towards you. Your thoughts turn to the disruption you always bring into his life, making you wince inwardly.

It’s a shame, you were too late.

As you sneak across the hallway and into the living room, you hunt for your belongings. While looking around, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your eyes widened in horror at the sight of the numerous love marks he had left on your skin. Thank fucking god for scarfs.

Upon reaching the foyer, you spot your coat and bag on the floor, remembering how it all went down between you and him. You grimace—what was I thinking?—as you put on your coat and pull out the scarf from your bag, wrapping it around your neck to hide evidence of your impulsive decision.

You freeze after hearing movements from his bedroom. You swear you haven’t put shoes on that fast in your life as you dashed through the door.

As you settle yourself in a taxi cab, you become aware of the aches in your body. Looking out the window, you ponder about last night’s escapade. Very very stupid move, you thought, shame and regret gnawing at you. But you couldn’t deny how good he was, if anything, he’s the best you’ve had. He made you feel so desirable, so cared for, so loved—

Love? Are you serious? You unintentionally tighten your fist as you feel a smile creeping in. A strange sensation breaks you away from your thoughts, you look at your hand. There it is, Nagumo’s wedding ring, hanging loosely around your ring finger.

Huh?

What was he thinking?

You faintly remember him playing with your fingers before falling asleep from exhaustion.

That clown.

He’s so childish.

I’ll mail it to Taro.

Your hand rummages around your bag as you search for your phone but it’s nowhere to be found. You let out a deep sigh with a frown on your face, thinking about the series of unfortunate events that seemed never-ending.

You carefully feel around the pocket area of your coat—Oh, it’s here. Reaching inside, you grab your phone, but upon pulling it out, something accidentally slipped out and fell.

Picking it up from the carpeted taxi floor, you mumble, “What’s this?”

A polaroid?

As you study it, you recall the photo that was lying on the dashboard of his car. It’s a little crumpled but it’s quite new. Annoyance starts creeping in: That little shit and his pranks.

This is taking it too far.

You start taking offense: He cheats on his wife with me and now he puts her picture in my pocket?

You shoved it inside your bag and took off his ring from your finger. For safekeeping, you decide to put it in one of the pockets of your bag. As you were about to drop it, you saw a detail from the ring. Curious, you look closely, checking the engraved details inside—it’s the same as your initials. Weird.

Puzzled, you instinctively pull out the photo again. You keep studying it, you can't see her face properly with her back almost facing the camera. Feeling a tinge of jealousy from her mysterious nature, you brush it off quickly. It’s a stolen shot, you observe.

You couldn’t take your eyes off it, something is weirdly familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it is. The place looks familiar, it’s like you’ve been there before. That’s impossible, you think.

You ponder, Taro did mention Nagumo travels a lot. Maybe he takes her with him? Your heart starts to pick up when you recognize what she’s wearing—I have one like this too.

Wait.

The place was the beach you went to earlier this year. Slowly, it starts dawning on you.

No fucking way.

With a trembling hand on your mouth, you question—

Is this me?

You look closely, eyes frantically scanning the photograph with your breath stuck in your throat. You start to recognize yourself: the hair, the dress, the wine in hand, the white sand, the sunset.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you mumble, “It is me.”

But how?

[chapter 5 ->]

[akimoroll]

giving in to the love.

chapter 2. everyone adores you (at least I do)

nagumo yoichi (sakamoto days) x afab!reader—wc 3k—alternate universe—read on ao3

chapters 1 — 3 — 4 — 5

cw—mentions of abuse and death. alcoholism. smoking. fluff. angst. eventual smut. aged up characters with highschool flashbacks.

Everybody has you up on their wall sometimes

Everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night

When I say, "Everybody, " I'm actually referring to mе

Nagumo has always been observant. Whether he liked it or not, he just noticed things. So when he became aware of you and your gloomy demeanor, it was more of a ‘What’s wrong with her?’ than anything else.

You didn’t socialize with the class, you were always staring out the window or sneaking into the back of the school building or climbing up the rooftop with students from other classes.

