Feb 10, 2025
not now kitten daddy is writing reader insert fanfiction about highly problematic fictional men
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not now kitten daddy is writing reader insert fanfiction about highly problematic fictional men
KINKTOBER – AUGUST 2025
31 days. 31 characters. 31 perversions.
[This is my personal Kinktober, starting a little early this year.
Every day of August, I’ll post a different NSFW fanfic featuring a new character and a different kink.
Some stories will be emotional, others filthy. Some soft, others intense.
Below is the full schedule.
Minors DNI. NSFW content ahead. Read at your own risk.]
Day 1: Nam-gyu (Squid Game) – Praise kink
Day 2: Niragi (Alice in Borderland) – Degradation kink
Day 3: Wi Ha Joon– Choking
Day 4: Jimin (BTS) – Overstimulation
Day 5: G-Dragon – Size kink
Day 6: Gi-hun (Squid Game) – Breeding kink
Day 7: Felix (Stray Kids) – Face sitting
Day 8: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) – Public/semi-public sex
Day 9: Chishiya (Alice in Borderland) – Mirror sex
Day 10: Roh Jae-won – Hand kink
Day 11: Dae-ho (Squid Game) – Fear kink
Day 12: Nanno (Girl From Nowhere) – Blood kink
Day 13: Nijiro Murakami – Knife play
Day 14: In-ho (Squid Game) – Dubcon
Day 15: Arisu (Alice in Borderland) – Tease and denial
Day 16: Yoon Gwi-nam (all of us are dead)– Begging kink
Day 17: Hyunjin (Stray Kids) – Voyeurism
Day 18: T.O.P – Spit kink
Day 19: Karube (Alice in Borderland) – Fingering kink
Day 20: Tatta (Alice in Borderland) – Possessiveness/Jealousy sex
Day 21: Choi San (Ateez) – Lingerie kink
Day 22: Jun-ho (Squid Game) – Cockwarming
Day 23: Kyuma (Alice in Borderland) – Sensory deprivation
Day 24: Yoongi (BTS) – Dry humping
Day 25: Banda (Alice in Borderland) – Thigh riding
Day 26: Salesman (Squid Game) – Power play / Dom & Sub
Day 27: Chota (Alice in Borderland) – somnophilia
Day 28: keeho (p1harmony) – Exhibitionism
Day 29: J-hope(BTS)– Corruption kink
Day 30: Ippei Oki (Alice in Borderland) – Breath play
Day 31: Jeon jungkook and Kim Taehyung (BTS)– Double penetration
Tag: @dontphunkwithmylove @bellliiiss @lunaryoongie @raemanova @daydreamqueenjaycee @wh0re4horror @xxwelshqueenxx @alex110370000 @feraldb @numberonesimpintheuniverse @iluvtabiii
[If you want to be tagged here, just ask me in the comments. And if you like it, reblog, like, and follow me ♡]
AIB x Reader where reader is extremely clingy, cuddly, and touchy with them. Like whenever reader is with them, reader needs to be hugging them, holding their hand, cuddling them, or leaning on them 24/7
AIB Characters react to Reader being clingy
A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long. I've just gotten a puppy, so I haven't had much time the past few days. I still hope you like it!
content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 3.451 words
Ann
Ann had always been composed. Private. Untouchable, almost. She didn't flinch in life-or-death situations, never raised her voice, and rarely smiled in front of others. She'd spent most of her life learning to be still—calm in chaos. Which made you, by all accounts, the opposite of everything she was used to.
You clung to her like static. A walking, talking, warm-blooded koala with a heart too big for your own body. The first time you held her hand in front of everyone at the Beach, she nearly pulled away on instinct—not out of discomfort, but surprise. You had beamed at her like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"You don't like holding hands?" You'd asked, tilting your head.
She stared at your interlocked fingers. "It's not that I don't like it."
You leaned your head on her shoulder, unapologetically content. "Then I'll just keep doing it."
And you did.
Whenever you walked together, your hand always found hers. When you sat down to eat, your leg pressed to her thigh like magnetism. When she was patching a wound or cleaning her gear, you were either leaning on her, cuddling her arm, or slumping against her back. Like it was a reflex. Like your body simply needed to be touching hers to function.
At first, it was… distracting.
Ann was used to solitude. Quiet corners. The absence of warmth. You, however, treated physical affection like oxygen.
She tried to resist, once.
You had dozed off against her after a long patrol, your arm slung across her stomach and your nose buried in her neck. Ann lay there stiffly, staring at the ceiling of the dark dorm room like it might offer answers. She debated gently moving you off her, but you made a small content noise in your sleep and cuddled closer.
She didn't move after that.
Eventually, your clinginess stopped being strange. It just became… you.
Like when you plopped down beside her during a strategy meeting, immediately draping yourself across her lap with zero shame. Arisu gave a short, surprised laugh. Chishiya didn't even look up.
Ann didn't say a word. She just reached out and began running her fingers through your hair while she listened to the game plan.
After that, no one questioned it.
There were still moments when it caught her off guard. Like when you wrapped your arms around her waist while she was sharpening a knife, or when you hugged her from behind in the hallway and buried your face between her shoulder blades.
"You could have startled me," she murmured once.
"You knew it was me," you mumbled into her back.
She couldn't argue with that.
One night, after a long and grueling Hearts game, Ann returned bloodied and bruised. You were waiting in her room, pacing like a nervous animal. The moment you saw her, you practically tackled her with a hug.
"You're okay," you whispered, voice thick.
She winced slightly but didn't push you away. You were trembling.
"I thought—what if you didn't come back? I didn't even get to say goodbye properly—"
Ann's arms wrapped around you, firm and grounding. "I'm here."
You pulled back just enough to cup her face. "You're not allowed to leave me. Ever. Got it?"
There was something teary and fierce in your expression—your love wrapped in desperation.
Ann didn't flinch from it. She reached up, rested her hand over yours, and nodded once.
"I'm not going anywhere."
You curled into her chest and held her like the world was ending. She let you. And when she finally lay down beside you, she didn't resist when you latched onto her like a starfish.
