Tomoe who's ears flatten to the top of his head when showing affection- like a little puppy. Or should I say fox?
Tomoe who when you start scolding him for attacking anyone, especially in public flattens his ears and nudges his head under your neck, pouting and acting innocent. Yes, it is an obvious manipulation to get out of your lecture about blah blah harming humans or what not- but it works. You cant help but get flustered when he acts so sweet and nuzzles into your neck! And plus he's in the perfect position for you to play with his fluffy ears.
Tomoe who smirks letting you play with his ears, staring fox fire at the human he attempted cooking for dinner tonight. The human runs off, not understanding how you cant see how evil the fox yokai is.
In your defense, Tomoe wasn't an innocent fox, but he rarely let you play with his ears. You had to take advantage!
Tomoe who carries you off back home a pleased look on his forever cocky face as you consider chomping on his fox ears.
⟢ ABSTRACT ˘ Hugo knows for sure that moving to England and meeting you was fated. There’s no doubt in his mind that you and him are meant to be this lifetime…there's just one small issue. Neither of you speak the other’s language.
. ⟢CONTENT + WARNINGS — fluff. no major warnings. dialogue in italics = french. its implied that reader has lived in the uk most of their life. (reader doest have to be british tho). not proofread!! ˘ WC 1.2k
. ⟢ AN ˘ this was requested!
Hugo arrived in England from France about two months and a half ago.
After his most recent transfer to Arsenal, he was quick to move into his new apartment in London, which although not fully furnished, already felt like home to him.
Within the first week of his move, he was pretty familiar with his neighbourhood.
And by that he means he only knew where his local M&S and gym were, but that was pretty much all he needed anyways. Hugo also got friendly with some of the fellow residents in his floor and they all seemed to thankfully take a liking to him even though they haven’t shared much words, but overall it’s safe to say he has been adapting to his new way of life fairly well and that everything was going rather smoothly.
That was until he met you, of course.
You were the last neighbour he met, yet left the biggest impression so far. He can vividly remember the day of your first interaction like it was two months ago…because it was, in fact, two months ago, but anyways.
He was busy preparing his dinner when he heard someone at the door. On any other occasion, he probably would’ve ignored the sound of his bell ringing since he wasn’t expecting anyone to come that night, and he barely knew anyone in the country back then. But the continuous sound of the doorbell ringing got very annoying very fast, so he found himself with no option but to see who was on the other side.
While he was ready to deal with some annoying door-to-door salesman trying to sell him rubbish, he was met with the sight of you instead. You were still in what he could guess were your work clothes, and your exhaustion was clear as day to anyone who took a single look at you, yet you were still making an effort to be courteous and smile at him.
“Good evening,” you said, and suddenly anything around Hugo became background noise. Even the sound of his kettle boiling was muffled by the sound of your voice, and the annoyance he felt earlier was gone. “I’m really sorry to disturb you. But I got a message saying a package meant for me was delivered here earlier. Do you have it by any chance?”
Hugo barely registered anything you said to him.
Maybe because you had to be the most beautiful person his eyes have ever been graced with and he couldn’t help but be completely entranced by the mere sight of you…and by the natural melody in your voice…
Or maybe because he didn’t understand shit of what you said.
He understood two words, “Sorry.” and “evening”. That was it.
All the rest sounded like gibberish.
And poor you kept on talking while he just stared at you like a dog trying to understand what their owner was saying. All that was left for him to do at that point was tilt his head sideways in confusion to completely embody a lost puppy. “You know what, nevermind. It must’ve been a mistake—”
But just as you were about to make your walk of shame back to your apartment, Hugo spoke for the first time. “Please wait.”
He didn’t mean to sound so aggressive back then. But every single fiber in his being was telling him to not let you leave so soon. “I’m sorry, what did you say…?”
His brain must’ve short circuited or something, because he couldn’t remember for the life of him what word he wanted to use that moment. All the hours he spent learning English felt like a huge waste of time. “ Tsk…shit, what's the word again.”
“Oh wait! Is that french?” The way his eyes lit up and how quick he nodded back was comical enough for you to forget how tired you were from work and let out a laugh. “Ah I see, It’s a shame I didn’t do that well in my french gcse…Would’ve come in handy now, wouldn’t it?”
“So you understand me?” The look in your face was enough for an answer.
“Look…how do I explain this… I came here to get a delivery. A package.” you gesticulated in hopes of making it more understandable, but if anyone had walked in back then, they’d probably think you were both weirdos trying to communicate with each other. “You know, a box…Boxe?” Is that how you say it?”
“Boxe? As in boxing...? You want to fight me?”
“I have a feeling I said something wrong…”
It took a good ten minutes for you to finally understand each other and for you to walk away with your delivery.
In those ten minutes, he managed to learn your name, as you still recalled the bare minimum from your French lessons back in year seven, and that you lived in the apartment down the hall.
He found it kind of weird that they’d leave your package to him instead of handing it to the concierge or the person next door to you.
But If fate led that box to his apartment, who is he to question it, right?
Hugo tried to brush off that awkward encounter as a one time incident.
However, when every single one of your packages and letters are constantly being delivered to his apartment instead of yours, he doesn’t know if he can pinpoint this to simply the postman’s incompetence.
‘Perhaps this is a sign…’ he thought.
After all, nothing happens by chance in this life. No other person is more aware of that fact than Hugo.
He knows that there’s a meaning behind all actions taken by the universe, so there was only one plausible reason as to why it kept on pushing you two together, even at the most random occasions.
Why it kept on blessing him with your presence on his doorstep every other day, and with the rich sound of your laughter when one of you makes yet another dumb mistake in the other’s language. Or why it made sure that whenever he goes out for a run or shopping, you happen to be there too — He recalls how in one of the many random encounters you’ve had at the supermarket, you caught him struggling to speak with one of the shop workers and quickly came to his rescue. That display of your kindness has stuck to him till this day — and Hugo feels like an absolute idiot for not putting all the pieces together much sooner!
You and Hugo were meant to meet each other.
That’s why his choices in life brought him to England of all places. That’s why your packages kept on being sent to his home for weeks and why, besides the language barrier, talking to you feels so easy. So natural.
And now that Hugo has finally come to this realisation, he’s being consumed by this newfound ardor to unravel what destiny had stored for you and him — starting with the first mission. Master the English language as soon as possible.
synopsis : when you thought your prom night would end sooner than it should have because of your shitty ex , leon shows up to save the day
tags : angst (reader's ex is an asshole ), fluff / comfort , leon and reader are two idiots in love . not proofread
word count : 5345
you spent two hours getting ready in your bedroom before the dance, and for what? so some guy who promised you the world could call you fifteen minutes before he was supposed to pick you up and say, “hey, something came up.”
the phone cord wrapped around your wrist while you sat on the edge of your bed in your dress, baby pink satin with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline that your mom helped you pick out three weeks ago at the mall. your other hand pressed flat against your stomach like you could hold yourself together that way. the mascara you’d applied so carefully was already starting to sting your eyes.
“something came up,” you repeated back to him, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted.
“yeah, listen, it’s complicated—”
“complicated.”
“don’t be like that. i’ll make it up to you, okay? i promise.”
the line went dead before you could say anything else. you sat there holding the receiver against your ear for another thirty seconds, listening to the dial tone hum, before you set it back in the cradle with a click that felt way too final for a phone call.
your reflection stared back at you from the vanity across the room. curled hair pinned back on one side with a small pearl clip. the necklace your grandmother gave you resting against your collarbone. new heels waiting by the door, nude pumps with a little bow on the toe. you’d practiced walking in them for a week so you wouldn’t trip during the slow dances.
your mom knocked twice before pushing the door open. “sweetheart? i thought i heard the phone—oh. oh, honey.”
she found you still sitting there with your hands folded in your lap and your lower lip trembling despite how hard you were biting down on it. the dress suddenly felt ridiculous. the shoes. the pearl clip. all of it. fuck it.
“he’s not coming,” the words hung in the air like something hit you through your aching chest. your mom’s face shifted through about five emotions in three seconds, anger, pity, more anger, helplessness, and then something gentler that settled into the lines around her mouth. she crossed the room and sat down next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight, and she didn’t say anything for a long moment. she just put her hand over yours and squeezed it gently.
“i’m so stupid,” you whispered.
“you’re not stupid baby.you got dressed up for someone who didn’t deserve it. that’s not the same thing.”
you wanted to believe her. the tightness in your chest made it hard to breathe, let alone think, and the mascara was definitely running now, you could feel it tracking down your cheeks in thin lines. your mom reached over to your nightstand and pulled a tissue from the box, handing it to you without a word.
“i don’t want to stay here,” you said after you’d wiped your face enough to see clearly. “can you just—can you drive me somewhere? anywhere. i need to get out of this house.”
“you want to go to the dance anyway?”
“no. god, no. i can’t walk in there alone. everyone will know.”
your mom was quiet again. outside your window, the late afternoon sun was starting to soften into that golden-pink color that made everything look prettier than it actually was. you’d been checking the weather all week, worried about rain, and the forecast had promised clear skies. perfect prom weather. you almost laughed.
“let me go talk to your father,” your mom said, standing up and smoothing down the front of her blouse. “you stay here. fix your makeup if you want. or don’t. either way, we’re getting you out of this house for a little while, okay?”
you nodded because it was easier than arguing. after she left, you sat there for another few minutes staring at the phone like it might ring again with an apology that actually meant something. it didn’t. the house was quiet except for the muffled sound of your parents’ voices drifting up from the kitchen—your dad’s tone low and angry, your mom’s calmer but insistent. you couldn’t make out the words. you didn’t really want to.
eventually you stood up and walked over to your vanity, leaning close to the mirror to assess the damage. your eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. the mascara had left dark smudges underneath your lower lashes that made you look like you’d been crying for hours instead of just ten minutes. your lipstick was still somehow perfect, a soft pink that your mom had let you borrow from her makeup bag.
you fixed what you could. dabbed concealer under your eyes. reapplied mascara with a steadier hand. blotted your lipstick once, twice, then pressed your lips together and stared at your reflection until the girl in the mirror looked less like someone who’d just been dumped and more like someone who might survive the night.
by the time you heard your mom’s footsteps on the stairs again, you’d pulled on a light cardigan over your dress and swapped the nude pumps for flats. the heels could stay by the door. you didn’t need them where you were going, wherever that was.
“your father’s getting the car,” your mom said, poking her head into your room. “we thought maybe we’d drive you over to the school anyway. just to see it. you don’t have to go inside, but you worked so hard on that dress, and—” she paused, her expression softening again, “and i don’t want you to remember tonight as the night you sat in your bedroom crying.”
“mom—”
“i know. i know. but trust me. just let us take you, okay? if you hate it, we’ll turn right around and get ice cream on the way home. my treat.”
a laugh bubbled up from somewhere unexpected, small and watery. “you’re bribing me with ice cream?”
“is it working?”
you looked at her standing in your doorway with her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes doing that thing where they got all shiny because she was trying not to cry for your sake. your mom had always been like that—feeling things so deeply that she couldn’t quite hide them, even when she wanted to.
“yeah,” you said. “it’s working.”
the drive to the high school took about fifteen minutes. your dad kept the radio on low, some old rock station he liked, and your mom twisted around in the passenger seat every few minutes to check on you like she was afraid you might vanish if she looked away too long. you stared out the window and watched the houses roll past, all the familiar landmarks of a town you’d known your whole life, lit up warm and golden in the fading sunlight.
the school parking lot was packed when you pulled in. cars lined up in rows and kids spilling out of them in groups, the girls in bright dresses and the boys in suits that mostly didn’t fit quite right. music thumped faintly from the gymnasium, the bass line vibrating through the walls and out into the evening air. someone had hung string lights along the walkway leading up to the main entrance, and they flickered a little as the breeze picked up.
“you want us to wait here?” your dad asked, putting the car in park.
“yeah. just—just for a minute.”
your parents exchanged a look but didn’t push you further. your mom reached back and patted your knee twice before turning to face forward, giving you the illusion of privacy even though you were still sitting in the backseat of your dad’s sedan with the windows rolled up and the radio playing softly.
you watched couples walk hand in hand toward the gymnasium doors. a girl in a lavender dress laughed at something her date said, throwing her head back, and the boy grinned like he’d just won something. another couple was taking pictures near the flagpole, the girl’s mom fussing with her corsage while the boy stood awkwardly to the side with his hands in his pockets.
the longer you sat there, the heavier the weight in your chest got. you’d been looking forward to this night since freshman year. four years of imagining what it would feel like to walk into prom on someone’s arm, to dance under those cheap paper decorations the student council put up every year, to have one perfect night before graduation and summer and everything changing.
and now you were sitting in the back of your dad’s car in a dress you’d picked out with your mom, trying not to cry again while the string lights flickered and the music played and everyone else got to have the night you’d been promised.
“i’m going to get out,” you said suddenly, reaching for the door handle before you could talk yourself out of it. “just for a minute. i’ll be right back.”
“sweetheart, are you sure—? ” your mom started.
“mom. i’m sure. i just need some air.”
the evening hit you warm and soft when you stepped out of the car. the breeze caught the hem of your dress and lifted it slightly around your knees, and you tugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders even though it wasn’t cold. you walked toward the edge of the parking lot, away from the crowd and the music and the string lights, until you found a quiet spot near the curb where the asphalt met the grass.
that was where you sat down.
right on the curb.
in your prom dress.
with your face in your hands and your shoulders shaking and the mascara you’d just fixed starting to run all over again because what was the point? what was the point of any of it?
you didn’t hear him approach. the music from the gymnasium was loud enough to cover footsteps, and you weren’t exactly paying attention to your surroundings anyway, too busy trying to muffle the sound of your own crying with your palms pressed against your mouth. it wasn’t until a shadow fell across you that you even realized someone was standing there.
“hey,” a voice said. male, quiet, careful. “are you okay?”
you looked up at him. he was quite tall. that was the first thing you noticed. taller than most of the guys in your grade, with broad shoulders under a dark suit jacket that fit him well . sandy blonde hair that fell across his forehead in a way that suggested he’d pushed it back at some point and it had just decided not to stay. and those baby blue eyes. really blue, even in the dim light from the parking lot lamps.
and he was looking at you with this expression that wasn’t quite pity and wasn’t quite curiosity—something in between, like he was trying to figure out how bad the situation was before he committed to an approach.
“i’m fine,” you said automatically, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. “just—i’m fine. you don’t have to—”
“you’re ... sitting on the ground next to my car,” he said with an awkward tone.
you blinked. looked to your left. sure enough, there was a car parked right there, a slightly beat-up sedan that you hadn’t even noticed when you’d stumbled over to this spot. of course. of course you’d picked the one stretch of curb that belonged to someone.
“oh god,” you said, scrambling to stand up. your legs felt unsteady and your flats slipped a little on the asphalt. “sorry. i’m sorry. i didn’t realize—i’ll move—”
“no, hey, wait.” he held up both hands like he was trying to calm a spooked animal. “you don’t have to move. i was just—i came out here to get some air and you were already there. i’m not trying to kick you off my car. or my curb. whichever.”
you stopped halfway through standing and ended up in this awkward crouch, balanced on the balls of your feet, staring up at him. he had his tie loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and his jacket was slung over one arm instead of actually being worn. he looked tired, you realized. not the kind of tired that came from one bad night, but something deeper, like he’d been carrying something heavy for a while and hadn’t figured out how to put it down.
“i’m leon,” he said. “leon kennedy.”
“i know who you are.”
the words came out before you could stop them, and you felt your face heat up immediately. but it was true, you did know who he was. everyone knew who leon kennedy was. he was popular in that quiet, effortless way some people had, the kind of guy who didn’t chase attention but got it anyway. people talked about him in the hallways between classes. girls giggled when he walked past. he’d been voted “best smile” in the yearbook superlatives two years running.
he wasn’t smiling now, though. he was still watching you with that careful, assessing look.