He would see Aoi approach you every once in a while but you’d only give her half smiles and one word replies. This made group activities especially hard for you. Not until Nagumo’s parents took Rion in.

Rion was a month late but blended in with the class with ease. He noticed Rion and you started to click, being seatmates made it convenient.

In a few weeks, Nagumo noticed you were smiling and talking more but only with Rion. Then you slowly started to mingle with the other girls. It’s as if Rion was the bridge for you to connect with everyone until you were comfortable doing it with the whole class.

Nagumo didn’t really think much about it until you started coming to his house to hang out with Rion. He wasn’t the type to lounge around the living room, he’s always upstairs in his room or at basketball practice. But on days where he’s at home he started going downstairs more frequently.

There was one time while he was getting snacks from the fridge and he heard you laughing in the living room. Not giggle, not chuckle but a full blown laughter, it was almost unrecognizable. He was curious so he peeked. You and Rion were watching a movie and you looked so happy and he thought he’d want to see that again. He wanted to hear it again so he tried pulling jokes on you in school. He would tease Rion in front of you and then he started teasing you too, but it wasn’t working like he wanted to because you were getting annoyed with him. But he still liked it, it’s better than nothing, he thought. He enjoyed seeing different reactions from you.

However, something changed in him during his birthday in July after your classmates had already left. It was one of the hottest summer evenings and you were wearing a hoodie. He came out of the kitchen, leaving Rion and his mom alone to clean up because he wanted to check up on you. Well, it was more because he wanted to make fun of your fashion choices. He was so smug about it but you smiled so sweetly at him and said, “My mom hates me and I’m trying to hide that hate from everyone so they wouldn’t hate me too.”

His smile slowly dropped. What do you mean? is what he wanted to ask. But he realized how sad you were all the time and even though you’re doing better these days, your eyes still looked tired, like they’re always so far away. Like you’re physically here but your soul isn’t.

He shook his head, “Stop joking around like that,” letting out a fake chuckle.

“Do you want a birthday gift?” You asked softly.

His eyebrows knitted, “You already gave me one.”

“This one’s different,” you said.

Apart from Rion, Nagumo was always around you, trying to get a reaction from you. You’re not stupid, it was obvious how he was always trying to brighten up your day. He’s been taking down every brick from the wall you put up around you and you always wondered how it would be nice to open up to someone like him.

You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you just felt like you wanted him to take a look inside, just a little sneak peek. Maybe like a cry for help? Like, ‘I’m here! Someone’s still alive here!’ even if it’s just with him and this moment alone.

His eyes progressively widened as you took off your jacket, showing him black and blue patches all over your skin, some bigger and darker than the others. And just like any other gift that he had, he wanted to take care of it—to take care of you.

It made him want to protect you, no questions asked. But he didn’t want to pry any further so he just did his best to make your days better in his own little way. And until you let him in, he’d keep looking out for you.

⊹

“Hello?” Nagumo said, tilting his head, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.

He didn’t want to pick up but he’s been getting calls from the same unknown number for two days straight now and it’s getting annoying.

“Nagumo,” the man from the other line spoke.

He stopped what he’s doing, “Sakamoto?” now holding the phone with his hand, “You changed your number?”

“No, I borrowed Shin’s,” there was a long pause before saying your name, “You might wanna see her, next week.”

Nagumo paused, bewildered, “What? I don’t understand,” looking out the window of his hotel room.

“You heard me,” Taro said in a passive tone, “I know you’re busy but you should tie loose ends with her so you can finally carry on with your life.”

Nagumo hummed, his voice hesitant, “I don’t know, man,” he murmured.

“Up to you,” Taro said, “I’ll text you the details.”

Nagumo ended the call shortly after and booked the first flight to Tokyo the following day.

⊹

As soon as he enters the venue, he spots you sitting at the far end of the table. He could never mistake you, not for someone else. Even from a mile away, he’d know it’s you.

He stalls, hands in his pockets, watching you from afar—observing you. This might be the last.

After finally deciding to make his presence known, he crossed the room in confident strides. He automatically taunts Hyo—his voice still holding the same mischievous tone—just how you remember him.