She just closed her eyes… and pulled you closer.
Kuina
Living in the Borderlands meant accepting a certain level of unpredictability: deadly games, crumbling buildings, and people who could snap at any moment.
And then there was you.
You, with your relentless affection, soft eyes, and the absolute refusal to go more than five minutes without touching Kuina in some way.
She first noticed it when you started draping yourself across her lap during downtime at the Beach, completely unfazed by the stares from other residents. You'd hum little songs under your breath while tracing lazy shapes on her arm. Or you'd press your cheek to her shoulder like it was the comfiest pillow on earth—even if she was actively cleaning a blade.
"Do you ever sit on your own chair?" she asked one afternoon, cocking an eyebrow as you once again settled yourself half on top of her.
You blinked at her. "But your lap is right there."
Kuina smirked. "Fair point."
It wasn't just about sitting. You were tactile in every situation.
If you were walking, you were holding her hand—or her sleeve—or looping your arm through hers like it was second nature. If she was eating, you were leaning against her side, sometimes stealing bites from her plate with the most innocent expression imaginable. If she was gearing up for a game, you were fixing her collar, brushing her hair behind her ear, giving her a forehead kiss like you were sending a soldier off to war.
It should have been overwhelming. Too much. Clingy, even.
But it was you.
And with you, nothing ever felt like too much.
After one particularly brutal Diamonds game, Kuina limped back into the compound, blood crusted on her knuckles, muscles aching. She expected to collapse in bed, maybe shower if she could keep her eyes open long enough.
Instead, she found you waiting at her door.
You didn't say anything. You just opened your arms and let her fall into them.
You hugged her so tightly she could feel the beat of your heart against hers—like it was trying to sync with her own.
"You're late," you whispered into her hair.
"Game ran long," she mumbled, burying her face into your neck.
You pulled her into the room and onto the mattress in one smooth motion, wrapping yourself around her like a blanket.
She blinked at you in the dark. "You're going to suffocate me."
"I will die before I let you sleep alone tonight."
Kuina laughed—soft and real—and tangled her legs with yours.
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
And damn it, she did.
But it wasn't until one night, another post-game, when she was trembling from adrenaline and anger and the ghosts that always came back when it was too quiet, that she truly realized what your affection meant.
You didn't ask what had happened. You didn't demand she talk.
You just held her.
Arms around her back. Legs tangled. Fingers stroking through her hair.
And Kuina, who had built her life on strength and steel and silence, let herself be held.
"You're not subtle," she whispered into your collarbone, voice hoarse.
"I'm not trying to be," you murmured, kissing her temple. "I'm just trying to love you."
She didn't say anything.
But she didn't let go either.
Mira
If Mira was ice—elegant, composed, untouchable—then you were her fire. Not explosive, but warm. A slow, constant burn. You clung to her like you were solar-powered and she was your only source of light.
And she noticed.
The first time it happened, Mira had been seated in one of the plush velvet chairs in the Beach lounge, wine glass in hand, idly flipping through a deck of playing cards. You strolled in, casual as ever, and draped yourself over the arm of her chair like you belonged there.
Correction: you draped yourself half on the arm and half on her.
"Mmm. You're comfy," you sighed, tucking your face into the crook of her neck.
Mira blinked, amused. "Is that so?"
"Very. You smell like rose and danger."
She let out a soft, velvety laugh. "What an intoxicating combination."
From that moment on, you became a constant fixture by her side. Or on her lap. Or sprawled across her bed like a cat waiting to be pet. You always had to be touching her somehow—fingers brushing her wrist, head on her shoulder, hand intertwined with hers like the connection physically soothed something in you.
Others noticed, of course. Whispered about it.
"She's so clingy," a jealous player sneered one day when you leaned into Mira during breakfast, your legs draped across her lap like you owned her.
"She's affectionate," Mira corrected with a cool smile, her hand sliding into your hair. "And she's mine. That's all that matters."
You flushed. "...I mean, she's not wrong."
Sometimes, Mira tested you—pushed to see how far your need for closeness went.
She'd walk a few paces ahead of you, ignoring your outstretched hand just to see if you'd pout (you did). Or she'd sit just slightly out of reach on a couch, watching you squirm until you inevitably crawled over and curled into her side like you were magnetized.
"You're hopeless," she teased once, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"I get separation anxiety," you replied, arms firmly wrapped around her waist. "You're my emotional support queen."
There were quiet moments too—ones she never let anyone else see.
Late nights when you were half-asleep on her chest, murmuring nonsense. Days where she'd read aloud from a book while you rested in her lap, fingers ghosting through your hair. And after every game, no matter how bloody or brutal, she always let you cling to her like a lifeline.
"You don't have to touch me constantly, you know," she whispered once, voice oddly gentle.
"I know," you replied without opening your eyes. "But I want to."
Mira stared at you for a long moment, then pulled you closer.
"You're addicted to me," she said lightly, a smirk playing on her lips.
"And you love it," you shot back, grinning.
She kissed the top of your head like a silent admission.
Because she did.
Aguni
Aguni didn't know what to do with someone like you.
You were the kind of person who walked into a room and immediately gravitated toward him, like his presence had gravity. You clung to him like he was your anchor—which, ironically, was what he thought of you.
The first time it happened, you caught him off guard. He'd just come back from a brutal game—bruised, bloodied, adrenaline still racing through his system—when you ran straight into him, wrapping your arms tight around his waist.
"You're okay," you whispered against his chest, voice shaking slightly.
He stood stiff as stone, unsure what to do with the sudden affection. You didn't even flinch at the blood on his shirt.
"…You always hug like this?" he muttered.
"Only when I'm worried," you said. "So… yeah. Pretty much all the time."
He grunted, but he didn't pull away.
From that day on, it was a pattern. You touched him constantly—an arm looped around his when you walked beside him, a hand on his back when he was brooding, curling up beside him on a couch like it was your designated spot. You weren't subtle. You didn't try to be.