“okay,” he said slowly. “so you know who i am. but i don’t know who you are. and you’re crying on the curb next to my car. so maybe we should start there.”
you sank back down onto the curb, because standing felt like too much effort all of a sudden. your dress pooled around you on the asphalt and you didn’t even care if it got dirty. “i got dumped,” you said, the words coming out flat and hollow. “tonight. prom night. my boyfriend of eight months called me fifteen minutes before he was supposed to pick me up and said something came up.”
leon didn’t say anything for a few seconds. then he let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “that sucks.”
“yeah. it does.”
“eight months is a long time.”
“i know.”
“and he just—called? didn’t even show up to tell you in person?”
“nope. phone call. real classy, right?”
leon made a sound in the back of his throat that might’ve been a laugh or might’ve been disgust. “sounds like a jerk.”
“he is a jerk,” you agreed. “i just didn’t realize it until about forty-five minutes ago.”
the string lights flickered again. someone inside the gymnasium turned the music up, and the bass thumped through the walls loud enough to make the ground vibrate slightly under your feet. leon shifted his weight from one foot to the other, jacket still draped over his arm, and then—without asking—he sat down on the curb next to you.
not too close. he left a few inches of space between your shoulder and his, like he was being careful not to overstep. but he sat down. right there on the curb.
“i’m not having the best night either,” he said, staring out across the parking lot. “my friends dragged me here. i didn’t have a date, and i was planning on just staying home, but they showed up at my door and basically pulled me out of the house.”
“that sounds annoying.”
“it was. very annoying.” he glanced at you sideways. “less annoying now, though.”
you weren’t sure what to say to that. your face felt hot again, and you looked down at your hands folded in your lap, at the chipped nail polish on your thumb that you’d meant to fix before tonight and forgot.
“i spent two hours getting ready,” you said quietly. “my mom helped me pick out this dress. i practiced walking in heels for a week. and he didn’t even have the decency to—”
your voice cracked. you stopped talking and pressed your lips together hard, because you were not going to cry again. not in front of leon kennedy. not after he’d been nice enough to sit down next to you on a curb instead of just getting in his car and driving away like he probably should have.
“what’s your name?” leon asked.
you told him.
he repeated it back to you, and something about the way he said it, like he was committing it to memory, and made your stomach flip in a way you didn’t want to think about too hard.
“well,” he said, leaning back on his hands and tilting his face up toward the sky. “look. i came out here because i was tired of standing in the corner of the gym while all my friends danced with their dates. didn’t think i’d find someone having a worse night than me, but here we are.”
“thanks. that makes me feel so much better.”
“i’m not finished.” he turned his head to look at you, and his expression had shifted into something less guarded—still tired, still careful, but softer around the edges. “i was going to say: since we’re both here, and neither of us has a date, and you’re already wearing a really nice dress—would you want to be my prom date?”
the question hung in the air between you. for a second you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. leon kennedy, asking you to prom. not out of pity—or maybe a little out of pity, but also something else, something that looked almost hopeful in the way his eyebrows drew together while he waited for your answer.
“you don’t have to say yes,” he added quickly, and his voice dipped a little, losing some of its confidence. “i’m not trying to—i mean, you obviously don’t have to. i just thought, you know, since we’re both here, and you’re dressed up, and i’m dressed up, and there’s music playing, and it seems like a waste to just sit out here on the curb all night…”
he trailed off. his ears had gone slightly pink.
you stared at him for a moment. the breeze picked up a strand of your hair and blew it across your cheek, and you reached up to tuck it behind your ear while your brain tried to catch up with what was happening.
“sure,” you said finally. “it’s not like i’ve got anything to lose.”
leon’s face broke into a smile, not the polite, careful expression he’d been wearing before, but a real one, the kind that reached his eyes and made him look younger somehow. less tired.
“yeah?” he said.
“yeah.”
he stood up first and then held out his hand to help you up. his palm was warm and a little calloused, and his fingers closed around yours with a steadiness that made something in your chest loosen just slightly. you let him pull you to your feet, and for a moment you just stood there on the edge of the parking lot, holding hands with a boy you’d never actually spoken to before tonight, wearing a dress you’d almost taken off an hour ago, about to walk into prom with someone who wasn’t your ex-boyfriend.
“i should probably warn you,” you said, brushing off the back of your dress, “i’m not a very good dancer.”
“neither am i,” leon said. “we’ll be terrible together.”
the gymnasium looked exactly like you’d imagined it would. paper streamers twisted across the ceiling in the school colors, blue and silver. a disco ball spinning slowly in the center of the room, casting little flecks of light across the dance floor. a table set up near the bleachers with a punch bowl and stacks of plastic cups. chaperones lining the walls, trying to look like they weren’t bored out of their minds.
when you walked in with leon, a few people turned to look. you felt their gazes land on you—on the two of you together—and your face heated up all over again. but leon didn’t seem to notice. or if he did, he didn’t care. he just kept walking toward the dance floor with his hand resting lightly on your lower back, steering you through the crowd like he’d done this a hundred times before.
“you okay?” he asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music.
“yeah. just—people are staring.”
“so? let them stare.”
the first song that came on was fast, something upbeat with a heavy beat that made the floor vibrate. leon grabbed your hand and pulled you into the middle of the crowd without hesitation, and for the next few minutes you forgot to be self-conscious. he danced like he didn’t care if he looked stupid—arms flailing, hips moving in a way that wasn’t quite on beat, grinning the whole time—and it was so unexpected, so completely at odds with the quiet, serious guy you’d met in the parking lot, that you found yourself laughing before you even realized it.
“what?” he shouted over the music.
“nothing! you’re just—you’re a really bad dancer!”
“i told you!”
a few songs later, the tempo slowed down. couples paired off across the dance floor, arms wrapping around shoulders and waists, swaying in place under the spinning disco ball. you felt your stomach tighten. this was the part you’d been dreading since you walked in—the slow dances, where everyone had someone and you’d be standing off to the side trying not to look as lonely as you felt.
only you weren’t alone tonight.
leon turned to you, his expression shifting into something more hesitant. he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, and for the first time since you’d met him outside, he looked genuinely nervous.
“so,” he said. “slow song.”
“i noticed.”
“do you want to—i mean, we don’t have to, but—”
you reached out and took his hand before he could finish. his fingers curled around yours automatically, and you stepped closer until you were standing right in front of him, close enough to see the way the disco ball lights reflected in his eyes.
“you already asked me to prom,” you said. “you don’t have to be nervous about asking me to dance.”
“i’m not nervous.”
“your ears are pink again.”
he laughed , surprised and genuine—and then his hands settled on your waist, light at first, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind. you didn’t. you slid your arms up around his shoulders instead, and the two of you started to sway.
the song was something old. you recognized it vaguely , a ballad your mom loved very much, one of those love songs from the seventies that made her sigh and put her hand over her heart whenever it came on the radio. the singer’s voice crooned through the gymnasium speakers, slightly distorted by the cheap sound system, and the disco ball kept spinning, and leon’s hands on your waist were warm even through the satin of your dress.
“can i ask you something?” you said after a minute.
“sure.”
“why did you come outside? really?”
leon was quiet for a few seconds. his jaw tightened slightly, and you watched him consider the question, weighing something in his head that you couldn’t see.
“i don’t know,” he said finally. “i guess i just needed a break. from all of this.” he gestured vaguely at the gymnasium around you—the decorations, the crowd, the noise. “everyone expects you to have the time of your life at prom, right? like it’s supposed to be this perfect night. but if you don’t have someone to share it with, it just feels… i don’t know. empty.”
“yeah,” you said softly. “i know what you mean.”
he looked down at you, and for a moment neither of you said anything. the song was winding down, the final chords fading into something softer, and the couples around you were starting to pull apart, but you and leon just kept swaying.
“i’m glad i found you,” he said.
“me too,” you said.
the moment happened during the next slow song. you weren’t sure who leaned in first. maybe both of you at the same time, pulled together by something that felt inevitable now, like the whole night had been building toward this one point. the music swelled around you, and the disco ball kept turning, and leon’s hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you just a little closer.
“can i kiss you?” he asked.
his voice was barely above a whisper. his forehead was almost touching yours, and his eyes were searching your face for permission, for any sign that you might say no.
you reached up instead and placed your hands on either side of his face, your fingers brushing against the slight stubble along his jaw, and you kissed him. softly. gently. the way you’d always imagined a prom night kiss should feel, except somehow better, because it wasn’t choreographed or expected or part of some plan you’d made weeks in advance. it was just happening, right here in the middle of the dance floor, while a song you didn’t know the name of played through the speakers.
his lips were warm. he tasted faintly of the punch from the refreshment table, and his hand at your back pressed just firmly enough to make you feel steady, grounded, like you weren’t about to float away even though that was exactly what it felt like.
when you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little harder than before. your forehead rested against his, and you could feel his breath on your skin, warm and a little uneven.
prom ended at eleven. the lights came up in the gymnasium and the chaperones started herding everyone toward the exits, and you walked outside with leon into the cool night air, your cardigan wrapped around your shoulders and your hand still loosely tangled with his.
“i can give you a ride home,” he offered. “if you want. my car’s right over there.”
“the one i was crying next to?”
“that’s the one.”
you laughed, it felt easier now and nodded. “yeah. okay. let me just tell my parents.”
your mom and dad were still parked in the same spot they’d been in an hour and a half ago. your dad was reading a magazine under the dome light, and your mom had her head leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed, but she sat up the moment you tapped on the window.
“i’m getting a ride home,” you said when she rolled the window down. “with leon. he’s—he was my date. sort of.”
your mom’s eyes flicked to leon, who was standing a few feet behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking suddenly very interested in the asphalt. then she looked back at you, and her expression did something complicated, surprise, confusion, and then a dawning kind of understanding that made her smile in a way you couldn’t quite read.
“leon,” she repeated. “leon kennedy?”
“yeah. do you know him?”
“i know his parents. well—i know of him. he’s a good kid.” she paused. “he’s not your ex-boyfriend.”
“no. he’s definitely not.”
your mom looked at your dad, who had put down his magazine and was squinting out the window at leon with an expression that was trying very hard to be stern and not quite succeeding. then she looked back at you and reached through the window to squeeze your hand.
“be home by midnight,” she said. “and tell him thank you. from us.”
you promised you would.
the drive to your house took about twenty minutes. leon’s car smelled like old coffee and something faintly woodsy—his cologne, maybe, or just the way his car always smelled. he kept the radio on low, some rock station, and for most of the drive neither of you talked. it wasn’t an awkward silence, though. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet that settled between two people who’d just shared something unexpected and didn’t feel the need to fill the space with words.
your phone rang about ten minutes in. your mom.
“hello?”
“sweetheart, just wanted to let you know—we’re home now, and dinner’s still on the table. i made your favorite. well, i made it for you and your ex, but obviously he’s not coming, so there’s plenty extra. do you think leon would want to stay?”
you lowered the phone slightly and turned to look at leon. his profile was silhouetted against the window, the passing streetlights casting shadows across his face.
“hey,” you said. “you don’t have any plans tonight, right? my mom made dinner, and i was wondering maybe—if you’d like to come? as a thank you. you really made my night.”
leon glanced at you, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. then he smiled, that same real smile from before, the one that made him look younger.
“yeah,” he said. “sure. i’d like that."
your house was warm and bright when you pulled into the driveway. the porch light was on, and you could see your mom moving around in the kitchen through the front window, probably putting the finishing touches on dinner like she always did when she was nervous about guests.
“fair warning,” you said as you and leon walked up the front steps. “my parents are kind of a lot. my mom’s going to ask you a million questions, and my dad’s going to pretend to be scary even though he’s basically a teddy bear.”
“i think i can handle it.”
your mom opened the door before you could even reach for the handle. she was wearing her nice apron—the one with the embroidered flowers along the hem—and her hair was pinned back the way she did when she’d been cooking all day.
“you must be leon,” she said, beaming. “come in, come in. dinner’s almost ready.”
“thank you for having me, mrs.—”
“oh, please. call me—”
she stopped. just for a second, her eyes flicking from leon’s face to yours and back again. her mouth opened slightly, and you could see the question forming on her lips before she even said it.
“wait,” she said. “but that’s not—”
you caught her eye and shook your head once, very slightly. please, just don’t ask.
your mom pressed her lips together. she looked at you for another long moment, and something passed between you, an understanding, maybe, or at least the promise of an explanation later.
“that’s not what?” leon asked, looking between the two of you.
“nothing,” your mom said, her voice bright and only slightly forced. “i was just going to say—that’s not your car in the driveway, is it? the one with the dent in the back bumper? your father’s been meaning to fix that for weeks.”
you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
dinner went better than you expected. your mom had made her lasagna, your actual favorite, the one she only made for special occasions—and there was garlic bread and salad and a pitcher of lemonade on the table. your dad asked leon about school and sports and what he was planning to do after graduation, and leon answered all of it with this easy, unhurried politeness that made your parents exchange approving looks across the table.
and then your mom brought up ninth grade.
“did she ever tell you about the time she tried out for cheerleading?” your mom asked leon, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“mom!” you said warningly.
“she practiced the routine for three weeks. in the backyard. every single day after school. and then the morning of tryouts, she got so nervous that she walked into the gym, took one look at the judges, and walked right back out again.”
leon snorted into his lemonade. “no way.”
“i was fourteen,” you protested, your face burning. “fourteen-year-olds are allowed to get nervous”
“you didn’t even try,” your dad added, shaking his head. “we kept asking you what happened and you just said, and i quote, ‘it wasn’t for me.’”
“it wasn’t for me!”
your mom launched into another story—something about a school play in tenth grade where you forgot all your lines and improvised a monologue about aliens , and you sank lower and lower in your chair while leon laughed, his shoulders shaking with it, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“i’m going to die of embarrassment,” you muttered into your lasagna.
“you’re doing great,” leon said quietly, nudging your foot under the table.
after dinner, you walked leon to the door. your parents had retreated to the living room, giving you some semblance of privacy, and the house felt quieter now, the night settling in around you.
you stood in the entryway for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to end things. leon had his jacket slung over his arm again, his tie still loosened, and his hair had gotten slightly messier over the course of the evening, falling across his forehead in that way you were starting to recognize.
“thank you,” you said. “again. for being so kind. and for spending tonight with me.”
“yeah. of course.”
you hesitated. “you know—i’d love it if you could maybe come over for dinner again sometime. my mom seems to like you.”
leon ducked his head, a shy smile flickering across his face. “yeah. i’d like that too.”
“oh! we should keep in touch.” you grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper from the little table by the door and scribbled down your number. “here. call me sometime. or don’t. but you should. if you want.”
he took the paper and folded it carefully, tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket like it was something valuable. “thanks. for being my prom date. you kind of saved my night too, you know.”
you didn’t know what to say to that. your chest felt tight again, but not in the way it had at the beginning of the night. this was different—warmer, softer, like something was blooming inside you that you hadn’t even known was there.
leon leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. quick and light, barely there, but it made your skin tingle where his lips had been.
“goodnight,” he said.
“goodnight.”
he walked back to his car, and you stood in the doorway watching him go, your hand resting on the doorframe and your heart beating a little too fast in your chest. the headlights flicked on, and the engine rumbled to life, and then he was pulling out of the driveway, his taillights disappearing down the street.
you stayed there for a long moment after he was gone, the night air cool against your skin, the porch light casting your shadow across the front steps.
maybe the worst night of your life had somehow turned into the beginning of something better.
last old fic i'll post before i gotta lock driving exam🤞
Could you do Rantaro, Kokichi, and Shuichi reacting to their S/O being the victim?