Like the life of the party he is, he says hello to everyone—fist bumps, high fives and the like. He takes his time, pretending he’s not excited to see you. As if he wasn’t already losing his mind over it for the past week after Taro called—which he thankfully answered, because he usually doesn’t these days—telling him you might show up.

You could feel him getting closer to where you are. Hands fidgeting under the table, you start to question everything.

What if I make a fool of myself?

What if I say hi and he’s still mad at me?

Come on, it was a long time ago. We’re grown now.

But what if he ignores me?

Wait, was he mad back then? Fuck, I don’t remember shit.

I could use a stick right now but this will do. You gulp down the mug full of beer while his figure enters your peripherals.

“You’re here,” he smirks. Dying to keep his cool, he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

All the tension in your body leaves after hearing his voice. You turn to him, smiling, “I’m here,” you speak softly.

He remains still, gaze fixed on you. It’s as if everything around him starts to slow down after seeing your face light up.

You inwardly thank the alcohol for the natural blush. It would’ve been so obvious by the way he made your cheeks heat up. Has he always looked this good?

After witnessing your moment with Nagumo unfold before her, Osaragi whispers, “Hyo, do they have history?”

Shishiba who’s seated in between her and Hyo, “It’s rude to ask questions like that to a married man,” his voice low.

“That’s why I’m asking Hyo,” she deadpans.

“Nagumo,” Hyo’s voice cuts in, “I heard you got married.”

His tone provokes, “Did I, now?” Shamelessly staring at you. He looked so smitten, they all felt like they were interrupting something.

You turn your eyes away from him after hearing what Hyo just said.

Right, I shouldn’t be gawking at him like that.

⊹

As the night wears on, you keep catching him stealing glances at you, or is it him that’s caught you? Both preoccupied with their own little conversation—him with the boys and you with the girls—you wait for the right timing to talk to him alone.

I should apologize.

You have to, for you, to finally move on. It’s the least you could do for him too. You were young and naive—you were in so much pain and he was too but he was there for you; always looking out for you.

⊹

“What’s that?” Rion’s head popped behind you, “who’s that from?”

“I don’t know,” you said while looking at the ice pack and painkillers left in your locker. But you knew. You caught Nagumo looking numerous times in class. He pays attention to you. He always does.

He noticed the bruise on your cheek—your mom gave you the night before—despite wearing a facemask. He noticed your puffy eyes that morning and the hoodie you would wear when you’re trying to cover something up. He didn’t have it in him to ask you about it, he didn’t want to pry, but he knew.

You were too embarrassed to ask about his kind gesture and he didn’t mention it either. He was just being nice. That’s all there is to it.

⊹

“Mind if I sit here?” Placing his hands on your shoulders, Nagumo didn’t wait for you to answer. He gently motions you to scooch to the left and inserts himself in the space you give him.

His touch lingers as he starts conversing with Aoi and Taro with you stuck in the middle. His arm would brush against you every now and then, and you’d catch whiffs of his cologne. You were forced to sit in their conversation, nodding and smiling along quietly.

“How’s Hana doing?” Nagumo asks the couple.

Taro responds, “She started school recently. Shin and Lu are looking after her tonight.”

“Hey, Nagumo, why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” Aoi interrogates with a lighthearted tone. You take a quick look at his hand on the table, he does have a ring. He has tattoos now too.

He chuckles, “It was something spontaneous,” he paused, pondering, “and intimate.”

“Are you guys planning to have kids too?” She adds.

He tilts his head to the side as he answers, “We haven’t talked about it,” you look over to him with curiosity only for you to see that he’s already looking at you.

He averts his eyes to his drink, grinning, “My dream of forming a basketball team still stands, though.” You watch him chug his drink from the corners of your eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He joked about that a long time ago—he’s such a clown. You chuckle inwards, eyes distant, you wonder what he’d be like as a father. His wife must be so lucky to have someone as dependable as him, his children would absolutely love him and his shenanigans.

Nagumo mentions your name and you almost leap, “What about you? What are you up to these days?”