Aguni, for the most part, tolerated it in silence. He wasn't exactly a words of affirmation kind of guy. But the way he subtly leaned into your touch, the way his hand always hovered just slightly before resting on your back? That was his version of returning it.
Once, Hatter made a joke about your attachment.
"Can't even go five minutes without clinging to him, huh?" he smirked.
Aguni shot him a glare so sharp it could've cut steel. "And?"
You beamed, clutching Aguni's arm tighter. "It's true. He's warm. And he's mine."
Late at night was when the vulnerability crept in—when his guard dropped enough to let you in deeper.
You'd lie across his chest, listening to his heartbeat, your fingers tracing the old scars on his arms. He rarely said anything. Just held you, big hand splayed across your back like he was afraid to let go.
One night, after a nightmare woke him, you curled around him without hesitation, draping yourself over his tense body like a blanket of safety.
"You always do this," he mumbled, voice gravelly.
"Do what?"
"Hold me. Even when I don't ask."
You looked up at him, your hand gently resting over his heart. "You don't have to ask. You never do."
He didn't respond. But he turned, pulling you fully into his arms like you were the only thing tethering him to the world.
"Thank you," he said quietly, rough and barely audible.
You smiled against his chest. "For what?"
"For always coming back."
Aguni didn't know how to be soft. But with you—your constant presence, your quiet affection, your need to always be touching him like it kept you both grounded—he didn't have to know how.
He just had to let it happen.
And he did.
Every single time.
Niragi
Everyone thought you were a little unhinged for being so attached to Niragi.
He was loud, volatile, armed, and not exactly known for being emotionally available. He flirted like it was a weapon, pushed people too far for fun, and had a temper shorter than a fuse soaked in gasoline.
And yet—there you were, latched onto him like he was your emotional support war criminal.
You hugged him constantly. Slung yourself across his lap in the common room like you owned the space. Played with his hair while he cleaned his rifle. Held his hand when he was in a mood, like that could keep the violence in check.
The first time you back-hugged him in public, everyone tensed like someone was about to die.
Instead of shoving you off, Niragi just muttered, "You're clingy as hell," but his hand casually found yours and stayed there.
No one knew what to do with that.
He never told you to stop.
"Do you ever not touch people?" he grumbled once as you climbed into his lap after dinner.
"Only when I'm dead," you replied sweetly, settling your head under his chin.
"Great," he huffed. "Guess I've got a parasite now."
But he didn't move you. His hand ended up resting on your thigh, tracing lazy shapes into your skin like it was second nature.
You brought him snacks before patrols. Pulled him down onto couches so he'd nap. Snuck into his bed when he stayed out too late after a game, curling up like a cat in his arms.
"You're gonna make people think I'm soft," he muttered once while brushing your hair out of your eyes.
"You are soft," you teased.
He gave you a sharp grin. "Only for you."
What no one saw was how he started seeking it out, too.
He got twitchy when you weren't around. Wouldn't admit it, but his mood tanked. And if anyone else tried to be touchy with you? He was suddenly at your side, draping an arm around your shoulders like a warning label: Mine.
"Didn't peg you as the jealous type," you'd whisper, amused.
"I'm not," he'd snap—before pressing a kiss just behind your ear, possessive and rough. "I just don't share."
One night, after a brutal Hearts game, you found him in your room instead of his. Shirt off, bruised and bloody, sitting on your bed like he belonged there.
"I didn't know where else to go," he said gruffly, not looking at you.
You didn't say a word. Just walked over, dropped to your knees in front of him, and wrapped your arms around his waist like you were the only thing holding him together.
He leaned into it.
Hard.
"You're still clingy as hell," he whispered into your hair.
"And you still love it," you replied.
He didn't argue.
Last Boss
No one touched Last Boss.
They didn't joke with him. Didn't pat him on the back. Didn't nudge him or loop their arm through his. He moved through the Beach like a ghost in boots, silent and sharp, sword always strapped to his back.
And then there was you.
The polar opposite.
You draped yourself over him like it was a habit — always hugging his arm, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, leaning into his side like he was made for it. If he sat, you sat closer. If he stood, you'd hold onto his jacket until he noticed you.
You were soft smiles and sleepy cuddles. A quiet hum when you were near him, like being close made you content in a way no one else could understand.
At first, people watched you with baited breath, sure you'd get sliced in half.
Instead, he let you stay.
One afternoon, you wandered into the quiet hallway where he was sitting alone, sharpening his blade.
Without a word, you plopped down next to him and curled your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. His hand paused mid-motion.
"…You're clingy," he said softly, not even turning.
"Mhm," you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed. "I missed you."
"We saw each other an hour ago."
"I still missed you."
There was silence. And then, slowly, he shifted — just enough so your head rested more comfortably against him, and his arm came to rest loosely around your back. His fingers brushed your side, hesitant, like you were something fragile.
At night, you curled up in his bed like a cat, pulling the blanket over both of you with zero shame.
"Don't you get tired of needing to touch me all the time?" he asked once, voice barely above a whisper.
"Nope," you replied, already halfway to sleep. "You're my favorite."
He stared at the ceiling for a long time after that. Then, gently, carefully, he tucked your hair behind your ear and let his hand rest there for a moment longer than necessary.
He never initiated — not in public. But when no one was around?
His hand would find your lower back. His thumb would trace circles against your arm. He would hold you so tightly some nights it was like he was afraid you'd vanish.
You never said anything. Just held him tighter.
You gave affection like oxygen. Constant, necessary, unyielding.
And Last Boss — blade-wielding ghost of a man — let himself breathe only when he had you in his arms.
Chishiya
Chishiya didn't do affection.
He didn’t need it. Didn't crave it. And definitely didn't expect it. People were liabilities, emotional messes he preferred to keep at arm's length — or further, if possible.
And then there was you.
You were like static electricity — always close, always buzzing. The kind of person who couldn't just sit next to someone. No, you had to lean against them. Hold their hand. Hook your pinky through theirs. Climb into their lap when you were bored and drape yourself across them like a blanket.
You were, by all definitions, clingy.