Maybe before the body discovery they both got in a huge fight over something?
Either way, I think it’d be interesting to see! ^^
>> #Author's note ::
"hey! sorry it took too long, I'm losing my motivation again eugh but I'm fishing it down."
>> genre: sfw headcanons
>> ship: Rantaro Amami, Shuichi Saihara, Kokichi Oma x gn! reader
>> relationship: established relationships
RANTARO AMAMI x VICTIM! READER
❓ ──────────── ❓
he didn't mean to raise his voice at you. even if it wasn't full on yelling, he knows he upset you, and it did upset him too.
he thought giving space would work. he thought letting you take a breather would help both him and you. but he didn't look back at the fact this was a killing game.
when he didn't see you the whole day, he got a bad feeling in his guts, like he already lost somehow.
but when he actually heard the screams of others and the body discovery, the feeling finally dropped like a bucket of frozen water on him on winter.
you? you...died? you?? you died mad and upset by him..??
he couldn't even speak. he just stayed silent, eyes wide as he looked at your dead body.
during the trial, he's spending the whole time listening well, and struggling to do so. but he forces himself to focus. he needs to figure out who and why they did this.
“they died thinking i hated them. it's all because of me that i lose them all.."
🔍 ──────────── 🔍
SHUICHI SAIHARA X VICTIM! READER
🔍 ──────────── 🔍
he didn't mean to break in front of you- or more correctly, break on you. he didn't mean to seem like he wanted you away, he just needed his space.
being a detective gets him alot of stress, especially during trials, and he gathers most of his bravery, confidence, and strength into them. he's not used to pointing a direct finger at someone so bluntly.
all those bottled up emotions exploded before he could hold back. he didn't mean it, to make you feel hurt and upset, to walk away from him thinking you're a burden.
when he heard the body discovery alarm, he panicked. but he never expected it to be you. just when he saw your dead body, bleeding and liveless? he freezes. his heart starts throbbing in a painful way, and all he can do is look at you with a wide eyed expression of hurt.
the aftermath? he didn't even know how he got past that trial, your trial. it all hurts so much to speak. all that pushed him forward was the fact everyones' lives were on the line.
“I can't believe they died still upset...upset because of me..”
🍇 ──────────── 🍇
KOKICHI OMA X VICTIM! READER
🍇 ──────────── 🍇
it's not gonna be the first time you two had fought. at first, he didn't tell you about his plan, he knows you'd protest and try to stop him. so why should he tell you?
but when you started to notice him being more annoying than usual, trying to push everyone away, trying to push YOU away, you intervened, and he didn't like that yet again.
why the fuck are you like this!? why can't you just be like everyone else?? why are you so fucking annoying? why are you a liability!?
these were the same insulting, painful words he threw your way, and they hurt more than he could ever realize.
when he heard the announcement of a dead body, he froze in his spot. whether he was already heading somewhere, rotting in his bed thinking again and again about the argument, he froze. his body tensed immediately.
could this be you? no. no fucking way. please no. he begged whatever god above for it to never be you. but when he saw the exact opposite of it, being the first one in the room, he shutdown immediately.
he couldn't even bear the scene. should he blame you? blame himself? or the fucked up killer? even if he tried, he couldn't blame anyone but himself.
guess who is st
“he...haha...ehehe...they're...they are...dead?”
"HEY! sorry for taking too long, life's slapping me rn omfg."
this is so real !! you’re not even dating yet, he hasn’t worked up the courage to ask you to go check out that coffee shop nearby, but he’s oh so in love with you. completely stunned with the way you move, talk, head over heels with watching you hang out with your friends. his friends, on the other hand, are busy laughing at him, cackling as he hastily places his jacket over his lap. he doesn’t mind though, he doesn’t even listen to them because he’s so entranced with how good your legs look in these shorts.
he knows he’s being a real loser, a gross one at that, but he’s just so nervous. you don’t put two and two together, thankfully, and you just think he has a deeply rooted adversity against you, with the way he avoids you like the black plague. what you don’t know, is that he spends his nights pawing at his cock, desperately trying to relieve himself but he just can’t stop leaking sticky fluid, tip all red and angry and balls still heavy with cum. he thinks he’s a perv, he definitely is, with the way his eyes fly down to your tits and ass as you walk by.
but he can’t help it, you just look so soft, so perfect, and he just quickens the pace as the fantasizes about making sweet, sweet love to you. or maybe you’d beg him to go faster, harder, to treat you like a slut and… no, a cute girl like you deserves to be fucked nice n slow, no teasing, he’d make you his very own pillow princess, yes, he’ll take really good care of you…
oh, he really should ask you out. what will you think though? will you be grossed out by him? have you noticed the bulge in his pants, sitting heavily on his crotch? you’ll hate him, of course you will, so he figures it’ll be best to stick to jerking off at night, brain flowing with lewd scenarios of you. but when you appear in front of him, cheeks flushed and sweet words telling him how much you like him, he thinks this is a dream come true.
(•̀’◡’•̀)ﾉ Hello!! I was wondering if I could ask for a Kazuichi Souda NSFW alphabet? I find your writing to be super nice and in character!
I hope you have an amazing day - ♫ ♪ ♩
⋆˙⟡.ೃ࿔⋆ thank you for requested this perverted man
↳ REQUESTS OPEN
WARNINGS: dom!reader, bottom!reader, omorashi, impact play, semi-public sex
gender neutral reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kazuichi is a total cling-wrap after the fireworks are over. Because he’s constantly worried about being "too much" or getting dumped, he needs a lot of reassurance. He’ll hover, offering to get you water or a warm towel, but mostly he just wants to be held. If you let him put his head on your chest and play with his hair, he’ll be purring in seconds.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He is surprisingly self-conscious about his own body, but he’s proud of his hands—they’re calloused and strong from mechanical work, and he loves seeing how they look against your skin.
On you, he is a massive thigh enthusiast. He loves the idea of being pinned down by them or simply having a soft place to rest his head.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He’s a mess, plain and simple. Kazuichi isn't the "clean and tidy" type in the workshop, and that translates to the bedroom. He has a bit of a degradation kink regarding being "marked," so he’s more than happy to let you leave a mess on him. He’s also prone to over-stimulating easily, often leading to a few "accidents" before the main event even starts.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Kazuichi has a vivid imagination involving machinery-themed roleplay. It’s a bit embarrassing for him to admit, but the idea of being "maintained" or "fixed up" by a partner—perhaps while wearing his grease-stained jumpsuit—gets him incredibly worked up. He likes the idea of being treated like a project that needs a firm hand.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He talks a big game, acting like a total "ladies' man," but the truth is he’s remarkably inexperienced. Most of his "knowledge" comes from questionable magazines and late-night internet deep dives. He’s clumsy and prone to panic, so he really relies on a partner who is willing to guide him and show him the ropes.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Cowgirl (with you on top) is his absolute favorite. Since he’s naturally submissive, he loves being able to see everything you’re doing while having his hands free to grip your hips. It takes the pressure off him to perform and lets him focus entirely on worshipping you while you call the shots.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He is the least "cool" person in bed. Kazuichi is prone to making weird faces, let out high-pitched squeaks, and cracking jokes when he gets nervous. If things get too serious or intense, he might accidentally kill the mood with a nervous laugh, but his genuine enthusiasm usually makes up for the lack of "suave" energy.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
His neon pink hair is usually a mess, and no—the "carpet" does not match the "drapes." He’s a bit sensitive about his natural appearance, but he loves it when you tug on his hair during the heat of the moment. It’s one of the few things that can actually make him short-circuit and lose focus.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Despite his loud exterior, Kazuichi is deeply romantic and a bit of a sap. He needs to feel a strong emotional connection to really let go. He’ll pepper your face with kisses and tell you how "awesome" you are a hundred times. For him, sex isn't just physical; it's a way to prove that you actually like him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’s a frequent flyer in this department. Because he’s often high-strung and lonely, he uses it as a way to destress. He’s usually pretty quick about it, often doing it in the shower or while distracted by thoughts of his partner taking control. He’s definitely a visual guy and likely has a hidden folder on his laptop.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Omorashi (Bladder Control) and Impact Play. He loves the "good pain" of a sharp slap, especially on his rear, as it helps ground him. Regarding the former, the feeling of being forced to hold it while you tease him is a huge psychological trigger for his submissive side; he loves the loss of control that comes with it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The garage or his workshop. There’s something about the smell of oil and gasoline that gets his blood pumping. Doing it on a sturdy workbench—with him pushed back against the tools while you take charge—is his ultimate fantasy. Just be prepared for him to worry about getting grease on you afterward.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Nothing gets him going faster than praise. If you tell him he’s doing a good job or call him a "good boy" for following instructions, he will melt. Conversely, a little bit of mean teasing about his submissiveness will have him blushing bright red and begging for more.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He cannot handle blood or anything "gory." He’s a total wimp when it comes to actual injury. Anything that feels genuinely dangerous or non-consensual is an immediate turn-off. He needs to feel safe and loved, even if the roleplay is a bit rough.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He is much better at receiving than giving, purely because he gets so flustered when he's down there. He’s a giver at heart because he wants to please you, but he’ll likely keep asking "Is this okay? Am I doing it right?" every five seconds. If you push his head down and take control, he’ll be much more effective.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Kazuichi is franetic. He starts off fast and shaky because he’s so excited, but he’s easily slowed down if you take the lead. He prefers a rhythm that is steady and firm—something that lets him feel the weight of your body and the reality of the situation.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s a huge fan of the "fast and dirty." Since he’s always working on something, a 10-minute break in the back of the shop is right up his alley. The thrill of possibly being caught (though he’d die of embarrassment if he actually was) adds a layer of excitement that he can't get enough of.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He is a total "safety first" guy in the shop, but in bed, he’s willing to take some risks if it means making you happy. He’ll try almost anything once as long as you’re the one suggesting it. He’s a "yes man" to a fault, so you have to be the one to check in on his boundaries.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It’s…not great. Kazuichi is a "one and done" kind of guy for the most part. He burns through his energy incredibly fast and usually ends up a shaking, sweaty mess after the first round. Give him twenty minutes and a Gatorade, though, and he might be ready for a very sleepy second attempt.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He is a gearhead, so he’s fascinated by the mechanics of toys. He probably owns a few high-end, vibrating gadgets and has definitely "modded" one or two to be more powerful (potentially dangerously so). He’s very open to using them on you, but he’s even more excited when you use them on him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He is terrible at teasing; he folds almost instantly. If you try to tease him, he’ll be begging for release within seconds. He simply doesn't have the willpower to play hard to get. If he tries to tease you, he usually ends up getting flustered by your reaction and giving in anyway.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Loud. Kazuichi is a screamer. He moans, he whimpers, and he talks way too much. He’ll narrate exactly how he’s feeling or just make high-pitched, pathetic noises that make it very clear how much he’s enjoying himself. There is no such thing as "discrete" with him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He has a biting/marking habit. When he’s close to the edge, he tends to nip at whatever is closest—your shoulder, your neck, your hand. He doesn't mean to leave marks, but he gets so overwhelmed that his instincts take over.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Underneath that baggy jumpsuit, he’s surprisingly lean but possesses a mechanic's strength. He has a few scars from shop accidents and probably a very regrettable tattoo he got on a whim. He’s also quite sensitive; even a light touch on his lower back or inner thighs will make him jump.
His cock itself is a bit small, definitely below average, and it's something he gets incredibly self-conscious about if you stare too long. It’s ultra-sensitive, especially right at the head, which is why he gets overwhelmed so quickly during oral or rougher sessions.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is very high, mostly fueled by a need for physical validation. He’s constantly thinking about it, even if he’s too shy to bring it up. If you give him even a tiny bit of attention, he’s already thinking about three steps ahead to the bedroom.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He’s out like a light. Once the adrenaline wears off and the aftercare is done, he’ll fall asleep mid-sentence while cuddling you. He’s a heavy sleeper and a bit of a snorer, but he’ll always make sure he’s touching you in some way, even in his sleep.
Maybe its time for Kazuichi to move on. And maybe it's time for him to try that with the cute girl that's been staring at him the entire night.
Kazuichi Soda x Fem!reader
Modern Collage AU
No Talents
Word Count: 4019
It was late, so late that the only people left in the venue was Twilight Syndrome who were still packing up, and anyone who thought they would hit it big and actually be something in a few years. This included Sonia, Gundham's girlfriend, and Ibuki's girlfriend who definitely didn't want to be here. There was also a group of girls dressed in their sluttiest party outfits, and a small group of alt people who heavily fucked with their music.
Kazichi groaned as he stretched his back out before grabbing his guitar case.
"Feels like a lot more people than normal..." He muttered to himself. Not long ago it was just the four of them and now it feels like there was at least one new person hanging around anytime they managed to score a venue to play at.
It was mostly because the music was good, I mean they poured their heart and soul into everything they played, but if you ask the people who frequented the college parties they could often be seen at there's one specific thing that always kept people interested. They were all smoking hot. And everyone wanted a piece.
Leon smashed into Kazuichi's shoulder, making the shorter male groan and glare up at his friend. Leon wrapped his arm around Kazuichi's neck and pulled him close to make sure they were looking at the same thing. A group of girls towards the back, all in miniskirts and studded belts that were basically the same length as their skirts.
"That hottie over there had been staring at you all night!" Leon laughed a little and used his other hand to poke at Kazuichi's side.
He slapped at Leon's hand and looked over at the girl, at you. He looked you up and down but particularly what caught his eyes was the cigarette pressed between your lips and the low cut of your top. Fuck her tits are huge...
Kazuichi shook his slightly to knock himself back in track. That’s wrong. Actually that’s totally fucked.
His eyes flicked over to Leon, trying to look anywhere but at you. “So? You know I only have eyes for Sonia.”
Leon sighed. “Yeah yeah whatever man. It’s been years, I know you’ve thought about moving on.”
Yeah he had thought about it, of course he had, but that was really the extent of it. Why move on when Sonia still talked to him and was in his life? She was always there and always would be.
“You should try moving on with someone that at least wants to fuck you, and this is your chance! She’s been giving you bedroom eyes the whole night, bro.” Kazuichi's eyes shot back over to you. The second he made eye contact you batted your lashes and winked at him.
“Fuck…” Kazuichi muttered. He flushed a deep red. He shouldn’t be contemplating doing this, it was so wrong. You were probably tipsy or high if not both, you probably didn't even want him sober. Fuck none of this was going right... but nothing ever really did go right for him.
"I guess I can go talk to her... but it won't be any more than that! She probably wont want anything other than that once she sees me up close..." He was mostly talking to himself, but Leon was also there to hear. If she's here than shes probably a fan... Isn't that like a power imbalance. Oh my god I'm the worst person ever. Another thing that makes him look like the worst creep known to man kind.
"Hey man, stop selling yourself short! The ladies love you! You just gotta actually talk to them instead of staring at Sonia. What are you gonna do when she starts dating someone?" Leon looked over at Kazuichi and huffed. He was tired of Kazuichi being stuck on Sonia and tired of not hearing epic stories of his boring friends not getting laid. They all sucked.
Kazuichi winced at the mention of Sonia dating someone else. He sighed and put his guitar case down. He pushed off Leon and walked over to you. Kazuichi was going over to someone and it was a huge deal, catching the eye of everyone in the room. Some jealous, others supportive, and a few just plain confused but regardless everyone watched.
“Hey, Kazuichi right?” You didn’t say anything special and honestly you didn’t need to. The soft and low tone of your voice made electricity shoot up his veins and a shudder shoot down his spine. He flushed a light red and nodded a little. God the way she says my name is so fucking- WRONG WRONG WRONG. He huffed and shook his head a little harder this time hoping to clear all his hazy thoughts.