Just work—drowning myself with work so I don’t have to feel anything else outside of it. The pay is good, though. Which reminds me, I haven’t met new people recently. Not that I don’t have time, I just drink a lot these days at home. It used to be just weekends, and then I started picking up the habit even on weekdays. Mom died too and I don’t know what to feel about it. I’m tired, honestly—

“Just work,” you force a smile and drain your drink clean. You let out a satisfied ‘ah’.

The crowd from another booth were having a little too much to drink and started lifting their phones in the air, pointing the flashlights down to mimic a disco ball while one of them sang the karaoke. Everyone starts cheering with them as you sway discreetly along the music, grateful that the conversation was cut short.

A flash catches your eye, you grimace, squeezing eyes shut. Your heart starts to pick up.

Then another one—you start to feel lightheaded as the music starts to sound muffled and the clinking of utensils and glasses make you jumpy. Breathing becomes hard as you feel a fullness in your throat down to your chest.

And again—you start sweating, your clothes suddenly feel tight, the place starts to feel cramped like it’s closing in on you. It’s happening again.

Happy thoughts…

Your cat back home,

Just happy thoughts…

—and how she sleeps with her tongue slightly out.

Deep breaths…

You think about the sounds of crashing waves and the warm breeze blowing against your skin and how calming it is.

Relax…

And then the full view of the setting sun while you sit by the shore with your feet in the sand and wine in your hand.

Right, Boracay…

I need to go back there.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel it leaving you. Leaning closer to Aoi, “I’m gonna catch some fresh air real quick,” you whisper and she nods.

⊹

With your back leaning against the wall of an alleyway, you shiver while lighting up a cigarette. You fold your arms to keep yourself warm as you take quick long drags, burning half of the stick in an instant.

“That’s your idea of fresh air?” Nagumo walks up to you, hands in the pockets of his coat, grinning.

With a lighthearted scoff, “You smoke?” you offer him some as he stands beside you side by side.

Shaking his head, “Nah, but thanks.”

“Figures,” you take it back, shoving it in your coat pocket.

He shivers from the cold, leaning at the wall next to you, your sides brushing against each other, “You still haven’t quit that bad habit of yours,” he says as he tilts his head to look at the sky.

You smile, “Old habits die hard,” eyes distant.

He chuckles while pulling out a snack from the inside of his coat.

Eyes trailing to his wedding ring, you watch him open the packet, “I see you still got a sweet tooth,” averting your gaze.

In a smug tone, “It’s because I have taste,” he takes a bite, “even with bad habits.”

You both chuckle.

⊹

You were quietly giggling with Rion in their living room, accidentally mentioning Gaku—a boy from another class—out loud.

“Gaku? Really now?” Nagumo chimed in, shocked.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Rion scoffed, throwing a pillow at him.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug, “he’s your teammate, right?”

He shook his head from disbelief. You’re unbelievable, is what he wanted to say. But instead, “Your taste is interesting,” he continued scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, okay. I get it,” you walk up to him as he lies on the couch, an eyebrow raised, “Let’s talk about your taste then.”

You nod to him, crossing your arms, standing directly in front of him, “Get up.”

He got up, towering over you, “I’m up,” smirking.

You glared at him—

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Rion said, pulling you both to sit, “this is not a contest of bad tastes,” she and Nagumo snickered.

You scoffed and was so ready to speak but you couldn’t even name one person that you think he likes. Thinking back, girls would be all over him but you’ve never seen him flirting back or be around one. Well, except you, but you’re out of the equation.

Nagumo sighed, standing up, “This is stupid,” he walks out, “I’m gonna go do homework.”

You and Rion followed him with your eyes.

“He’s moody these days. Don’t mind him,” said Rion.

⊹

“How are you not drunk yet?” Nagumo asks, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I saw you getting refills like it’s water.”

Like mother, like daughter, I guess?

You tilt your head to the side, shrugging, voice smug, “I look up to my mom a lot,” taking a long drag from your now second stick.

“Dark,” he says, fakely reprimanding you.

He made you spend almost half an hour in the alleyway catching up with him, ‘I’m trying to sober up’ he said. Until there wasn't anything to talk about anymore. You were both silent for a moment.

“You still have them?” He asks abruptly, his voice gentle.