And for reasons unknown to everyone — including Chishiya himself — he let you be.
"I think you might be a cat," you told him once, lying across his chest as he read a weathered book by flashlight. “You always look so calm. Detached. But you get all twitchy when someone you don't like gets too close.”
"I'm not a cat," he replied, not looking up. "You're the clingy one. You're like… a human scarf."
You grinned and nuzzled under his chin. "Then wear me."
He sighed, but his hand found the small of your back anyway.
During games, you stuck to his side like a shadow. Arm brushing his, pinky loosely linked with his until he gently tugged your hand fully into his.
"You're distracting," he muttered under his breath during a particularly tense Diamond game.
"You still haven't let go," you whispered back, lips brushing his ear.
He didn't respond. But he squeezed your hand tighter.
Back at the hideout, you always found your way to him. If he sat on the couch, you'd stretch across it with your head in his lap. If he sat in a chair, you'd squeeze in sideways and curl up like it was built for two. If he went to bed first, you'd follow five minutes later, crawling under the covers to tuck yourself into his side.
And no matter how many times he rolled his eyes or exhaled like he was so put upon, he never moved away.
One night, you whispered against his collarbone, "Am I too much?"
He didn't answer at first. Just let the silence linger like it always did.
Then he murmured, "You're exactly enough. For me."
You smiled into his skin.
And though he didn't say another word, his hand slipped into your hair and stayed there long after you'd fallen asleep.
Masterlist
NSFW Alphabet - Chishiya Shuntaro and Niragi Suguru
Chishiya Shuntaro x reader | Niragi Suguru x reader
I swear this is my last one.. I should be updating my fic soon, but these are a lot more fun than I thought lol + adding songs from my favorite album that remind me of them. Also feel free to request any aib characters you want me to do a NSFW alphabet for!
Warning- Un-consensual sex, gore, ect.. basically Niragi being himself.
Niragi Suguru
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Aftercare? What's that? Your lucky if he even spares the time to lay with you after. Doesn't offer to clean you up after, or asks if you're okay.. maybe he'll take a shower with you after, but only if he gets a second round during it. After all, he loves the idea of his cum still being in you hours after.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves his dick, obviously. I mean, what would he do without it? He gets a kick out of his tongue piercing too, did you know they make vibrating one's? Not that he thinks he needs it to make you cum, but its a nice surprise. Niragi loves your ass and tits, basic - but not surprising. He's a perverted male after all.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Obsessed with it. Painting every inch of your body with it, fucking it deeper into you, using it as lube, making you suck him completely dry- don't even think about spitting any of it out, he will make you lick it back up.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Not much of a secret but he's a borderline sadist. Bondage, blood, knife play, he's into it all! He enjoys causing pain, inflicting it, making you feel completely helpless, fully at his will. He tie a chain to your neck like a dog, pulling it harder each time you tighten around him- shoving the nozzle of his rifle down your throat with the safety off, finger hovering over the trigger.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He's fucking people left and right, what do you think? He chases after his own pleasure always, your own is rarely on his mind - but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to cum. In fact if you don't, he thinks its a disrespect to his performance. If you don't, that means he'll pull out ever trick in the book until you cum- different positions, different rhythms, hitting every angle of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you shiver- bonus points if your orgasm is involuntary.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any position where he has you fully in control. Tied up, laying under his body weight, being constrained to him- it's not like you have a choice anyways. If he wasn't working in front of an audience, he will have his rifle at stand by at all time with several locks on his door.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Of course he'll laugh, he's doing one of his favorite things! He'll laugh at how pitiful you look, the sorrow on your face, your pained groans- but you laughing? Are you trying to get shot? He'll think your laughing at him, after all why would you be laughing with him? Your laughing will turn into pained wails soon enough.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Trimmed, most of the time. Although he has no problem letting it grow out if he's lazy enough, and if you don't like it? Who cares! Your opinion doesn't mean anything to him.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He's a murder rapist. Anything romantic is off the tables. The only thing he knows is the pure bliss of getting his dick wet. Now, if somehow you are able to squeeze past those thick ass walls Niragi has built around his heart- maybe if you treated him like an actual person, anything other than a rabid dog that needs to be put down- than maybe, he'll focus on if your enjoying yourself or not. The most romantic thing he'll do if whisper fabricated praises and encouragements in your ear- or asking if your up to try something different, he won't take no for an answer and if you ask him to stop he'll ignore you- but Niragi will give you a minute or too to calm down before going back at it. That's about as sentimental as he can be.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Funny. What the hell would you be for if he could just jerk off? The closest thing to self pleasure as he would do is getting off on your underwear, and that's only if your there watching- he'll make you wear the stained pair after too. Something about watching you stroll around the beach, talking with friends and just living your life in general while wearing something so personal that were smeared with his cum always made his dick twitch.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
What isn't he into is the real question. He'll get hard at the slight glance at you drenched in someone else's blood after a game- knowing you fought so hard to stay alive just to come crawling back to him. To his dick. He likes when you cry, when your covered in bruises and scars made by him, when you stare at him, claw at his back, try to fight him off- he loves it all.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere! At anyyy time! He has a love hate relationship with fucking in public. On one hand, he gets to watch as people scowl in horror, shoving what they can't have in their faces, putting you on display like he was wearing a designer coat. On the other, why do they deserve to see you in such a state? One specifically made for him to see? They shouldn't get to hear you while you reach your climax, perverted fuckers would probably use it to jerk off!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The adrenaline rush of the games mixed with rounds of rough sex after? Fucking life changing. That's when his stamina is at its highest, high chance you wont be able to walk properly for a few days after.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