“Uh yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Can I talk to you outside?” He was basically whispering to you. He didn’t want Sonia to notice. Who was he kidding she probably saw him walk over. Of course she was watching and thinking he’s a total shitty sleaze bag. At least that’s what Kazuichi believed.
While yes Sonia was watching, she was rooting for him more than anything else. She hadn’t seen Kazuichi romantically talk to anyone other than herself for the past five years they’ve known each other. She was over joyed to see him finally talking to another girl, honestly she was silently praying this would work out for him.
“Outside? That’s a little unusual, but ok.” You shrugged and put your cigarette out, leaving it in the ashtray. You handed your purse to one of your friends then led the way outside. You stopped in front of the door but Kazuichi grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the building.
“Most people just fuck in the car or the bathroom. Is this some public kink you’ve been wanting to try out?” You followed behind him despite being led to a dark and sketchy side of the building.
He stopped and turned to face you. His face was burning a bright red as he let your arm go. “We’re not having sex!” He yelled.
“We’re not?” You pouted and looked down at your cute little outfit. “Then why’d you pull me out here? You could have just ignored me.”
“I uh, well maybe we aren’t… I, fuck!” Kazuichi pulled his beanie down over his eyes and leaned forward a little to hide his face that was growing even redder as time ticked on. How the hell do I fix this??? Just fucking end me
“We’re not having sex! And I’m not just gonna ignore you!” He peaked up at you only to be met with your cute little pout. “You’ve been staring at me all night. So I should talk to you… at least…” He sighed.
“Well that’s sweet of you.” You leaned back against the wall. “Honestly I thought you were kinda staring at me which made me realize how bad I wanted a piece of the cute band guy.” You started twirling your hair between your fingers, trying to do anything to make the moment less awkward.
Once you said that, Kazuichi’s head went blank. You seemed pretty sober, and you were hot as fuck. A sober hot girl thought he was cute? God this was the highlight of his year.
“You think I’m cute… like seriously and completely sober?” You couldn’t see it cause he was still looking at the ground but his eyes started to sparkle.
“Well duh! You’re so cute and I love your style. Plus you’re really funny I’ve seen all your posts!” You were showing that you were a bit of a fan, but in this moment Kazuichi couldn’t register that it was wrong.
He slowly looked up at you, his eyes shining with excitement and a hand covering his mouth. “You’ve seen my posts!?”
“… So you don’t just want me cause I’m in a band?” He was standing still, but the air around him vibrated with his excitement.
“No.” You giggled a little. “If I just wanted to get laid by a guy in a band I would have went after Leon. I think he would have totally done it.” You moved a little closer to Kazuichi and stopped playing with your hair. Your hands came down by your sides. A little too close to his for him to not notice.
“I guess that’s true.” Kazuichi muttered and looked down at your hand. It was so close he could grab it. So close that if he took a single step forward your perfectly manicured nails would be right against his thigh. He visibly gulped and pulled his eyes away from your hand, moving them up until he got stuck on something that originally got him here. Your chest.
“Like what you see?” You bat your lashes at him and took another step closer.
His breath hitched and he finally pulled his eyes up to yours. He bit the inside of his cheek and grabbed on tight to his baggy jeans when the two of you made eye contact. His nails curled into the denim and pressed into his thighs.
“I-is, uh, your offer from earlier. That still an option?” He spoke quickly, his breath coming out in short quick nervous huffs. His heart was beating out of his chest and felt sweat begin to prick at his skin.
“Hmmm? What offer?” You snickered when Kazuichi looked up at you with wobbly lips and wide eyes.
“Y-you know!” He whined and quickly looked down again. He wasn’t sure if you were just teasing or if you truly forgot but whichever it was tugged at his heart strings so hard he wanted to cry.
“I don’t know if you don’t telllll meeee.” You winked and he felt a wave of relief that you were just teasing him.
“You know…” He huffed. “You said you wanted to, f-fuck… c-can we?” His voice grew lower and lower as he continued to speak. He felt like he was gonna throw up and bust a nut all at once.
You started to laugh and that made Kazuichi instantly turn away and started slowly walking away. He felt like he had been tricked.
“Of course the offer is still on the table.” You hummed. That made him stop in his tracks, but he utterly refused to turn around.
“… Wanna head to my truck? I know you said you didn’t wanna do it outside.” His ears burned red. He shoved his hands in his pants to do something with them, but his nails just ended up digging into his thighs from how excited he was.
You moved closer until you were close enough to blow on his red hot ear. He yelped and a hand shot up to cover his ear. He could hear you snicker as he felt the point of your manicured nail run down his spine. “I’m kinda coming around to the idea of doing it outside. It’s super risky.”
“Wh-what if we get caught?” His voice trembled as he slowly looked back at you over his shoulder.
“Isn’t that what makes it hot though?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and started to purr directly into his ear. “Someone seeing you balls deep in a pretty girl. Seeing how good you make her feel.” You nipped at his earlobe.
“That does sound really h-hot.” He gasped out when he felt your teeth on him.
Kazuichi finally turned to face you. He felt you in his back but he hadn’t realized how close you are until now. Just mere inches away with immediate eye contact that made his head spin.
“Can I, kiss you?” He gulped. The crushing grip on his thighs moved to your hips but it was significantly lighter. Honestly his hands barely touched you. Forget grabbing your hips aggressively he could barely keep his hands steady as he trembled like a leaf.
“Please do.” Your voice was softer, closer, more intimate. Definitely too intimate for what he believed was supposed to be a quickie on the side of a building. But that was the least of his worries as he still leaned in to close the distance between the two of you.
But what Kazuichi failed to remember is that it’s been a really long time since he kissed anyone. Hence why he completely froze up the second your lips touched. You pushed on though, threading your fingers through those pink strands at the back of his head, and slowly moving your lips against his.
Kazuichi pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment. “Sorry! It’s just, been a while.” His eyes found the ground once again and he felt like a piece of shit.
“It’s fineeee. Just kiss me again.” You puckered your lips and leaned in.
Kazuichi nodded and laughed nervously. He was so nervous he started letting his nails actually curl into your sides. He pressed his lips against yours in a few small repeated kisses before going in for the big one. His sharp teeth tugged at your bottom lip until you whined from the feeling and let your mouth fall open. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and slowly explored, licking everywhere before his tongue got to tangle with your own.
Your nails curled into his scalp, giving a slight tug as you pulled him closer. A cute pathetic whimper slipped past his lips and you felt your brain physically stutter as heat pooled within your core. Oh he sounded so cute. Ohhhh, you needed to hear more of that.
Something about the little whine made your body feel like it was on fire, it filled you with the overwhelming urge to push him down and dominate him. A man had never made you feel like this before.
You acted on those urges, pushing back in the kiss and fighting him for dominance. Kazuichi's eyes snapped open in shock and he froze up again, he had no idea what to do in this situation. You took advantage of this and pushed him back against the wall.
"Wa-wait-!" Kazuichi whined into your mouth, but that was all he could do as you quickly shut him up by pushing your tongue into his mouth. You grabbed at his hair, pulling him exactly where you wanted him to keep him in place.
A string of high pitched whines left Kazuichi and his legs trembled. One hand went slack on your side while the other dug into your hip, leaving crescent shaped nail marks. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, and couldn't even fight back in the kiss. His brain was being rearranged from the outside by how good he was feeling from just a kiss.
This was all new. He had never felt anything like this ever. None of the handful of girls he had talked to ever really fought for dominance. He's never felt this haziness that made him tremble and crave you at his core.
You brought him somewhat back to his senses when he felt your hand trailing down his body. He tried to look down and watch your hand but you quickly yanked him back into place with your other hand and went back to absolutely devouring him.
You groped him as your hand made it's way down his body. Groping his pecks, down to his chest, and stopping when you finally reached his belt buckle. You savored all his delicious moans the entire way down.
Kazuichi had never known his chest to sensitive until this very moment. When your sharp nails curled into his pecks and flicked over his nipples he felt himself twitch in his pants. Holy shit he didn’t know that could feel so good. If he could think straight he’d be realizing a lot about himself and his sexual taste right about now.
You moved your hand from his hair, needing both hands to pull off his double crossed belts which still proved to be a difficult task to do without looking. It was literally so bad you had to (finally) pull away from the kiss to see what you were doing. While you didn’t want to pull away, this did give you a chance to finally see your work.
Kazuichi panted softly and slumped against the wall, both his hands fell from your hips and just dangled on the wall beside him. His eyes were half lidded and hazy, a mix of your saliva dripped from the side of his mouth, and your lip combo had smudged off on him. The nude and glossy tones were smudged all over his lips as he tried to regain the air in his lungs.
“I-I-“ He gasped for air and took a deep breath. “Miss, p-please. Please do that again.” His voice quavered and he weakly reached out to grab onto your shirt.
Your eyes widened, pupils most certainly dilated, and you smashed your lips back onto his. Teeth and tongue clashing as his grip tightened on your shirt and your hands made their way to the hem of his pants, yanking them down just enough for his red boxers to be visible. You pulled up your skirt and began grinding against him.
Kazuichi’s cock twitched when he felt your warmth pressed against him through the boxers. He couldn’t help but snap his hips up against yours, drawing a moan from you that fed his ego.
His horny muddled brain was trying to decide if he wanted to give up dominance or continue you to fight you for it like he ever had a choice. His fate was sealed and he didn’t know how much he truly preferred it like that.
“Hey Kazuichi! You finished talking to that girl yet?” Leon rounded the corner, all three of you stopping like a deer in headlights.
“Sh-shit man! I’m sorry!” Leon ran around the other corner of the building. Leaving you and Kazuichi to stare at each other and him to fully realize what just happened.
You chuckled awkwardly as you pulled your skirt down. “Maybe we should have went to your truck.” You hummed, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Uh, yeah, haha…” Kazuichi started fixing up his pants, recrossing his belts and most definitely trying to ignore that he was still totally hard, even after being caught.
Holy shit… why did I do that???? I’ve been telling myself that it’s fucking wrong all night! One compliment and I just threw away all my morals holy fucking shit. All his thoughts returned to have him at once. He suddenly remembered why he thought this was so wrong in the first place. His thoughts were absolutely killing him. What would Sonia think? Would she think he’s a whore? He should have picked a nicer spot. Why’d you want HIM so bad you could have anyone. This was probably some power imbalance. And most important of all, why was he so turned on by you dominating him? Was that something he was into?
Kazuichi gulped hard and he looked you up and down. He still couldn’t believe someone as pretty as you just did all that with him.
You reached out and grabbed his chin, cleaning his lips with some napkins he assumes came from your pocket. His mouth fell open a little and once again all the thoughts just left his brain. Just everything about you and you doing this was just so fucking hot to him. His face flushed a deep red and his cock twitched. Lord, words could not describe how bad he needed you.
Once you finished cleaning up he saw you pull a pen from your purse. When the hell did someone bring that over. He was so out of it he never noticed your friend bringing over your purse.
You grabbed him by the arm and pulled up his sleeve, writing your name and number on his arm in the steadiest writing you could muster at the moment. You weren’t totally frazzled like Kazuichi but your pussy was pounding like crazy so you weren’t in tip top shape.
“I always wanted to do that. Writing on someone’s arm, not the making out on a wall.” You giggled a little. “That’s my name and number, call me or text. Or don’t, I’ll still be at the next show no matter what.” You leaned in and placed a glossy kiss on his neck before walking off.
“O-of course…” He watched you intensely as you got in the front seat of the car with your friends. Damn DD? You weren’t entirely sober? Not even a little buzzed? On my god.
He slumped against the wall again and tried to piece everything together in his mind but a lot of just wasn’t making sense. It all felt so surreal.
“Sooooo was she good?” Leon raised his eyebrow as he turned the corner again, this time Ibuki was hanging off his back, both of them grinning at Kazuichi.
“Ibuki was so surprised when Leon said you were talking to a girl! You two were going at it like wild animals over here!” Ibuki laughed
“She was great, she was beautiful… god she was everything. I miss her-“ He quickly shut himself up when Sonia turned the corner. He pulled his beanie down over his eyes and looked toward the ground.
“How’d it go? Did you have fun Kazuichi?” Sonia smiled and cocked her head to the side. She desperately hoped he had some sort of fun.
“Ahem, y-yeah. She was good.” His voice cracked, mentally he was beating himself up.
“Um, am I still driving you home Sonia?” Kazuichi cleared his throat and tried to look as normal as possible. It was obvious to all his friends thought that he was definitely going through it mentally right now.
“Oh yes! Thank you so much.” Sonia smiled and Kazuichi nodded. He used this as his great escape to usher her to the car. He needed to flee everyone and just think, which is what he did for the first half of the drive. Until Sonia interrupted him.
“Kazuichi. I think you should pursue that girl, if she likes you of course.” Kazuichi’s eyes widened and quickly snapped over to Sonia. She was looking at him with a dead serious expression.
“I love you like a brother. You are a dear friend to me and I am sure you know that.” He wined at her words and looked back at the road. “I think this is a good time for you to finally move on from me. It has been 5 years.”
Sonia gasped as Kazuichi slowed down a bit and swerved off road, pulling them to the side and putting the car in park. “I know… I know you’ll never return my feelings, but I don’t even know how to move on.” He sniffled and his hands gripped the steering wheel.
Sonia rubbed his back. “I know it may be hard but at least talk to her. I nor anyone else will hold this against you.”
“No no I can’t. She’s probably been on so many dates and I couldn’t even begin to hold a candle to any of those! I don’t know anything! I’ve barely done anything!” His eyes welled up with tears and the soft tap of them hitting the steering wheel echoed in the car.
She pulled Kazuichi over the middle console into a hug. He cried into her shoulder as she did her best to soothe him. “Then we’ll help you. Help you see her more, help you plan dates. I’m sure everyone would have no issue with helping you out.”
Kazuichi nodded but it didn’t stop his tears. His lack of experiences, the fact that he’s done so little outside of a few sexual encounters. All it boiled over in this single moment and he couldn’t stop crying in Sonia’s shoulder.
They sat like that until he calmed down and finished the drive with puffy eyes and a little more motivation in his heart. Maybe he could be loved despite his lack of experiences there was only one way to find out.
hello brotato chip.....it would be fantastically awesome if you wrote a Nagito NSFW alphabet....👀👀👀👀👀
⋆˙⟡.ೃ࿔⋆ aaa my second favorite character...yessss
↳ REQUESTS OPEN
WARNINGS: bottom!reader, dom!reader, cum eating, semi-public sex
gender neutral reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Nagito is incredibly attentive and almost reverent afterward, treating the moment like a sacred ritual tied to the "hope" you've just shared. He'll gently clean you up with a warm cloth (or insist on a bath together), murmuring endless praise about how lucky he is that someone as hopeful as you allowed trash like him to touch you. He holds you close, running his fingers through your hair while whispering affirmations, sometimes tearing up because the intimacy overwhelms him. He won't sleep until he's sure you're comfortable, hydrated, and wrapped safely in his arms—he needs to feel like he's protecting the hope you represent.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Nagito claims to have everything about himself, calling his own body "filthy trash" that doesn't deserve to touch you, but deep down, he's quietly proud of his mouth and tongue—he knows he can use them to bring you overwhelming pleasure, and that feels like a small redemption.