Feigning ignorance, “Have what?” you answer.

He paused before speaking, “Panic attacks.”

You breathe deeply, “Sometimes,” eyes faraway, “but not as bad as before.”

Nagumo nods slowly, both of you thinking about the elephant in the room.

“Look,” the two of you utter in unison.

Both startled, you face each other, “You first,” in unison again, making both of you cackle.

“Ladies first,” he says, nodding to you.

Your expression softens, eyes apologetic, “I know it’s long overdue but I wanted to say sorry… for everything.”

His brows knit, “No, no, I should be the one apologizing—”

“Look, you were just trying to be nice,” you cut him off, “and I was mean. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“You were going through something,” he leans on the wall on his back, eyes distant.

“You were too, and that’s not a reason to treat people like shit, Yoichi.”

Silence.

“Just apologize about Gaku and we can call it quits.”

You squint, puzzled by the mention of his name.

With a growing grin, he waits for your reaction. Then it hits you, you burst out laughing and he watches you—eyes crinkled, head tilted to the sky, a hand hovering your mouth—his heart swells from the sound of your laughter.

“I can’t believe you picked a fight with him,” you shake your head, “and in an official game too, with other schools watching.” You laugh again.

“Well,” tilting his head from side to side, “It was partly your fault,” he snickers.

Your mouth falls open, a smile creeping in, “I wasn’t the one who busted your lip,” you hit his arm lightly.

Nagumo looks at your lips and back to your eyes in an instant, “He was your boyfriend, so…” he trails off.

You groan, “He wasn’t,” rolling your eyes, you sigh, “It’s crazy how I used to chase guys who doesn’t give a fuck about me.” You chuckle.

He hums, “Mhm,” it left a bitter taste on his tongue.

You avoid his gaze, fishing your pocket for another cigarette. You were staring at each other for a moment too long and it felt like he wanted to say something and you know exactly what it is.

[chapter 3 →]

[akimoroll]

nightfall.

yoichi nagumo x fem reader—wc 2.2k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fwb. fluff/smut. mdni.

n/a: continuation of this. if you’re an art student reading this, i apologize!! i know nothing about art school (cries) /// this feels like a filler episode tbh kinda boring and uneventful to me at least lmao so sorry in advance

Tutoring sessions with Nagumo are over and you haven't seen him for over two weeks because of exams. He messaged you a few times during evenings for the first few days but other than that, it was complete utter silence from him. You have gotten used to his presence and it did bother you how quiet he has been. But you weren’t the type to text first, you didn’t even like texting at all. He was being distant so you thought, maybe this was his way of showing push.

Meanwhile, Nagumo was busy staying up in the late hours of the night meeting deadlines, and dealing with the weighty pressure and vulnerability of critiques. But other than that, he was pretty much holed up in his room with a dark cloud of stress over his head. He might have even lost a bit of weight too.

“Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?” He asked you last time you saw each other, to which you said yes. Now that exams are over, he hasn’t made contact yet, not that you were eagerly waiting for his message or anything… Of course not. That’s silly, right?

But you do miss him… Maybe a little bit. “Just his face,” you mused, downplaying whatever it was you were feeling.

As you unlocked your phone, you pursed your lips and went to Instagram. You tried searching for his name (and nickname) but couldn’t find anything. As frustration built up, you turned to your roommate who had just entered the room and asked for her help.

His username had 9 underscores as if he didn’t want to be found. But weirdly enough, for a normal college dude, slash frat boy, slash art student that posted normal college stuff, he had a lot of followers. The accounts he followed were mostly girls, but one stood out—a private account with no display photo. 1 follower, 1 following and hundreds of posts.

Who could that be? You were curious for a hot minute but saw a really cute selfie of him and spent a good chunk of time staring at it. Before you knew it, you had burned the next hours making folders and meticulously sorting the pictures you’ve saved, just as you would with your trading cards collection.

///

The gentle knocking from the door startled you from your sleep. The room was already bright and your roommate had left. Glancing at the bright screen of your phone, you winced before getting up. It’s 9 past 7.