If you try to act dominant, he will smack the shit out of you and force you to switch positions or he'll get soft in seconds. That doesn't mean he wont let you ride him or you cant give him small praises (although it will take him awhile to fell normal about it) but calling his a good boy or asking to peg him? He'll stare at you with disgust, waiting for you to laugh and say your fucking with him. If you don't, he'll make you say it either way for his sake.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Its more like throat fucking than an actual blow job. He's obsessed with the way you don't try and move when he's ball deep in your throat, you know better. Even if your gagging and huffing heavily through your nose, light headed and tense- all you can do stare through heavy-lidded eyes, silently waiting for it too end. Niragi also refuses to let you touch yourself during times like this, the way you desperately shuffle your hips back and forth against nothing always makes him smile. As for you, Niragi is well adjusted to female anatomy. He'll twirl his tongue, lick, suck, push- try anything to see what makes you gasp. Niragi surprisingly doesn't mind eating you out, especially when your so overstimulated you not sure what part of him in rubbing your clit.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow in not in Niragi's vocabulary. It's always hard, always quick, and always rapid. If he wan't to tease you, he'll pull out completely before you climax, or rub himself along your entrance letting himself play with your clit before pushing inside you. Rarely ever with prep.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If he must, he will. Made militants bring you to his room only to be called to a meeting a minute later? He'll try to bring you too, making you sit on his lap. Groping you in front of everyone, licking down your neck and kneeing between your legs. If he has to suffer the wait, so do they. That is if Aguni lets it pass, if not he'll fuck your throat and finish in seconds. Niragi can hold off for hours if he really wants too, but in situations like this he'll cum early. Plus, he knows you'll still be there when he's back, cause he won't let you leave.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
As long as its nothing putting him in "a pussy situation" as he calls it, he's all for it! Want him to pour hot wax on you? Why didn't you ask so sooner? He will even let the wax get hot enough to leave marks, spelling his name across your waist. He almost cums in his pants when you ask him to fuck you with his gun, safety off and fully loaded.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
However many until he's satisfied. Five, two, eight- depends on the day. If he feels nice he'll move to your mouth instead of your pussy after a few rounds, but only if you beg hard enough. Like I said before, he can edge himself for hours on end, making you climax for the fourth time by his first.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Not toys necessarily.. but he'll use unconventional items as sex toys if there close by. Fucking you against the beaches communal dryer, making sure your clit is pressed tightly against the edge of the metal. A candle sick as a butt plug, his boxers as a homemade gag, making you fuck yourself with a knifes handle. He doesn't need any toys, your body is enough for him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Eighty percent of your time spent together is Niragi edging you on, asking you how bad you want him before suddenly moving a few steps away, removing what ever form of contact you had and smugly watching your body arch towards him, begging for some form of contact. "Oh you poor baby," he'd say with mock sincerity, "Missing something?"
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He's loud and proud. Most grunts and moans, maybe a small whimper here and there but usually under his breath, like he's trying to hide them. He's a man after all, not a sex machine. Surprising, I know. The whole time he's verbal, dialogue never ending- he doesn't even seem to be speaking to you directly sometimes, more like to himself.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Enjoys anal and somnophilia (sleeping people). Anal is rare nonetheless, he needs to make sure your properly clean first- going as far as timing how long your in the shower. Anything less than five minutes? Get you ass back in there. Although its more taxing, knowing that your full of his cum in every way possible is worth it. Somnophilia makes his job easier. Simple as that. If your always tense and trying to reject him for entering you, why wouldn't he find you when your the most relaxed, most willing - to take you completely. The ease to push himself in you just to tighten a moment later, while fully emerged, sends an nice twitch to his dick.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Niragi's cocky, and for good reason. He's eight inches while hard, not the thickest but enough girth to make you wince. A light pink going into a harsh red at the tip, raging veins and slightly tilted to the left. He's overly proud of himself.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
On his mind every day- which, are we really surprised? In the morning, at night, during games, in meetings, while shoving a gun in front of a members face, seeing you cry and covered in blood after a game- even if its not his main concern, the idea is always wafting around in his brain. For your sake I hope you match his freak...
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Are you kidding? Sex gives him an energy boost like no other. He's seconds away from jumping around the pool, shooting and fighting people just for the fun of it - hell, he might even join a game early. So, sorry, no cute sleeping together after.
Chishiya Shuntaro
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Quiet. Maybe a grunt while wiping himself up and getting dressed, other than that he's non-verbal. Glances at you here and there, and if you don't clean yourself up he'll ask if you want him too- you always say yes and he always complies. He'll leave wordlessly after, at least for the first few times. If your close enough to be comfortable after the fact- than he'll stay in bed, and after his momentary silence will start spewing whatever analytical thoughts are coming to him. He always gets philosophical after sex.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Chishiya doesn't have a 'favorite' per say, he thought it was foolish- why would he have sex with you if he didn't like every part of you physically? And sure, he might enjoy the way your bikini top pushes your breast together a little to much. Or how easily your neck bruises and the feeling of your heartbeat escalating under his lips- but that doesn't mean he enjoys anything else about you any less. Once you asked, and he stared at you like you were dumb. "Why? So you can boast about it?" He asked, "So you do have a favorite! Honest, ass or tits guys?" As for himself.. he thought he was fine. Attractive enough to cause glances his way, and nothing close to ugly. Chishiya wouldn't go as far as too praise his himself, but he was comfortable being naked in others company.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Ehh.. it's a thing? No real opinion. Doesn't hate it doesn't love it- although he can appreciate it's side use as lube. As cold and restrained as he was mentally, his dick majorly missed the memo. Endless amounts of pre-cum and involuntary dick twitches whenever you so much as breathed on it. But like he said it could be useful.. especially when fucking your breasts. But he swears he doesn't care for either ass or tit any more than he says.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Loves the chase as much as actually having sex. Watching you from afar, prolonged eye contact, seeing how you react to the slight cleavage of his chest when he rolls his zipper down, to his hovering hand by your thigh. It heightens his senses, makes it harder to not want to touch you, not allowing him to see you- after all he has a habit of refusing himself what he wants.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He's a doctor, therefor knows his way around female anatomy. Where certain pressure points are located, where to find your clit, how to position himself in just the right way to make the heat in your stomach grow. As experienced as any normal guy, not a virgin with a body count under five- although it hardly shown as much. He could've told you he had four current fuck-buddies telling him exactly what too do and you wouldn't be surprised.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doesn't have one. Dumb question. If he's fucking you, he's in you anyways right? He lets the situation speak for itself. Your sitting on his lap? He'll guide your hips to ride him. He ends up on top of you- missionary it is. Never would he ever make you go into some obscene position to get his dick sucked a certain way, or too get a quarter inch deeper into you. Their horrible for your joints and muscles, and why would he want to tire you out so soon?