On you, he's obsessed with your hands: the way they touch him, guide him, hold him down, or simply rest on his skin. He'll kiss your palms obsessively, muttering about how they represent hope reaching out to someone unworthy like him, and he loves feeling them grip his hair or scratch his back during sex.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Nagito is messy and worshipful about it—he views it as proof of the "hope" you've drawn out of him. He prefers finishing inside you because it feels like marking you with something hopeful from his worthless body, but he'll beg your permission first. If you have him pull out, he loves seeing it on your skin, tracing patterns with trembling fingers while whispering how beautiful the contrast looks. He's surprisingly into tasting it off you afterward, licking it up like it's a privilege, and he'll get hard again just from the sight and taste of you covered in him.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Nagito secretly fantasized about you completely dominating him—tying him up, using him however you want, even humiliating him by making him beg for scraps of your attention while calling himself trash. He's ashamed of how much the idea turns him on because he thinks it's too greedy for someone like him to want that, but the thought of you claiming him so thoroughly makes him leak pre-cum instantly. He's never admitted it outright, but certain tiny pleas during sex hint at it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Nagito has very little real experience—maybe one or two awkward meaningless encounters in his past that left him feeling even more worthless—but he's surprisingly skilled thanks to obsessive research and his hyper-focus on pleasing you. He studies your reactions like they're clues to ultimate hope, learning exactly what makes you gasp or tremble. He might fumble at first from nerves, but once he's in the moment, his intuition and dedication make him an attentive, adaptive lover who prioritizes your pleasure above his own.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Nagito loves missionary more than anything because it lets him stare into your eyes, watching every expression of bliss cross your face, and whisper desperate praises the whole time. He'll cradle your face or intertwine your fingers, treating it like a profound connection rather than just sex. Runner-up is you riding him—he's mesmerized by the sight of you taking control, using his body for your hope, and he'll grip your hips while babbling about how perfect and lucky he feels beneath you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He's rarely goofy—sex is too intense and meaningful for him. He can slip into awkward, rambling tangents about hope mid-thrust, which might come off as unintentionally funny, but his tone stays earnest and reverent. If you crack a joke, he'll laugh breathlessly and call it "adorably hopeful", but he's too overwhelmed by emotion to be truly playful. The closest he gets to humor is his dramatic, self-deprecating dirty talk.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Nagito keeps things neat out of habit—he’s fastidious about hygiene despite his chaotic personality, so he trims regularly but doesn’t go bare. His pubic hair is the same wild, light pinkish-white as his head hair, slightly curly and soft. It’s not overly thick, and he’s always clean and smells faintly of whatever scented soap he’s fixated on that week (he likes subtle, clean scents that make him feel "less filthy").
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Insanely intimate—Nagito treats sex like a holy act of hope. He's all soft gazes, forehead kisses, and constant affirmations of love and luck. He'll hold your face, murmur your name like a prayer, and tear up if the emotion hits too hard. Even when things get rougher, there's an undercurrent of worship; he needs the emotional connection as much as the physical one.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He masturbates frequently but guiltily, usually when he’s overwhelmed thinking about you. It’s desperate and needy—he’ll edge himself while whispering your name, imagining your touch, and often cries when he finishes because he feels unworthy of the pleasure. He rarely uses porn; it’s all mental fantasies of you praising or degrading him. If you catch him, he’ll blush furiously and beg you to "punish" him for being so greedy.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise and degradation (both ways—he loves praising you endlessly and being called worthless trash in return), light bondage (being restrained so he can’t "taint" you too much), dacryphilia (he’ll cry during sex and gets harder if you do too), and a massive service kink—he derives pleasure from getting you off repeatedly. He’s also into overstimulation, both giving and receiving, because pushing limits feels like chasing ultimate hope.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Private, quiet places where he can focus entirely on you—bedrooms, empty classrooms late at night, or secluded outdoor spots under the stars (he finds something poetic about it). He’s too paranoid about tainting your hope to risk very public places, but the thrill of semi-hidden spots (like behind a curtain or in a locked bathroom) can excite him if you initiate.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you display hope, confidence, or kindness—especially toward him—ignites him instantly. A gentle touch, a loving word, or you standing up for something you believe in can make him hard in seconds. Dirty talk where you call him yours or tell him he’s doing well also wrecks him. His biggest trigger is you initiating; knowing you want him despite everything makes him desperate.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything involving real pain beyond light scratching/spanking (he can’t stomach truly hurting you), cheating scenarios (even roleplay—he’d break down), or anything that feels hopeless/cruel without redemption. He also refuses anything that isolates you from him emotionally—he needs the connection.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He vastly prefers giving—he’ll spend ages between your legs, worshipping you with his tongue like it’s his purpose in life. He’s skilled, attentive, and enthusiastic, humming praises against your skin. Receiving makes him whine and tremble; he’ll tell you it feels too good for someone like him, but he secretly loves it when you continue anyway.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Mostly slow and sensual—he wants to savor every second, drawing it out while gazing into your eyes. But when his emotions spike (desperation, possessiveness, or "hope overload"), he can snap into fast, rough thrusts, gripping you tightly while apologizing and praising in the same breath.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s not a huge fan—quickies feel rushed and disrespectful to the intimacy—but if you’re desperate or teasing him in a risky spot, he’ll give in with shaky enthusiasm. He prefers long sessions where he can worship you properly, but he’ll never say no if you want him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s surprisingly open to experimenting if you suggest it—he sees it as a way to bring more hope into your relationship. He’ll try almost anything once (within his limits), but he gets anxious about anything too dangerous or public. The riskier it feels emotionally (like vulnerability), the more he craves it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Nagito’s stamina is high—he can go multiple rounds because his obsession keeps him going even when exhausted. He lasts a decent time (longer if he’s edging himself mentally), but he’ll hold back to focus on you first. After he cums, give him a few minutes of cuddly praise and he’s ready again.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn’t own many initially (too embarrassed), but if you introduce them, he’s eager. He loves using vibrators or plugs on you while praising how hope looks when you’re trembling. On himself, he’ll use a cock ring or be tied with a vibe if you command it—he finds the helplessness thrilling.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He teases a lot, but it’s soft and worshipful—slow touches, ghosting kisses, edging you while murmuring how beautiful your desperation is. He’ll deny you release until you’re begging, then praise you for being so hopeful. He loves when you tease him back; it makes him fall apart.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Very loud—he can’t hold back. Expect whiny moans, gasps, choked sobs, and endless rambling praise or self-degradation. He’ll cry out your name repeatedly, sometimes screaming when he cums. He tries to muffle himself at first but gives up quickly.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
The first time you have sex, Nagito is a nervous, trembling mess—he keeps pausing to ask if you’re okay, if he’s hurting you, or if you regret it, tears in his eyes from overwhelming emotion. Once you reassure him, he becomes fiercely devoted, treating your body like a treasure he’s been granted by fate.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Nagito is lean and pale, scarred from past events, with a surprisingly pretty cock—average to slightly above average length, pale pink, with a gentle upward curve that hits nice spots. It’s sensitive, twitching at the slightest touch, and flushes darker when he’s aroused. His overall build is slender.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High but repressed—he’s constantly thinking about you, so his drive is intense, but guilt keeps him from acting on it often. Once you’re together, he’s insatiable if you encourage it; he can go from zero to desperate in seconds if you give him the slightest sign.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn’t fall asleep quickly—he’ll stay awake watching you sleep, tracing your features with feather-light touches while whispering how much hope you give him. He might not sleep at all some nights, too overwhelmed by adoration, but if he does drift off, it’s with you held tightly like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
eh . ,anyway ,, Ahh may I request Kazuichi x a reader that's like . absolutely out of his league ,, like drop dead gorgeous, popular and rich and everything but loves him insanely and dotes on that loser like everyday ,, yay ty 🙇♀️
LOVEE THISS !! yess we all missed youu >:33 🫰
| 𝙆𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙎. 𝙬/ 𝙊𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
• NOBODY including himself can fathom how he managed to pull you
• He’s insecure and thinks you’ll leave him for a better, good looking guy (LIKE BOY U ARE THE GOOD LOOKING GUY)
• He is INSANELY jealous, if someone looks at you he’ll quickly start yelling at them, “I know my girl is jealous but she’s MINE I SAW HER FIRST LOOK AWAY !!”
• Casually pulls you closer and he doesn’t really care where you guys are, he likes showing off that your his and that he’s yours !!
• Sometimes, he’ll just stare at you in awe like that one cute sprite of him and say, “I’m so lucky your mine”
• He tries to act cool when you compliment him but he’ll very quickly fail
• He honestly doesn’t really care how you talk to him but he prefers praise and words to make him more confident than he is (especially if he feels like he’s not good enough for you)
• The more you dote, the more bold he becomes
• Loves when you play with his hair and let him ramble on and on about mechanics
• When he’s bored and wants to invent something just because, he’ll lay his head on your lap and think of ideas
• He’s very touchy, even if he doesn’t mean it he just doesn’t want you leaving his sight ever ☺️!
• If you ever move away from him on purpose or stop displays of affection he’ll get very pouty and start acting like an abandoned kid
• If he’s working with mechanic stuff and your in a clingy mood he’ll let you sit in between his legs and rests his cheek on your head while he works on whatever it is he’s working on
• Whenever a guy he doesn’t trust walks by he’ll put on an instant act, “I LOVE YOU TOO BABE!!!” and give constant side eyes to check if they heard/saw
• He loves when you ask his opinion on clothes, hair anything though he’ll just say you look beautiful in anything
• He always sneaks up on you and hugs you from behind before greeting you
• Loves when you pepper his face with kisses and he loves doing the same for you !!
Yo👀👀👀👀👀 so like I’ve been thinking about a Nagito x fem reader👀👀👀 with a smut texting story👀 Yo.
Oohh a smut texting story we going all the way back to 2020🌝 i got you yo 👀✌️... also You didn't rlly specify what you want so im sorry if it's not what you had in mind i just made sumn up!!!!!!!! enjoy enjoy enjoy - peach
HMU
Youre missing your boyfriend Nagito...badly after he texts you, but you're on your period and he's all the way at his own house... So you can only resort to texting him.
cw: suggestive, femdom reader, sub nagito, mentions of rainbow kissing, masochist nagito, degrading and praising, mentions of oral, mentions of fingering, he calls u mommy once i think, masturbation
art credit: @dgrpluna on x
1:31 AM
Nagito
I see you're active on tiktok..
i know you don't want to hear this from me.. but you should go to sleep, it's late.
You
I would, but my cramps r really bad rn
Nagito
oh gosh, i'm sorry
texting me probably made it worse, didn't it?
You
nonono of course it didn't
i told you to stop being so harsh on yourself!!!
Nagito
im sorry baby
You
gosh, you really know how to make a girl mad
you know that?
Nagito
imsorryimsorryimsorry
i love you
You
i love you too
Nagito
typing....
1:49 AM
You
why are you taking so long to send a text message
it isn't your suicide note right?
Nagito
im just thinking of how i should say this without you getting mad...
You
i'll get mad if you take any longer
just say it
Nagito
i wish i could see you right now
You
is that it?
i wish i could see you too:)
Nagito
ahhh
thats not really it..
im sure you wouldn't want to hear what i have to say anyways..
You
im your girlfriend because i love everything about you
Nagito
okay..
i saw this tiktok about periods and some girl in the comments said that she gets horny when she's on her period, even more so than when she's ovulating
does this apply to you as well?
You
i get horny whenever i'm around you
so yeah
Nagito
ah, is that so
You
it is
is that all?
Nagito
so if i came over right now
even though youre on your period..
You
No
it's too messy sorry
even with a condom
Nagito
no no
of course I wouldn't do that with you while you're on your period
i can be a gentleman
You
Yeah?
what would you do?
Nagito
i'd do whatever you'd tell me to do
anything
i don't like knowing you're hurting, baby
it should be me instead
if i could id take all of your pain
You
anything?
even if i told you to eat me out?
Nagito
mhm
i don't mind
really
You
you sound rather eager
Nagito
i just really miss you
your taste, your face
You
you aren't touching urself without me are you?
Nagito
technically you're with me
im texting you
that doesn't count does it..
ahh
im sorry..
you should punish me
You
You just want me to be mean to you so you can get off, huh?
i mean... i guess it counts
i'll forgive you if you send me a picture rn
you have ten seconds
Nagito
[picture]
You can tell he rushed taking the picture, but damn does he look hot. Sweat drips down his flushed face, matching his pink precum slicked tip. his hand is around the base—a blurry figure of it at least—he was definitely jerking off while taking this. the flash reflects off of his glossed over eyes beautifully, and it makes you feverish.
You
good boy
you're so cute
Nagito
can i cum
please
You
you're close already?
how long have you been touching yourself??
Nagito
since we started texting..
You
wow
disgusting
Nagito
im sorry
You
you'll cum when i tell u to
lol
i can't believe you're listening to what i say and you haven't even seen my face in days
Nagito
pathetic, aren't i
You
yeah
but i like that about you
Nagito
i wish u were here rn
your hand feels so much better than mine
my hand is disgusting
it's too wet and slimey now..
the texture is all weird
You
my hand is hardly different than yours
Nagito
no you know how to do it better
you scrape your nails against my shaft and make my balls ache
your thumb presses into my tip deep enough that my eyes roll to the back of my head
and it's so warm and soft
nothing like mine
You
is that all you remember
i have more tricks than that haha
at least now i know what your favorites are
Nagito
please
i love you
You
You know what else i do?
Youre too stuck in ur pleasure high to notice when i do it but you finish every single time lol
Nagito
what do you do?
tell me please
You
I grab your balls and massage them until they draw up
and with my other hand
i use my thumb to play with your leaking slit as i stroke your base when i reach the top,
and my pointer to rub under the head so i can feel you throb
then at the final moment, i stop just below the tip, and i squeeze hard. so hard that it becomes bright red and swollen, and the base stays pale.
it's funny to see how hard you cum every time i do it
makes me wanna stretch myself around u and go until u pass out
Nagito
keep going if i ever pass out..
you deserve to feel good
i don't care if i get hurt in the process
hmfnnjrjrjdbdndksksl
r u touching yourself too?
You
no
i can't wait for ur post nut clarity lolll
you'll probably get pissed at yourself and then i'll get to have fun with u
is that bad to say?
Nagito
i want u to feel good too
please
i can't cum unless i know u feel as good as me
no, even better
You
sorryyyyyy i just don't want blood stained hands right now
if only u were here!
instead, how about u tell me all about how you'd make me feel good
since u can't do it rn:)
it's only fair, don't u think?
maybe then i'll let u relieve urself
Nagito
mhm
ur right
i would
do anything
u would sit on my face and
i would shove my tongue deep inside of u until u get off
id pull u closer even when my face'd turn purple from lack of oxygen
ur blood would get all over me
and i'd love it
fuck i wish i could taste u
u never let me go down on u on ur period
i just want u so bad.
and afterwards i'd kiss you.. if you'd let me
i know u wouldn't want my disgusting bloodied lips on ur perfect ones
but if u let me i would kiss u so much, everywhere.
my hand would rub your breast, and my other one would be in your pants
since u don't want to touch yourself i'll do it for u. gladly
id mimic how my tongue was thrusting in and out of u with my fingers
and with my thumb i'd rub ur clit just the way u like it so u squirt all over me
of course i'll clean it up with my tongue
i know u don't like to waste things
baby
tell me i'm pathetic
i know i am
it just sounds better when it's coming from u
You
wow
u really are pathetic
damn now i want to play with myself
thanks a lot
i don't want to get all dirty.. there's nobody here to clean up my mess
like u said.. i hate wasting stuff
fucking loser. why do u have to turn me on so much
Nagito
im sorryyyyyygggggghhjkhvfff
im sorry
im a worthless piece of trash
You
u still haven't cum, have u?
send me a picture now
Nagito
[picture]
Everything is the same as the last photo he sent you, except there's a clear difference now.. Tears stream down his face, blending in with his sweat, but still evident.