As soon as you opened the door, Nagumo rushed in without a word and immediately began kissing you. He was unusually quiet, almost eerily so, while his hands slipped under your shirt and roamed the skin of your back. You couldn’t say a word with the way he was practically eating your face. He seemed much like a man who had been walking for hours in the scorching heat, chasing you like a tall glass of cold water. He was parched.

He led you to your corner of the room and onto your bed. His body hovering over yours, lips not letting you go. Moments later, you were already naked under him. His hands explored places he hadn’t touched before, his tongue teased the most sensitive spots, turning you into a soaked mess.

He kissed you deeply before letting you go, only to flip you on your stomach with ease. The hairs on the skin of your back raised when his lips grazed your nape, gently trailing their way down your spine. Then he slowly inserted a finger and a few moments later, he added another. His fingers knuckles deep inside you.

There was nothing but the sound of your quiet whimpers and the wet sounds of his kisses as he began preparing you for something else, something that might be too much, something you have found yourself anticipating for. You couldn’t help but moan his name.

“Yoichi…”

Hearing this, he paused, leaving you so hot and bothered. As you waited for what’s to come next, you felt movement behind you and heard fabric rustling—he’s slipping out of his boxers.

He began rubbing his tip to your wet folds as he spread your cheeks wide open, smearing and mixing his and your wetness all over, with his fingers digging the flesh of your ass. Everything was happening way too fast. It felt conflicting but you knew deep down you didn’t want him to stop.

Softly, tenderly, he pushed himself in and out of you. He’s fucking you slowly with your name rolling so sweetly on his tongue like honey—again and again and again.

“Look at you… such a good girl.” He cooed, his voice airy with his lips over your ear. His warmth reached the skin of your back, enveloping you as he rested his whole body on top of you with your face buried in the pillow.

“Lift your hips a little...”

“There you go. Just like that.”

“Fuck…you feel so good.”

And he feels so good too. He kept murmuring your name as he fucks you lazily, your eyes rolling back every time he pushes himself balls deep into you. He was making a mess out of you, your juices dripping down on your clean sheets. Suddenly you didn’t care about getting your bed dirty anymore.

One of his hands began snaking towards your tits, giving it a soft squeeze before lifting your face by the jaw, his two fingers coaxing your lips to open.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered before slowly turning your head so you could face him. You kept your eyes closed as you reluctantly opened your mouth, his tattooed fingers forcing you to taste yourself, “See how good you taste?”

“Open your eyes…look at me.” he murmured, giving each of your eyes a cute kiss before reaching down with his other hand, rubbing slow circles on your clit, just enough pressure to make you squirm under him.

Him seeing you so fucked out and breathless so early in the morning made him fuck you a little faster. And then a little harder. Your whimpery sobs became louder as he continued to thrust himself into you from the back.

“You close? You’re squeezing me.”

“I know you missed me. Let’s take our time, hm?”

“Come on, open your eyes.”

“Look at me.”

“Wake up.”

Wake up?

Your eyes shot up, realizing you had fallen asleep while waiting for him at a diner near campus. You agreed to have brunch together when he finally called in the morning.

That’s what you get when you stay up way too late looking at his pictures. But none of that matters now. Bewildered, you mused, “Wet dreams? Here? Of all places?”

“Falling asleep in public is so unlike you. Are you okay?” He smirked, voice laced with teasing as he sat across from you.

You exhaled deeply as you hid your flushed face with your hands. You couldn’t dare to look at him.

He tilted his head to the side, now with concern, he asked, “Looks like you stayed up late last night. I thought exams were over?”

“Yes, it is over,” you responded immediately. With your voice still raspy, you snapped at him, “I fell asleep because…I waited too long.”

He scoffed lightheartedly before leaning closer to you with a smug grin on his face, “Someone’s excited to see me. I’m not even late.”

You looked at him after checking the time. Frowning from grogginess, you asked nicely, “Can you go ahead and order us food? I can’t form a single thought.”

He looked at you for a moment and noticed how your forehead was glistening with your face all red, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get takeout and eat someplace else if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Nagumo. Please, just order the food.”