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Chishiya's rarely ever humorous in general, so why would he start now? The closest thing to a laugh he'll give is an amused huff whenever you give a sarcastic quip, or if you do anything he deems is stupid. You let out a nervous high-pitched giggle while undressing? He can't help but compare you too the girls at the beach- the ones who use faulty laughs in hopes of getting laid. If it wasn't for the unpleasant contrast to the other bikini-wearing girl's, it would have almost been something close to endearing.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Well-groomed, and highly hygienic- Chishiya couldn't fathom why anyone would willingly be dirty. He keeps it trimmed, never letting it grow past a certain point before shaving it down. Unlike most he doesn't care if your shaven or not- he just wants to know how often you shower.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Having romantic feelings is a big jump. You should be lucky if you can endues any feeling out of the man. He doesn't say anything with intimate underlining no matter how good your making him feel. Not because he's tempted too or he wants too.. and even if he did he wouldn't know what to say. After all the fact that he's letting you kiss him should be enough.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Chishiya knows the benefits of having an orgasm; it can relax you- physically and mentally, it's a stress reliever, causes a serration boost- yet he's just never felt the need. If he woke up with a boner he'll ignore it until it's gone most days, if it wont, he'll rub a quick one out. Simple as that. In fact its almost annoying, time consuming- having to search his brain for something that makes his dick twitch in satisfaction. At least you given him something to get off too quicker.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Humping. Feeling your hips running back and forth around his torso as the sheer feeling of the imprint of his dick, letting you get off on his leg while your giving him a blowjob, lazily pumping his dick while watching you hump a pillow because he refused to touch you, you rapidly rubbing your clit against his naked thighs- shorts be damned- you reaching your climax without him even having to touch you? Hottest thing you could do. Did wonders for his ego too.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In a room where he could lay and sit down. Why would he willingly be uncomfortable without reason? And it must be completely empty. No one else in sight. Chishiya didn't hate the idea of fucking in the shower, it made the clean up process a lot faster.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You. And not because of some sentimental outlook, but because of how real it was. You laid bare in front of him - literally and metaphorically - he knew your story, fears, skills, your treasures of the world- what was stopping him for shattering your esteem while you laid so earnestly below him? Or whispering degrading thoughts in your ear while you reach your orgasm, installing pleasure too your fears? Would he? Probably not. But the weight of another person in there entirely surged him to you. You'd let him kiss you in any way, touch you how he pleased, fuck you how he felt fit- you allowed him to have the higher power. He'd be lying if he said it didn't do things to him.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Role play. He simply wouldn't be able to get into character, and he wouldn't be able to see you in such a different light. Although he did play doctor once or twice.. but it made sense, if he is an actual doctor he's not playing a character, is he?
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
No preference, really. He likes the suction of your mouth, the tightness of your throat, the way you tug on his hair when he's between your legs, forcing his head down- completely ignorant to you blocking both of his airways. He realized that he didn't actually mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Its starts off as with an even pace, slow and deep thrusts- the longer you go for for quicker his hips snap, the harder the headboard hits the wall and the harder he fucks. Your both always a little out of breath by the end of it.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Doesn't care for it. What's the point in having sex while feeling rushed? He likes to take his time, however how long or short he wants it to be. And the thought of where-ever he had to go to would ruin his sexual tuition, anyway. Chishiya would rather wait it out.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Depends. Chishiya wound't say he's vanilla, or that he's a sex freak- so the thought of experimenting could go either way. If he thinks there is just a fragment of himself that would enjoy if he might say yes, more out of regard to you having the gut to ask him in the first place. If he doesn't like the idea, he'll simply shut you down.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Three max. Although he does prefer letting foreplay escalate you to finishing climax before you actually start to have sex- curling his fingers inside you, claiming he's "Just getting you started.", letting his tongue lap at you like a starved man- so a lot of the time, you end up more spent than him.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Why would you need toys? Chishiya's has two hands and a tongue for a reason. However if you ever brought him a toy, asking if he could use it on you, he won't reject you- but maybe he would make you use it on yourself while he watched, instructing you what too do, purely for his own enjoyment.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Chishiya likes to get to the point and he wouldn't say he teases you, he just finds amusement in watching you arch in pleasure for as long as possible. Although if you ever heard him say that you would call him a fucking liar to his face.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
As for grunts and moans, more rare than you would like- you would try little tricks to see what would make him react the most- and ever time he did, you felt like you got a little reward. He was decently vocal, talking more than actually make sounds- but you didn't miss when a sharp intake of breath would cause him to pause, or when his words would deepen to low grumbles. Chishiya was vulgar with his words, much to your surprise. Outwardly asking if you liked what he was doing, making you explain how wet the thought of his dick was making you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Chishiya liked hearing how your voice would rattle when he grope you a certain way, liked hearing your airy call of his name and how you would repeat it over and over and over again in his ear. He liked forcing you to explain why you wanted him so bad while he refused to let you touch him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Six inches exactly, and two and a half inches wide. How the hell he was that wide was beyond you, and Chishiya knew what you were thinking the second your eye's widened. He just looked at you with a small smirk and raised eyebrows, daring you to say something. Pale, like the rest of his, but with an aggravated bright pink tip. Stick straight and small veins runing to his shaft.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He could go without sex for the rest of his life if you made it a challenge. But you didn't, and it wasn't- so he enjoyed the company when he wanted too.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If he's tired he'll lay there, eyes closed and completely limp- even though his brain was still wide awake. It always took him a while to actually fall asleep, but depending on how rough you fucked the physical toll with lull him to sleep just a few minutes earlier.