You
are you crying?
hahhhhhhhashshba
that's so cute
crying over me
over how good i make u feel
im not even next to you
weren't u complaining abt how Bad ur hand felt earlier? clearly you were lying to me
Nagito
no nonono
i could never be as good as u
no
it's because ur talking to me
i feel so disgustinf
but i love u
and it feels so good when u talk to me like the talentless piece of shit i am
oh god
i can't
it's too much
id feel better if ur hands were around my neck rn
but i
You
you can cum now
send me a picture of the aftermath
i want to see u sprawled out and covered in ur own mess
and clean it up.
i want to see all of it on ur tongue, okay baby?
Nagito
ahh
anything for u baby
okay
[picture]
i love you
READ AT 3:00 AM
i've never written somethinglike this before so i'm sorry if its Bad😭 lwk felt like i was one of those girls on twitter getting paid by those guys to degrade Them yall know what im talking About right? also might be ooc GRRRRHRHGRGSG😣 anyways this was fun to write and Good experience!! tysm for ur request!!!! - peach
thinking about ... afab!reader asking nagito to help them test a new lipgloss they recently got, leading to reader straddling nagito and pressing kisses all over his face and he lowkey gets hard ...
i just think nagito gets hard easily with any sort of attention....
⋆˙⟡.ೃ࿔⋆ so true anon i love imagining flustering him with attention and praise ESPECIALLY when he gets a boner from it. My favorite sprite of his is that drooling self-hug hope one
WARNINGS: dom!reader AFAB!reader
↳ REQUESTS OPEN
gender neutral reader
The small plastic tube felt cool against your palm, a shimmering contrast to the nervous heat radiating from your skin. You’d bought the gloss on a whim—something sweet, high-shine, and supposedly "long-lasting"—but standing in the middle of Nagito’s room, the excuse felt flimsy.
Nagito was perched on the edge of his bed, a book resting forgotten in his lap. He looked up at you with those clouded, grey-green eyes, a soft, self-deprecating smile already tugging at his lips. "You want my help...with makeup? Surely someone as unremarkable as me is the worst possible canvas for something so lovely."
"I just want to see if it actually stays on," you murmured, stepping between his knees. "The label says it’s smudge-proof. I figured you wouldn't mind being the test subject."
He let out a breathless little laugh, his hands hovering uncertainly near your waist but never quite touching.
"Anything for you. Though I suspect your luck is simply being wasted on a piece of trash like me."
You didn't give him a chance to spiral into his usual rhythm. You twisted the cap, the scent of vanilla and sugar filling the small space between you. Carefully, you swiped the applicator across your bottom lip, then the top, before pressing them together. It was thick, glassy, and felt like an invitation.
Instead of backing away, you hooked a thumb under his chin and climbed into his lap. Nagito made a sharp, hitching sound in the back of his throat as your weight settled over his thighs, your knees pinning his hips to the mattress. His book slid to the floor with a dull thud.
"I need to be thorough," you whispered, your voice dropping an octave.
You didn't go for his lips first. You started at his temple, pressing a firm, lingering kiss against the pale skin. Then his cheekbone. Then the bridge of his nose. With every contact, you could feel him shudder beneath you. His hands finally found purchase, gripping your hips with a sudden, desperate strength that belied his frail appearance.
"Does it feel...sticky?" you asked against his jaw, before trailing a line of shimmering kisses to the corner of his mouth.
"I can't...I can't focus on the texture," Nagito rasped. His head fell back, exposing the long, pale line of his throat. You took the opening, peppering his neck with gloss-slicked marks, marking him in a way that made his breath come in short, ragged stutters.
As you moved back up to his face, your hips shifted instinctively against his. That’s when you felt it—the unmistakable, rigid heat blooming against your center. Nagito’s eyes snapped open, wide and glazed with a mixture of shock and profound shame. His fingers dug into the fabric of your clothes, his knuckles white.
"Ah, how pathetic," he choked out, his voice cracking. "To have such a...such a base reaction to something so kind. I really am the worst, aren't I? To be affected like this just because you're..."
You cut him off by capturing his lips with yours, finally delivering the killing blow to his composure. The kiss was messy and deep, the sugary gloss acting as a slick lubricant between your mouths. He tasted like desperation. As you ground your weight down against the rising tension in his slacks, a low, guttural moan escaped him—a sound far too raw for someone who claimed to be nothing.
He wasn't fighting it anymore. His hips gave a small, involuntary jerk upward, seeking the pressure of your body, even as he trembled under the sheer intensity of being wanted. The lipgloss might have been smudge-proof, but by the time you pulled back, Nagito’s face was a map of shimmering, frantic devotion, and he was completely at your mercy.
I'm sexually frustrated, and I can demonstrate it if you'd like.
𝄞 synopsis: your best friend, SAE ITOSHI knows you've never been one to have sex, do hookups, or even date. he doesn't want to overstep; he really shouldn't. but you keep looking at him like you want him to teach you, like it's his responsibility. and maybe as your best friend? it is.
𝄞 contains: SMUT, fem!reader, reader has hair, reader has a mom, they r 19, swearing, endless anime references, childhood best friends, family friends & neighbours, experienced!sae, inexperienced!reader, bratty!reader, pussydrunk!sae, posessive!sae, pining, sae teaches reader how to kiss and masturbate, making out, neck kissing, vaginismus (complications with his fingers), clit rubbing while you touch yourself, pussy spitting, pussy eating under the blanket, yapper sae i repeat yapper sae
𝄞 word count: 6.9k + 453 bonus drabble !
𝄞 credits: to @g-gulp for editing, discussing, and making the banner for me! ur so awesome n amazing. other creds to all my irl friends who beta read...
𝄞 A/N: piggybacking off this post. i took inspiration after arguing w an experienced!sae truther... also i took inspo's from @dotlusional's 'kiss' w katsuki! it was amazing!
"Okay, it's embarrassing, but I haven't really kissed anyone before."
"That's not surprising in the slightest."
"What? Hey!"
Sae had always been the blunt type; you knew of that. Ever since you were children, he would wave away the kind reporters asking him questions with a harsh 'Go away', take trophies and medals wherever he walked, and speak like he was better than everyone else.
Nobody told him he shouldn't talk like that to people — especially to adults and teachers. That language like that wasn't proper etiquette, so he never fixed it.
And you were always the more polite type. Shy, but got along with almost anyone if they spoke first. Kind, chiding him whenever he told another kid to piss off. Pretty, as the years went by and you went from scraped knees and tangled hair to soft skin, girlish fragrances, and the delicate contour of your legs.
He swallowed thickly.
Your legs.
As you got older, you stopped wearing basketball shorts and switched to skirts, then short shorts, then slacks. Frankly, it was hard for him to look away from your thighs. They were plush and soft and ran up the curve of your—
He tore away his gaze from your bare legs resting over the blanket and focused on the TV screen, the fan, and the open window pouring with rain. Anywhere but your tempting skin.
Sae usually doesn't admit these kinds of things, especially not to you, but looks alone? He's astonished that not even one person ever tried hard enough to date you. You're smart, comforting, and nice to look at. If he were to settle down, he would do it with someone like you.
Of course, someone like you.
"I don't mean it like that," he murmured, fixing on your eyes instead. Pretty they were—all round and warm and focused on his. "You reject everyone who's interested in you."
Your index rubs your chin thoughtfully. "That's because..."
"Of your standards. Always on about your anime boys, huh?"
"That is so not funny, Sae!"
"It is a little funny. You're like Rin. He's almost finished his Junji Ito collection."
"Oh, now we're comparing me to Rin—"
"You collect figures and manga."
"They're pretty."
"They're anime boys."
"They're Tomoe, actually. Don't generalise."
"Tomoe is an anime boy."
"You were the one who watched Kamisama Kiss with me!"
"Hmph. Touché."
When was it? The summer before he left for Spain? You were prancing on about your ritualistic tradition of bingeing romance anime with him. There was Kamisama Kiss; Lovely Complex; NANA, which he had to stop because he hated Shoji; and his favourite, Ouran High School Host Club. The blonde male lead, Tamaki, always made him snort into his sleeve as a boy while you shook his shoulder squealing about it.
Anime like that was more up Sae's alley compared to Rin's fixation for horror and suspense, so he quietly cherished those days. Lying on the couch, watching TV in the summer heat, your frame on your stomach next to his, destroying a popsicle stick. It was a much better predicament than watching some porno his teammates had found on a beat-up DVD rental.
After all, he was with you.
You fiddled with your hands as the movie played on. Taxi Driver, for the third time this year. It was his favourite movie, but now that he thought about it, he never asked if it was yours too.
Was it?
You severed his thoughts with a question. "What was the anime you like right now, anyway?"
"The Apothecary Diaries. I like Xiaomao."
"You just like her cause she's like a cat."
"Meow."
You rolled your eyes at his quip. "I wonder what you think of Jinshi, then."
He paused. Sae always had a soft spot for the types of people with an odd backstory, much like Jinshi. It spiced things up compared to all the boring societal bullshit he deals with enough every day. "...I like him too. But he's a little dramatic for my tastes."
"You only like him cause he's pretty."
"Are you slut-shaming me or projecting?"
You snickered. "The former. Is he your type?"
"Not really? What do you think my type is?"
Waving your hands around, you mocked. "Someone hot with a nice ass."
He scoffed, but for some reason, he could feel his jaw clench. "So now you think I'm shallow."
You snorted. "...Yeah."
"Looks aren't everything, y'know. Pretty sure I go by vibe."
You snickered, your hand reaching into the bag of potato chips, his favourite snack that he was banned from eating. Damn you. "Uh huh."
You popped the chip into your mouth; a soft crunch was heard between your teeth, but all he could focus on was the plushness of your lips. He wondered if they felt as delicate as they looked. If they were as untouched as you said. How could that be possible? Look at you—
"Y'know that scene in The Apothecary Diaries where Maomao thinks his dick is a frog?"
He rubbed his cheek, snorting into his palm. "What about it?"
"Do dicks feel like frogs?"
Sae hadn't jerked off enough to remember, and he certainly wasn't going to check. Sighing, he said. "I don't think so? Mine doesn't."
"So why did she think it was a frog?"
"She's never felt a dick before. And it was probably the position. He was on top of her, after all."
You shook your head. "No, she was on top of him."
"Idiot. He was the one who landed on her."
As Sae reached for his phone before you could pointlessly argue about their weird pseudo-sex position, the sheets rustled and—
You climbed on top of him. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, grinning like you proved something. Your arms were braced on either side of his head, your hair grazing the skin of his cheeks. And your knees—they were braced on either side of his hips, the urge to grab them all too real. Too sweet. Too good.
His breath hitched, magenta bangs poking his forehead as he murmured lowly. "What are you doing?"
Still, his large hands moved to rest on your waist, anchoring himself.
You reached for the phone in his hand, plugging in the password you knew by heart into the screen, fiddling with the phone.
You tilted the glass right before his eyes, it was that stupid frog scene. Maomao was on top of Jinshi, and you were unfortunately correct.
"See! I told you she was on top of him!" You grinned, pulling the phone away.
Before Sae could process what was about to leave his lips, he scoffed. "Are you sure you've never even kissed anyone before?"
"...What is that supposed to mean?"
Fuck.
He grumbled softly. "You're on top of me."
You scowled. "It's how the scene goes—a physical demonstration. And you're dead wrong; I don't feel a frog in this position."
"Cause m'not hard, stupid."
But if you kept yourself there any moment longer, he might be. His dick was already stirring to life in his sweats.
"Pfft— You aren't?"
"Very funny. You're a natural at this."
"At what?"
Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Ever since you were kids, he had always felt this weird sense of protection towards you. At first, it was the same protection he felt towards his younger brother, Rin, even though you were the same age and probably tougher than him. Then as he grew older and hit that age where some people were more than family, that protection grew into something different. Something familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time.
So he shouldn't overstep; he'd be a horrible, horrible man if he did. But your lips are curved so prettily into a proud smile. Your eyes, the colour and wrinkles of skin, stirred something down his neck and abdomen.
The tingle didn't stop there, blood rushing to his half-hard cock.
Shit.
He already moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering. "Temptation. Wanna gain some experience?"
You paused, eyes blowing wide.
Shit.
The both of you recoiled from each other instantly. Sae had nowhere to run, really, but he threw his head back against the couch, hands twitching, deciding if he should let go of your waist or not. You, on the other hand, completely pulled back. In this new position, it seemed more like you were straddling him than just looming over him.
A flush crept up his neck, his hand moving to cover the lower half of his face. "That was a—"
"Geez, didn't know you could be so bold." You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck.
He blinked, hoping you were another hallucination and he was dreaming in the confines of the Real Madrid training facility. That you were just another illusion tempting him.
No, you were still there. This time, your eyes lit up.
"Hey, that's a great idea, actually!" You leaned in closer again, a bright smile plastered over your mouth as your breaths mingled.
He paused. One second. Then, the next one. His lips twitched expectantly, his cerulean gaze low-lidded and fixed on you.
"...What is?"
"Teaching me how to kiss."
Damn his biology, cock completely twitching to life at your wanton suggestion. "Wha... What?"
"Oh, come on; it's just a little kiss," You whined, nudging his shoulder.
Sae cleared his throat, quickly adjusting the waistband of his sweats. "No."
"You've already kissed like, so many other people. One more wouldn't hurt. And it's for educational purposes."
"There's a difference when I kiss other people," he whispered, his sensual gaze betraying his words. "It's that they're not you."
"Dude, am I that bad?"
Dude? His brows furrowed, his lip curling into a grumble. "Not what I meant."
"Then what?"
The space between you was so thin he could die. Let the couch swallow him whole, and let the hallucination die with him.
Hazy excuses and words scrambled in his mind. "It's just that... We're friends. And your mom wouldn't be exactly happy with me if she knew about this."
You shuffled in your position, hips lifting off his. "...My mom isn't here right now. And we're not kids anymore. I don't need my mom's permission to do things."
Sae inhaled sharply when you pouted, head tilting back and hitting the soft cushioning. Were you going to keep whining about it until he gave in? Pester him and keep pressing yourself against him? God, what if he were going to like it?
Then, you muttered. "...Fine. Not like I wanted to know, anyway."
Ever since you were children, Sae had always been the more disciplined one of you two. When he was renowned as a football prodigy, nutritionists and dietitians quickly came into his life, lecturing him about his dietary restrictions to maintain and grow his build. While you ate Happy Meals and devoured candy every week, Sae had to almost entirely let go of fast food, specifically his favourite—French fries. There was no doubt that he had to let go of many things to be perfect, but then he discovered that perfection was more than a flawed goal. Flawed philosophy. A lie.
But even if he wasn't perfect—nobody was—Sae could have at least shown some semblance of hesitation or discipline, especially when it came to you, someone who was oh so dear to him.
Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you down, his lips brushing your cheek.
One breath.
Then, the second one.
And on the third, his other hand snaked to the back of your neck, the faint blades of baby hair standing up from his touch.
"I'll teach you," Sae whispered, something resembling a low whine pulling from his throat. "Nobody else can."
You swallowed thickly, eyes wide and pouring into his.
"Okay, I trust you."
His lips were twitching and breath uneven as you uttered the words. You might have been some sort of hallucination he imagined to get through the countless gruelling days in Spain. You might have been a fragment of his dream. Who cares? You were still so utterly divine.
After all, you were his favourite girl. His best friend.
Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. But if you didn't learn ruin from him, then someone else would have to teach you. And he knew he was too selfish for that.
One breath. Then, the second one. And on the third, you closed your eyes.
And his lips pressed against yours.
You never thought you would find yourself in this kind of situation.
Sure, younger you had eyes. Sae Itoshi was famous and handsome and rich, but he was off-limits. He was your neighbour. And after Sae moved in Spain for almost three years, you were much closer to Rin than the distant boy since he barely responded to your letters and calls.
Getting involved with Sae would be a betrayal to your dear neighbour and pseudo-son, Rin. You once thought. Sae was annoying anyway.