///

You continued eating your meal in complete silence, embarrassment still lingering in your mind. Nagumo, on the other hand, kept glancing at you with concern. Eventually, he asked, “So… Friday, movies, right? Unless you have something else in mind?”

“What? I’m not thinking about anything else,” you retorted after a slight flinch.

He responded with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out your mood, “Okay…? I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Sure,” you replied way too quickly, voice low as you kept your eyes to your food.

He watched you, observing and wondering why you were being quiet and wouldn’t meet his gaze. You typically spoke too little and had a habit of staring. But you were acting strange, almost defensive, like you were hiding something. Reminiscent of that time when you had a misunderstanding, moments before he kissed you for the first time.

“Hey, be a good girl and quit picking at your food,” He teased, attempting to lift the mood and ease you into talking more.

But “good girl” was all you heard. You abruptly locked eyes as you involuntarily inhaled your food, getting it stuck in your throat. He quickly handed you a drink, worry evident on his face while you uncontrollably coughed.

After chugging the drink to its final drop and slamming the glass on the table with more force than necessary, you inhaled deeply and finally spoke, “Never say that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, he asked, “Not say what?”

“That. What you just said.”

“Not…pick at your food?”

“No,” you groaned, opening your mouth just to close it again as your cheeks started to heat up once more. You collected yourself as you continued, “Nevermind.”

He caught your reaction right away. The small smile he was holding turned into a full blown grin, he teased, “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” you retorted with a defensive hiss.

“Nothing,” he breathed deeply and shifted his gaze out the glass window, pausing before speaking again, “You got me worried there. But it looks like your other personality has come out to play today and taught me something new.”

“If you don’t stop bringing that up, I’ll leave right now,” You exclaimed as you reached for your bag.

He snickered and stood up, sliding his food next to yours and took a seat beside you to block you from leaving. He gently nudged his arm against yours, “Oh come on, we just got here.”

You answered him with a mere eye roll and turned away from him to gaze out the window.

“Hey,” He ran his fingers through your hair, twirling at the tips, his voice gentle, “Look at me.”

You quickly turned to his direction to warn him time and time again to stop touching you unexpectedly. However, his lips touched your cheek, making you blush once again. He smirked, enjoying how endearing you are and wanting to continue stirring your flustered state, he whispered, “I missed you.”

You took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the smile that threatened to come out as you spoke up, your voice softer than intended, “Nagumo, I told you not to touch me so suddenly.”

He nodded and continued eating as if nothing happened. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why were you up so late last night anyway? Thought you have schedules and stuff.”

As you calmed down, you answered honestly, “I was feeling restless.”

He chuckled, “Bet you were thinking of me.”

Your bluntness continued as you went back to eating as well, “Yes, but also, no. I was actually wondering why there are so many underscores in your username. It seems quite inefficient for typing. Also, the topless pics, seriously? Have some decorum. And while we are on the subject of decorum, apart from your friends, you only follow people from the opposite sex. What’s up with that?”

Like always, he was surprised and slightly taken aback by your honesty but the thought of you stalking his socials made him nearly choke on his food. You had always been distant, didn’t ask questions about himself, he was the one constantly reaching out. He had gotten used to you not paying much attention to him, just hanging out with you was enough for him. So hearing everything and you being so blunt about it, made him feel things.

He teased with an accusatory tone, “Oh, so you were stalking me. You could’ve just messaged me and told me you miss me, you know?”

You retorted, “Why would I? That’s exactly what you want me to do.”

He pressed further, grinning, “So you did miss me.”

“I didn’t say that,” you stubbornly denied, your voice sounding firm.

“Why were you looking me up then?” He inquired, his tone laced with intrigue.

You pondered for a good while, carefully choosing the right words before responding, “You need to know your opponent in order to defeat them, correct?”

He smirked, a hint of challenge in his voice as he rested his cheek on his palm, observing you, “This is all just a game to you, hm?”

You mirrored him, speaking calmly, “I could say the same about you.”

He nodded, suppressing a chuckle by smiling, “Well played, but you’re not supposed to show your hand to me.”

You smiled back, “What makes you think I’ve shown you everything?”