Tongue Piercing
Niragi Suguru/Reader
tags: minors dni, cunnilingus (fem receiving), smut, dirty talk, face riding, perv! niragi, cum drinking, drabble
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Your little squeaks of pleasure are muffled by your hand, eyes shut tightly as that damned piercing drags over your swollen bud. Strong hands hold your thighs open, a dark head of hair nestled between them, lapping like a man starved. Your back is pressed against the bed, with Niragi knelt next to it, your knees hooked over his shoulders as he hums softly, the noise vibrating straight through you.
A needy moan leaves you, and he can’t help the way his lips quirk up. “God, baby. You’re so sexy.” Niragi sighs, his breath fanning over your wet pussy. “Let me hear you, don’t be shy.” He croons, sipping at your hole as if he was tasting wine. “So fucking sweet,” Niragi exhales, almost dreamily.
You squeal as his tongue slides inside, curling up and licking at your velvety walls. His long tongue teases you for a second, his piercing cold compared to his organ. Slowly, he drags out of you, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. “Up.” He urges, moving up onto the bed with you, grabbing your hips.
Lying back, he brings you up to sit on his face, enjoying the way your clit nudges his nose as your hips desperately squirm. His tongue slides through your folds, flat against your sex as you ride his face, little noises leaving you as he services you. Niragi loved it, the way you shift and whine, as well as the way he can put his tongue to use. The man under you can’t help but groan as you cum, slurping your juices up hungrily.
You pant, sucking in shaky breaths, shivering as his hands hold your hips down on his face. “Suguru!” You gasp, whimpering as he teases your clit with his tongue piercing, hips bucking. “Stay still,” he murmurs, muffled by your pussy, “not done yet.” Niragi adds, continuing his motions. Your pussy was divine, he could do this forever, until you’re shaking and whimpering out of overstimulation. And, well… he had you here now. Why stop?
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This fanfiction was written by VanillaLoafCake, all rights reserved. I do not consent to people reuploading my fics, feeding my work to ai, or stealing my work. If you wish to translate my work, please give credits, but getting in contact is not necessary so long as I am tagged appropriately. Thank you.
authors note: first post, just a quick drabble to get something out whilst i have works in progress. my lungs and chest feel funny, but the grind doesn’t stop. more will be posted soon, hopefully, if i don’t get sick. -vlc 🧡
𐙚 :: thinking about niragi again,,
!! NSFW below the cut !!
₊˚♱ thinking about the way he'd fuck my face till my throats so bruised i can barely talk. the way he'd pull my hair while shoving my head down until my nose met his pelvis. the way he'd stop just for a second before shooting his seed down my throat, moaning as i swallow every last drop of the hot white fluid.
₊˚♱ thinking about how he'd swear he just wants to 'help you' in the shower, but it quickly turns into being pinned against the wall as he nails you from behind. hot steam surrounding you as his fingers find your clit, rubbing the little bud soooo fucking smoothly, contrasting the hard, rough sensations caused by his cock.
₊˚♱ thinking about how he'd have a thousand different ways to punish you. ranging from overstimulating you till you cry — to not allowing you to touch him. some nights, you'd see the sun come up before he was done with you. other nights, he'd make you get yourself off while he watches, then laugh when you weren't able to. 'awh baby really needs me? can't get off without my cock anymore huh? well, too fucking bad'
₊˚♱ the way he'd give you your own hand gun to protect yourself, even though there's no chance of anyone ever fucking with you. everyone knows who you're with, as if they'd try anything, but he insists you need it.
₊˚♱ the way he'd come to you after shooting someone. angry reasoning turns into him crying in your arms from his ptsd, expressing how people just make him so angry until he snaps, even if he doesn't mean to. he doesn't want to face the consequences of things he can't control, so he cries with you, the only person who doesn't make him feel less than.
₊˚♱ thinking about how unintentionally possessive he gets after those moments. how after you comfort him, he will not let you go. to him its just any other night, but you've picked up on his habits over time. his heart is scared to lose you, so after being vulnerable he'll hold you all night. not wanting to let you go in fear you'll leave.
₊˚♱ thinking about how soft he could be with you :( yes he is a sadistic maniac who could kill you at any moment, but he doesn't, and he never would. you're his only place he can be vulnerable, he'd never let anyone else see that.
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dk how I switched from hella sexual to lowk sad but I jus have so many thoughts abt this man so makes sense 🤧🤧 ALSO the way i wrote the first one in first person but then the rest in second lmfao ignore it. anyways this was like an organised jjinx thoughts ig? not rlly headcanons but ykyk, hope u like xx
Niragi | Lies
Warnings: Niragi x fem!reader, smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, bullying, violence, Niragi and the reader are recorded without their consent, manipulation, obsession, cursing. The reader may be a little naive.
Note: English is not my first language so feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes.
It was halfway through the school year when Niragi arrived. The classroom door creaked open, and every head in the room snapped toward him.
The new kid. He was lanky, his uniform was pristine, his hair was a bit of a mess, and his glasses kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. He had the kind of shyness that was impossible to hide: hunched shoulders, downcast eyes, and a silence that seemed to weigh heavy on his tongue.
The teacher motioned for him to come in.
“Find an empty seat” she said, barely looking up.
Everyone already had their spot... cliques were formed, and the laughter was already reserved for the same familiar faces. The only empty desk was next to yours.
Niragi walked over slowly, eyes glued to the floor, and dropped his bag before sinking into the chair. Even without looking at him, you could feel his nerves. It was that kind of electric tension—the energy of someone who doesn't know what to do with their hands.
“Hey” you whispered, barely turning your head toward him. It took him a second to respond.
“H-hi” he stammered. You smiled for no particular reason.
For the rest of the period, he hardly moved, but you caught him stealing glances at you every now and then. They were quick, almost imperceptible flickers, but enough to send a slight shiver down your spine.
There was something about the way he looked at you. It wasn't bold or cocky... it was the look of someone who wasnt used to being seen, someone who didn't know how to react when they got caught looking back.
When the bell rang, you started packing up.
“You are new here, right?” you asked, pretending to be busy with the papers on your desk. He nodded.