But then his lips pressed against yours like you were something delicate, and the faint taste of strawberries and honey sent thrills of warmth straight to your core; any semblance of restraint you had melted away, pressing yourself against him firmer—needier.
Then, you pulled away, just enough to peer down at him. His magenta locks were all frizzled up from the cushioning, and his cerulean gaze was half-lidded and fixed on yours.
No, more like on your lips.
"Did I?..." You start, but he cuts you off with a chuckle. "That was just a peck, idiot. Open your mouth."
You blinked.
His cold thumb pressed softly against your bottom lip, pushing the fullness down just enough to part your lips.
"Open your mouth," he whispered again, lower, against your lips. "It feels better this way, I promise."
A soft whine escaped your throat as he pressed his lips against yours again, shocks of electricity shooting down your spine and abdomen. His tongue swiped against yours once, something you assumed was like asking for permission, and your lips completely sealed around his, pressing yourself against him further.
Your hands scrabbled at the collar of his white T-shirt as his tongue prodded in the wet cavern of your mouth. It was gentle, like he was testing if you'd pull back. And when you whined, his tongue dragged slowly over yours, his hands tangling in your hair.
"Mmm—" Sae drawled into your mouth. "Is this okay?"
You panted, your breath mingling with his. "Yeah, yeah—Sae—it's good. Feels good."
"Yeah?" He seared his lips onto yours again, tongue webbing out to rub the roof of your mouth, sending sparks of heat down your stomach. He pulled back again in a quick haze, lips brushing against yours. "Feels good, hm?"
"Feels s'good; is it always this good?" You mewled, pecking his lips before flicking your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when his mouth parted.
One of your hands gripped his collar, the other cupping the back of his head, tangling between his soft magenta locks. A gentle prick disturbed your bottom lip, caught between his teeth.
It stung a little. And in a normal context, it would even hurt. But it felt so good—so, so good when the sting came from him.
His lips then descended to pressing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to the column of your neck.
You moaned quietly. His lips were hot—suffocatingly hot to the touch. Burning, like a fire had scorched your skin, but instead of pain, it was bliss.
You felt his lips curl into a faint smile against your warm skin as you craned your head back, exposing more of your neck. Soft groans escaped your throat, your fingers curling hard into his shirt.
His lips settled in the junction between your neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss before biting down. Harder than before.
"Sae!—"
"First time it felt this good for me too." He murmured against your skin, slowly thumbing your hips all the way up your waist. "You sure this is your first time?"
A slight flush crept up your neck, turning your head away from him. "You don't have to try and make me feel better, y’know…"
"M'being forreal." He tilted his head to the side, cerulean eyes filled with something you weren't quite used to—mirth. His gaze kept following yours even as you tried to look away. "Don't believe me?"
You pursed your lips sheepishly, your hands moving to rest over his shoulders. "Not really. But I— It's kinda hot in here, isn't it?"
Maybe it was his wet, full lips, or the fact that his lashes were so close you could count the endless, luscious hairs. Maybe it was the soft tingle in your core that tightened with each lingering touch of his hands.
Then, he lifted himself up before gently pushing you off his lap. "You're nervous; I get it. It's because you're on top of me."
He loomed over you, a playful twinkle in his eyes so faint you wouldn't catch on if he weren't your best friend. An annoying kid you forced to be your friend.
Naturally, you pushed yourself back until your back hit the cushions. Blinking up at Sae, who stopped himself short when you lay down, your hand tugged on the hem of his shirt.
You knew what that meant; so did Sae. A silent plea for something more than kissing. A silent prophecy that if he leant down, he wouldn't be able to get back up again.
Fucking Sae Itoshi, the idea of that was too surreal. You knew he had experience, that being a prodigy meant plenty of beautiful men and women threw themselves at his feet. You knew that he lived in an entirely different world from yours for five years, doing who knows what out there.
Still, you wanted him. You wanted him bad.
You frowned. "...Sae."
"This is going a bit far, don't you think?" He said, eyes averting from yours.
"I thought you wanted to."
"...I do."
"Then why are you hesitating?"
"I'm not supposed to touch you like this—"
"But you already have," you cut in. "Why are you acting like I'm some kind of... some kind of nun?"
"Pfft— You kinda are."
"That's not even true!"
"You are really innocent, sweetheart. It's not a bad thing."
You bristled. Sweetheart?
"Sae, c'mon," You tugged harder, watching his jaw clench. "Please."
He muttered. "Don't say that."
"Please."
You tugged on him a little harder, but this time, he let himself fall over you, hands bracing on each side of your head.
He pressed his lips against your forehead once, the action more intimate than you liked to admit. Like he was afraid of breaking you.
"You do know what you're asking for, right?" He whispered against your temple, carefully moving to the shell of your ear. "I don't wanna pressure you into anything."
"I—" You paused, trying to ignore the shivers trickling down your spine. "I want this."
"Are you sure?"
"Sae," you whined. Was he teasing you again? Your chin tilted to face him, your gaze softening at his unsure one. It was so uncharacteristic of him. Completely unlike the impassive boy you grew up with.
"M'sure."
"Okay," he nodded, cheek softly nuzzling against yours. "You're in charge then."
You weren't so sure what he meant, but your eyes shut and carefully found his lips. His kiss was slow and carnal, nose brushing the side of your own and large hands snaking around your waist. He squeezed you so softly, as if it were afraid of your departure, and held you close. So close that his breath felt like your own.
Your hips lifted to accommodate his hands, sliding to paw at your ass. His tongue gently prodded in the expanse of your mouth, darting around before stilling just at the tip of yours.
A noise of confusion escaped your throat as you scrunched his collar.
Sae hummed, laughing quietly against your mouth. "C'mon, kiss me too. You wanted this, right?"
The thought made you squirm beneath him, hands gripping tighter. He gently grasped your wrists and redirected them over his shoulders, coaxing you further.
"Wan' you." You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. "I do wan' you."
Your lips reconnect, this time slipping into the cavern of his mouth and rolling your tongue against his. The wet friction sent shocks of electricity between your legs. Your tongue prodded behind his teeth before licking the roof of his mouth.
"Don't get shy on me now," he whispered. "Get your tongue deeper."
Your tongue pushed deeper at his words. So warm. So nasty. So fucking good.
He hummed, lips sensually following the pace of your own, hands grazing whatever he could touch. His tongue dragged over yours to poke your inner cheek, laughing when you whined and pulled him closer.
You pulled away breathlessly, only disrupted from his lips chasing yours into one last, searing kiss.
"Sae—" You gasped.
He gently pecked your lips. "Sorry. Got carried away."
You panted, temple pressed against his cheek as you caught your breath. Your thighs rubbed together from the hot ache between your legs, sparking with each fleeting second.
"You're wet, aren't you?"
Your head tilted up, your eyes widening at him. "What?"
Sae was breathless and debauched, his lips swollen and wet from your own, magenta hair dishevelled from your hands, almost revealing the baby bangs he liked to hide after turning sixteen.
"Here," two fingers shakily slipped past to press against your clothed pussy. "Feels good, right?"
You squirmed, fingers clasping around his wrist. "T-That feels good."
"You want me to help you?" He panted, softly thumbing your clothed slit. "You can say no."
"No— I mean, yes."
You paused, eyes darting to the sheets instead of his curious gaze. "...Do you have a condom?"
He was at your place, after all. And frankly, you were gravely underprepared for this kind of situation.
"Idiot," he laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "We won't be needing that for a while."
The chill of the AC hit your skin when Sae tugged your shorts over your ankle, fingers smoothing over your clothed mound.
"Hm," he mused, tapping his index over the wet patch of your panties. "You're really wet."
His digits were twitching over your pussy, hooking beneath the edge of the cotton fabric. Like the urge to push your panties to the side was killing him.
A flush crept down your neck, gaze settling on the sheets. "No—No shit."
He made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, tapping over a particularly sensitive part of yours—one stationed above your hole, twitching when he rubbed it.
Your hips jolted at his touch, his index slowly circling the beady sweet spot. "Mm!—"
Then, his hand pulled away, moving to the curve of your ass. With a gentle tug, he hooked your panties' waistband down. "Up."
Your hips lifted as he tugged away the last remnant of privacy you had. Any semblance of comfort washed away from the cold air and his lingering gaze, the fabric hooking over the same ankle your shorts were.
"Hey, relax." Sae clicked his tongue when you squirmed, his warm hand moving to rest on your knee. "Eyes on me."
You tried to listen, focusing on his collarbones, his shirt, and fragments of his messy hair, but nothing worked. You couldn't meet his gaze, not when he stared at you so intently. Not when he could see every part of you. Not when his fingertips moved to press against your entrance.
Was this really what you imagined fucking Sae would be like? Not like you had imagined it or anything, just out of curiosity. He was never open about his personal life, but it was obvious that there was a side of him you've never seen. The weird phone calls. The weird disappearances. Hearing him curse and belittle others was the normal kind of crudeness you were used to with Sae. It was no doubt he was gentler with you—softer with you.
So to hear him be so blatantly vulgar?
He inched closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
"You say you want me," he started. "Then you do shit like this."
It was bewildering.
You fiddled with your fingers before finally tilting your head to face him, swearing you saw the faintest hint of a smile when he dipped the tip of his middle finger inside.
"Mm, good."
Something like a whimper escaped from your lips, unaware that you were actually able to make those kinds of noises. "S-Shit."
His brows furrowed as his finger gently prodded at your entrance. "You're—" Sae bit his inner cheek pensively, stilling his digits. "You're a little too tight."
You winced, feeling your hole stretch around his finger. "I-It hurts."
He immediately withdrew his finger. "You've touched yourself before, right?"
"Um, yeah? Not really, like this—"
Sae smoothed his hand along the underside of your thigh—an attempt to soothe you. But his eyes were wide and... chiding? "Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"Okay, well, I don't know how this works!"
"Oh my god." He sighed before sitting back. "C'mere."
You chuckled nervously. "To do what?"
"To do it yourself," he chided. "C'mon."
That's when you found yourself in an embarrassingly exposed position, settled right on Sae's lap, his knees stationed right between yours, spreading your legs.
"Can't believe you wanted to fuck before even masturbating..." He murmured, chin hooked over your shoulder.
You swallowed thickly, head turning away. So vulgar. "It's not m'fault I didn't know."
"It's not your fault. Should've prepped you better."
You huffed softly. "So why do I have to do it?"
"Because," his hand gently clasped over your dominant hand's wrist, snaking it down your exposed abdomen. "There's no way someone at our age hasn't touched themselves before."
"I have. Just not..."
"Fingering?"
Your ears burnt. "It hurts."
"Because you're not relaxed or turned on enough." He brought your index finger to rest over your sensitive bud. "This is your clit. Feels good to almost any kind of touch. Be gentle with it."
You bit your inner cheek, watching his hand guide you to rub your clit in slow circles. "I know what a clit is."
"...Nice to know that's the only thing you've touched in the past nineteen years."
Your head snapped towards his. "Hey!"
He snickered, ignoring your huff. "So, if you want to cum..."
His lips ghosted over your ear, whispering softly. "Touch here. Rub there. Doesn't matter. But you could always..."
A soft whine escaped your throat as his hand guides you down further, stopping right at your entrance. "Make yourself feel good here."
Before you knew it, your middle finger was already dipping between your folds and inside your hole.
"Oh my god," you mumbled, brows furrowing. "Sae."
He hummed lowly. "Like that, go slow. It's good, hm?"
"S'good." you murmured, your finger now entirely inside.
"Feels even better when you curl your fingers."
Your brow twitched at his words, following curiously. "Wha... Okay."
His lips trailed down to the spot under your ear, kissing and sucking on the skin softly. "What do you usually think about when you touch yourself?"
His hand tapped the back of your own as you panted. "You."
It came out quicker than you expected, and in all honesty, it didn't even register properly from all the haze. But it was weird that after every call, every time you met Sae, you couldn't help touching yourself later that night.
It was something about his drawled voice, or the contour of his skin, or the flawlessness of his lashes or the chisel of his jaw. Or maybe it was his body, sculpted from divinity itself?
His breath hitched at your admission, fingers twitching over your hand.
You whined, pulling your finger out to push it back inside, curling to hit a sweet spot that made your toes curl. "I always think of you."
Something stiff throbbed against your ass cheek.
Your breath caught in your throat. Then, he bit down on your neck. Harder. "Ow—"
Sae seared your lips in a fervent kiss—all tongue and teeth and the intimate squeeze of your waist. He drank down every noise you made, panting against your mouth, swirling his tongue along yours.
"Let me help you," he panted, shaky fingers moving to gently pinch your clit. "Need to help you."
You moaned into his mouth, hips jolting from his touch. "S-Sae."
"Two fingers, you can do that, right?"
Swallowing thickly, you panted over his lips as he pecked you. "Mm—"
"C'mon," he muttered, pressing wanton kisses down your jaw. "Gonna make you feel s'good."
You pressed your ring finger to your entrance, pushing in slowly, wincing. "Hurts, Sae."
"Shh," he hushed against your cheek. "You can take it."
His index and middle rubbed against your puffy clit in a desperate side-to-side motion. Brows twitching with each passing second, he panted heavily. Your hips lifted in shock, fingers instinctively curling inside you.
Oh, you hit that good spot. It was spongy and rigid and oh so sweet.
You moaned, head thrown back over his shoulder. "Ah..."
"That's—" he sputtered, fingers continuing their relentless attack. "That's your g-spot. Should feel different from the rest of ya. Should feel really good."
Wet noises filled the room as you pistoned your fingers in and out of your hole, bracing yourself atop your best friend. Even though he was talking in your ear, breathy and hot as he always did, nothing registered. Every sense you had was being replaced by the overwhelming sensation of sweet bliss, your jaw slack and eyes shut.
"Curl your fingers more. Yeah, like that, deeper. Shit, you're—"
You whimpered, hips jerking as he continued to rub and roll your clit. "Sae, think m'gonna do that thing where I... F-Fuck."
He let out a quiet whine against your shoulder. "You are?"
"Y-Yeah, aren't y-you supposed to be the expert?"
"Sh— Shut up."
Just as something hot and unbelievably euphoric was about to snap, his fingers pulled away, panting harshly over your shoulder.
You huffed, your brain foggy. "Wha... Why?
"Not yet," he muttered. "Not yet."
Before you knew it, he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. "You sure this is your first time masturbating?"
He pecked your lips, descending to your chest, pressing soft kisses to your clothed nipples and down your stomach. "You're pretty good at it."
"Pretty good?" you murmured, jolting every time he kissed your stiffening buds. "Thank you?"
His low-lidded gaze flitted down to your drenched slit, lips spasming at the sight.
You frowned as he settled between your thighs. "Sae, no."
"No more?"
"No," you shook your head, hand scrambling to tug at his collar. "I didn't do anything for you."
"...You don't need to."
You huffed, spotting the tent in his sweats. "Don't lie."
"M'being serious," he grabbed your hand, pressing a hot kiss to your palm. "I want to do this."
You sputtered at his words, embarrassed that he was inching so close to your bare pussy. Panting, you whined. "Do what?"
"Eat you out."
"What? Oh my god, that is so—" you stammered. "So embarrassing!"
His hands smoothed over your inner thighs, spreading them apart. "No, it's not."
"Yes it is. Sae, get up!"
He huffed as you pulled at his collar again, his sigh blowing warm air over your wet folds, making you yelp.
"How about this?" He reached for the blanket urged aside. "You see a blanket instead of me. Way better, right?"
You huffed. "You say that like I don't want to see you..."
"Isn't that what that is?"
"I don't want you to see me!"
"But you're so pretty." He pressed a kiss right on your clit, making you jolt. "And so sweet."
Your ears burnt as he pressed another kiss on your slit and another on your entrance.
"Okay, okay. We'll use the blanket."
"Alright," he hummed, pressing one last kiss to your clit again.
"Fun."
It was weird, feeling the ghost of his breath but only seeing a broad figure under your blanket.
Your legs were spread over his shoulders, thighs marked with soft kisses and bites Sae spent minutes on perfecting, murmuring something almost biblical to himself.
Then, you felt his fingers spread your lips in a V-shape, letting your head fall back on the cushions.
One breath.
Then, the second.
And on the third, still, nothing came.
"What are you doing down there?!" You whined, heel digging into his defined back.
You were only met with silence, but from the hot wave of air, you knew he was annoyed.
You scrunched your nose. So typical of him.
Then, he spoke from under the blanket. Low and teasing. "Your clit is all puffy."
"...What?"
He leaned down, pressed his lips to the bud and whispered. "And you smell s'good."
Then, his tongue licked a slow strip from your weeping hole all the way to your sensitive bud. The entirely new sensation washing over you in ways you could never imagine, your teeth catching your bottom lip.
"Oh, fuck. Sae..." Your hand reached under the blanket, tangling in his magenta locks.
His tongue slowly swirled around your clit, switching to softer kitten licks, slowly bobbing his head. You whined, thighs clamping around his head. "Ah— t'much!"
Your thighs squeezed shut around his head, so close that your knees grazed each other and the sweat from his hair smeared against your thighs. Sae huffed and wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud, slurping it into his mouth harshly.
You moaned sweetly, cheek pressing against the cushioning. "F-Fuck!"
Finally, you loosened up enough for him to catch your thighs off guard. His fingers dug into the plushness and pushed them apart, all the way until your knees hit the cushions.
"Too much?" Sae hummed, spitting into your messy hole. "You're so dramatic."
Dramatic? He was the one seriously overwhelming you!
His tongue webbed out, swirling around your entrance before licking up your folds. Spreading your labia with his tongue in a firm, upward lick, soothing the fold with soft, barely-there kisses.
Then, he sealed his mouth over your entire pussy.
"Sae," you whimpered, fingers pulling his hair in warning. "Don't even think about it."
A soft huff vibrated against your folds, his snicker evident. His thumb gently rubbed your thigh like some kind of apology. Then, he sucked your pussy in one, harsh motion.
"Oh my god—" you cried, thighs struggling to close against his strong grip. "C-Can't!"
"Mm," he murmured against your folds, his tongue moving to swirl around your entrance again, the tip gently prodding its way inside. "You can."
Your fingers sharply pulled at his hair. "S-Sae!"
He grumbled, the vibrations sending tremors into your pussy. "Stop movin'."
"Can't," your eyes squeezed shut when his tongue pushed in, firmly licking your sweet spot. "Sae, I c-can't."
Sae's tongue withdrew, soothing your pussy with wet, apologetic kisses, lips pressing over your inner thighs. "Why? What's wrong?"
You panted, fingers still gripping his hair. "...I told you I can't."
"Can't what?" he hummed, thumb reaching to rub your clit in slow circles. "Cum?"
"Cum." Your cheeks burnt at the word. "No, I do wanna cum."
He panted harsh breaths against your thigh and pussy, the oxygen levels decreasing by the minute under the blanket. "You're pissing me off. You say wanna cum, but you can't take it?"
"H-How is that my fault?"
He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it aside. His bangs were all sweaty and pushed back over the rest of his hair. Sweat beaded at his temples, some reaching down his neck.
And his lips quivered, his entire mouth drenched with your wet slick, smeared over his cheeks and nose. Sae huffed lowly, cerulean gaze focused on the cushions, catching his breath. "M'going as slow as I can."
"I-I'm trying to keep up with you."
He scoffed. "...Yeah 'course you are."
You huffed. "I don't like your attitude."
"Okay then," he retorted, eyes threatening to roll. "So stay still. I'm not using a blanket this time."
Your breath hitched as he settled between your legs again, fingers tracing circles over your hips.
"And," he hummed. "M'not letting you hide."
Before you could process what that meant, he steadied his hands over your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. You could only see the open window from this view. Not Sae. Not a blanket. Nothing.
Your feet kicked squeamishly, though it didn't help much. "Wait!— This is so embarrassing—"
His lips found the seam between your thigh and ass, pressing a soft kiss to the warm skin. "Hn, stop squirming."
"How can I?" You buried your face in your hands. "You can literally see everything and I wanna die—"
You were cut off with a soft moan, his thumbs spreading your lips to slurp up your dripping hole, tongue prodding into your hole. His fingers dug into your ass cheeks, groping it harsher—needier.
"Fuck," he groaned softly, kissing down your folds until he found your sensitive bud. He sealed his lips around it before sucking fervently, noises growing as you squirmed. "Fuck, fuck. You taste s'good."
He almost growled into your cunt, moving to press kisses to your ass cheeks, softly biting down on the flesh.
Your hand wrings back to grab at him—his shirt, his shoulder—to be met with a firm hand clasping your wrist. He pinned it to the couch as he leaned down again, lapping his tongue over and over at your clit.
He was breathing—panting so hard that his exhaling puffed air into your hole. "S-Sae!" You moaned softly into the cushioning. "Oh my god—Sae!"
Something warm tightened in your abdomen. It was hot and electric and aching to explode, just like the times when you'd touch yourself, but this was much more. So much more.
You panted into the cushions, soft moans and whines escaping you as he ate your pussy. He was relentless; he always was, but this was a different kind. Sae could do anything, say anything, but when he promised you pleasure and brought you heaven?
Holy shit, it was too much that you could go crazy any second now.
"Let me tell you somethin'," he broke your thoughts, murmuring as his tongue slid out of your hole. "When you feel something so good you think you'll go crazy. Say you're cummin'."
"I-I know what that is."You whined, seeing that sort of language in the porn you read and watched, but not exactly knowing when to use it. "I think."
He muffled a scoff against your cunt, switching to long, firm licks up your entire pussy. "Wow. Genius over here."
You felt the warmth spread down your stomach to your thighs and cunt and clit and everywhere, fingers clawing into the cushioning. "Okay! Okay, I'm... M'cummin!"
You could feel his brow quirk, lips ghosting over your clit. "You're what?"
You were close, so close to the pressure releasing. But now, your cheeks were burning because Sae couldn't help but bully you about sex language. "I'm... I'm—"
He smiled against your pussy, the curve faint but there, and wrapped his lips around your bud one last time, flattening his tongue and sucking harshly—so harsh you could see stars.
"M'cummin'!"
White dots skewed your vision, and you swore you had died just now, but the pressure released, getting licked softly from Sae's tongue.
But oh, it still felt so good after you came, grinding onto his wet muscle. "Ah, Sae..."
His tongue stilled as you ground on his face, fingers digging into your ass cheeks harder. "Now's the time you get eager?"
"Sh— Shut up." You whined as he freed your wrist. "Oh my god."
He began to lap again, a little softer but pleasing against your puffy clit. "Mm," he hummed. "You came this time."
"I already told you— I know what that is—"
He slurped your clit into his mouth, the sensation all too overwhelming for your current senses. "Ah!"
"I know you know. Just telling you." Sae said, pressing one last gentle kiss to your bud before pulling away.
You panted against the cushions, only now realising the drool pooling in your mouth. Your ass was still perched in the air, your whole body dripping from sweat.
Sae swallowed thickly at the sight, his own erection throbbing against the cushions.
He didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Sae was your best friend. Someone your mom entrusted to you. Someone you'd watch romance anime with. Someone who purposely didn't laugh at your jokes, just to see you get angry,
But you tasted so fucking sweet. Your noises were so pretty, so alluring. He'd have to die before leaving his place between your legs.
And you kept arching like it was his responsibility to teach you. Touch you. Make you cum over and over until you couldn't think of anyone else but him.
And maybe as your best friend, the boy you knew since you were in diapers?
It was.
"One more." His hand moved to grope your ass cheeks again, flipping you onto your back. "Give me one more. I know you can. Just one more."
"Wha?... Sae. "You whined, so clearly fucked out, not even bothering to glance at him.
"You can do it," he whispered, leaning down to press several shaky kisses to your wet folds.
"For me. C'mon."
BONUS!
The summer after you graduated high school, you found yourself back at home in Kamakura. The weather was scorching, sweat beading down your neck as you stared at the ceiling. Your feet were perched over the side of your bed, back pressed against your cool floor.
"Did you finish?" you murmured, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sitting on the floor against your bed was Sae, who had come back from Madrid to spend the summer with family. Frankly, in the past three weeks he had been here, he had not spent one day with his family.
Well, maybe aside from his mom, but everyone liked Mrs Itoshi. Besides her, he always had some lame excuse to work out, go on a jog, meet someone, go to Tokyo, or spend time with you.
You didn't mind, really. It just meant summers were meant for Sae.
"Shut up, m'almost done." He said, checking off the boxes on his phone. He wore a black T-shirt, legs crossed in a pair of basketball shorts, accentuating the muscles he had been gaining over the past few years.
Was it weird to stare?
Your head tilted faintly, settling on his concentrated face. He had been getting pretty good-looking recently, a little more than you'd like to admit. Since last year, he's been pushing his bangs back. His bangs were cute—almost childlike, but him with this new style... It certainly brought out his blessed facial structure and his lashes. Also, the glowiness of his skin—
Oh my god, ew, that sounds so dick hungry.
And that was certainly not towards Sae Itoshi.
"Done," Sae tilted his phone towards you, a bright red sixty-four illuminating from his screen.
"What the fuck have you been doing in Spain?" You immediately propped yourself up, snatching his phone. "A rice purity of sixty-four?"
He shrugged. "Why would I tell you?"
"Last year when you came back, it was like, an eighty-seven."
"Things change."
"Whore."
Sae rolled his eyes, taking his phone back. "You'll get there one day."
You scrunched your nose as he petted your hair—outwardly affectionate, but you knew he was being annoying.
"I don't wanna be like you." You swat his hand away. "I am totally okay with my ninety-two. Totally okay."
He stared at you blankly. "...Riiight."
You whined, sighing. "Maybe I'm not, but will that day come any sooner?"
"Y'know, in order to get some, you have to...put yourself out there. Talk to people. Flirt."
"Oh, fuck off," you reached to pinch his side, grinning when he groaned.
"You're too old to be doing this."
"We're eighteen, dumbass."
He grumbled, efficiently moving four feet away from you. "Wonder who your first kiss is gonna be, or somethin'. I feel bad for him."
Then, Sae groaned again when you threw a pillow at his face.
he’s always thinking of you, buying you little trinkets or treats he thinks you’ll enjoy while he’s out and about— your friends note that when he meets up with you, he never shows up empty-handed. your friends don’t mind him tagging along on your hangouts at all; he doesn’t complain or even mind when he’s holding dozens of bags, and he’s actually a fantastic person to gossip with.
when he drops by for a surprise visit to your house, he brings food for you— and enough for your whole family. your mother adores him, how sweet he is to you and how sweet he is in general. your father appreciates the extra help around the house, and even if he won’t admit it, is happy to monopolize alexis’s muscles by getting him to do some yard work that he’s been meaning to get around to. your sibling even meshes well with him, getting to see more of alexis’s snappier side in the banter they often exchange with him.
alexis is the perfect boyfriend— and you’re the perfect partner for him, given the way you turn a blind eye to his more… concerning behaviors. (maybe even more than that, with the way you feed into them, at times.)
if anyone asks how you two got together, you tell them the practiced and memorized tale of how alexis had very shyly confessed to in one of the campus cafes while offering you a pastry he’d bought just moments before.
it made for a better, more acceptable story than the truth: he’d been stalking you around campus for months, nearly an entire year.
you’d noticed, of course, but only after a while; you had no idea exactly how long he’d been watching you, only that you were aware of it for about a year. it probably should have disturbed you more than it did, but you didn’t particularly mind; alexis was more than just easy on the eyes, and you found his flustered state around you very endearing, and so you allowed his little obsession with you to fester, figuring it harmless.
and then, one day, you found him hiding out in your closet, taking photos of you through the slats in the door.
while you’d been masturbating.
anyone else would have, understandably, freaked out. screamed, thrown things at him, called the police. done something, anything other than what you did.
you, with a few screws of your own knocked loose, had gone up to him and traced a tantalizing finger down his chest. with your head tilted the size, you fixed wide eyes on him and asked, “do you want me to pose for you?” he’d had to stifle a moan when you leaned closer to him and whispered, “i’ll even let you dress me, if you want.”
things had escalated very quickly after that, in terms of both that moment and your overall relationship.
(he made you feel so good that night.)
your relationship with alexis is perfect, so long as no one knows about the little things: the bottomless collection of photos he has of you, the near-suffocating way he dotes on you, the location he’s constantly tracking, the way he has every little detail about you memorized, the way he’ll sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and you hold you tight, too tight, and ask “you won’t leave me, right? not like my family? not like him?”
maybe there’s something more than just a little wrong with him. there’s certainly something a little wrong with you for being okay with it.
but you’re keeping each other happy, and that’s what matters, right?
alexis ness is your man, whether you like it or not !
if you had a nickel for every time ness has shown up at your doorstep under unfortunate circumstances, you wouldn’t have to work for the rest of your life.
a thunderstorm has been clattering your apartment complex for the past few hours, with every flash of lightning nearly making your heart beat out. you try to stay in your room and wait the storm away—
until the doorbell rings.
you jump, feeling the blood rush through every single vein in your body. your heart is still pulsing when you open the front door, only to be met with wet hair, pale skin, and teary magenta eyes.
“love, i missed you.” ness sniffles. he’s totally pathetic, all 5 feet 11 of him weak and malleable. “it’s raining so hard right now. can i come inside, please? i won’t bother you, i promise.”
he looks like a kicked puppy, you can’t help but think.
but stray dogs can find other kind owners too, you repeat to yourself internally. maybe you should take some of your own advice, because you only sigh and open the door further, allowing ness inside.
he immediately squeezes you into a bone-crushing hug. “darling, darling, i’m so sorry. i promise, i’ll never hurt anyone again, promise. not unless you tell me to.” his hands find themselves into your hair.
he had punched your friend who asked you what the homework was. her skull was cracked. how would an apology fix anything? ness didn’t even pay for the hospital bills, even though his salary on bastard münchen was more than enough to cover the money.
“ness, i—“ your throat went dry; you could almost hear his heart breaking at the last name. “alexis, it’s not that, it’s just…you can’t apologize for this stuff and expect it to be over. i need a break from you. a long one.”
ness gradually pulled away from embracing you, and your chest began to knot at the tears in his eyes. “honey, please,” he fell to his knees in front of you. “just take me back, okay? i can’t live without you. truly, i’ll never do it again. i haven’t been eating or sleeping without you, and i can’t make a single pass at practice.”
he shakily took yours hands, and sandwiched them between his own. “babe, i love you. please.”
you had promised yourself to quit him. to stop letting him back in every time he hurt your emotions—or hurt someone close to you. because every promise he made was nothing but a little white lie.
but if there was even a ghost of a chance that ness was telling the truth, even for only a few days, then you had to let him come back.
and how could you say no to that?
“alexis, stand up.” you murmured, trying to tug him up. “c’mon, i’ll get you a towel. let me dry your hair, mkay? it’s not good to stay out in the rain for the so long, you’ll get sick.”
a slow smile of relief began to make way onto his face. “thank you so much, babe! i love you!” he embraced you once more, burying his face into your shoulder.
but you didn’t know. ness was always by your side, even when you were angry at him.
behind you at the mall. at the next table over at a restaurant. in front of the next check out line at the grocery store. diagonal from you at your lectures.
close enough to be watching you, always.
but you didn’t need to know that. instead, ness melted in your warmth, tiny hearts etched in place of his pupils.
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