“Yeah. I just transferred.”
“Well, if you need help with the schoolwork, I can walk you through it” you offered, your voice softening instinctively.
Niragi looked up for the first time. There was a mix of gratitude and surprise in his dark eyes.
“Thanks...” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
It was in that moment, without even realizing it, that you started finding your way into his world. And though you didn't know it yet, that’s exactly how he would remember you: head tilted, that confident smile, and the sound of your voice cutting through the classroom noise.
(...)
You had spent weeks trying to convince Niragi to join your group for lunch. Every day you found a new excuse: he needed to socialize more, your friends didn’t bite, it was good to break the routine.
He finally gave in, though he did it with the quiet resignation of someone who knew he wouldn't know what to say.
The cafeteria was packed... laughter, overlapping conversations and the metallic clatter of trays. You led the way, confident, while he followed behind with stiff shoulders and measured steps. When you reached the table, your friends were already there: Hitami in the center with his usual smug grin, and the others, who gave you a distracted wave.
“Guys, this is Niragi” you announced, giving the new guy a gentle nudge forward.
A few nodded with a simple “hey,” while others just kept eating. But Hitami held his gaze just a second too long, the kind of look that felt heavy.
“So, you are the new kid” he said, his tone sounding friendly but not quite hitting the mark. Niragi looked down.
“Yeah” he managed, sitting down beside you.
You tried to keep the conversation light... homework, teachers, anything to fill the silence. But every word Niragi spoke seemed to pass through an invisible filter. Hitami would interrupt, correct him, or simply smile with that air of superiority he used to size people up.
“So where are you from?” he finally asked.
“Another school” Niragi replied.
“Oh? Why the transfer?” Hitami didn't bother hiding his inquisitive tone.
“Issues” was all Niragi said.
Silence fell for a few beats. You tried to break it with a joke, but Niragi’s body language was clear: he wanted out. His foot moved restlessly under the table, his back as rigid as a board.
You leaned in toward him.
“Take it easy” you murmured, low enough that only he could hear. “Hitami can be a jerk, but he doesn't mean anything by it.”
“Doesn’t feel that way” Niragi whispered without looking at you. You placed a hand on his arm.
“Trust me. He won’t hurt you.”
That promise, which sounded so innocent coming from you, carried a different weight in his ears. Lunch ended quickly. Your friends said their goodbyes one by one, and Hitami waited for you by the door, as he always did.
“I’m coming” you said, grabbing your bag without a second thought.
When you turned back, Niragi was still sitting there, watching you. There was a different shadow in his eyes now—a mix of disappointment and loneliness you hadn't seen before. You smiled at him, trying to soften the goodbye.
“See you tomorrow, okay?”
He gave a slight nod, but his gaze remained fixed on you as you walked out of the cafeteria with Hitami.
And for the first time, you felt something strange: the sense that your friendship with Niragi wasnt just sweet and innocent, but something that was starting to ache in the silence.
(...)
It started without you even noticing. At first, it was just that warm hum through your body when Niragi looked at you longer than usual. A curiosity that turned into a craving, a desire that began to burn inside you every time he spoke in a low voice or leaned over your shoulder to read your notes.
It was impossible not to notice how attractive he was, even if he didn't know it himself. There was something in his eyes, a cocktail of insecurity and repressed fire, that left you breathless. You found yourself imagining things you shouldnt: how he’d look with his shirt unbuttoned, what would happen if he ever dared to touch you on purpose. But you always ended up laughing at yourself, embarrassed by your own thoughts.
You knew exactly how fragile his world was. You were the closest thing to a constant light in his life, his only healthy connection in the midst of the school's noise and bullying. You didn't want to ruin that. You didn't want to be just another person who confused or hurt him. So, you chose to bury those fantasies under polite smiles and measured silences.
Even so, your playful nature with others didn't change. The suggestive jokes, the teasing comments... all the things you did without thinking, things you never, ever directed at him. Maybe because you were too afraid to cross that line.
But you were naive. You never noticed how much it affected him. Every laugh you shared with someone else, every knowing look or casual touch, stung him like an invisible thorn. You’d see him go quiet, his jaw tightening, his eyes darting away with a shadow that was hard to read. You thought it was just shyness. You thought he just needed time.
You didnt realize that your flirting wasn't just making Hitami uncomfortable... it was starting to wake up something dark inside Niragi. Something even he didn't quite understand yet.
(...)
The sun was already dipping below the horizon when you finally found him. The court was empty, bathed in the orange glow of late afternoon, and he was the only one in the bleachers: hunched over, knuckles white as he gripped the hem of his jacket, eyes stinging with tears he was desperately trying to hide.
“Niragi…” you murmured, stepping toward him carefully, as if you were afraid of breaking something fragile.
He barely turned, and when he saw it was you, he tried to wipe his face with his sleeve. But his voice cracked the moment he tried to speak.
“It’s nothing” he whispered. “Just… you know how they are.”
You didnt need to ask. You’d seen it happen. The snickering, the shoving, the comments about him still being a virgin as if it were some kind of character flaw. The way he had just lowered his head and walked away.
You sat down beside him, keeping your voice steady and calm.
“You shouldn’t let that stuff get to you. There’s no point in worrying about it.”
The second the words left your mouth, you saw him stiffen. He looked down again, and something in your chest tightened. You realized too late that what seemed like a trivial joke to you was an open wound for him. It wasnt just embarrassment. He felt lesser. He felt different.
You bit your lip and chose to drop it, not wanting to push. You just gave him a soft look and stood up.
“Come on, let’s go get some ice cream” you said, reaching out a hand.
Niragi hesitated for a second before taking it. His skin was cold and trembling. You led him toward the locker rooms, looking for a bit of privacy... maybe wanting to distract him before you both left for the day.
“Lets clean up those tears first” you whispered, pulling a handkerchief from your pocket.
He tried to pull away, looking ashamed, but you insisted. You brushed his cheek gently, and in that instant, the air changed. You were too close. You could feel his shaky breath, the way he looked at you like he didn't know whether to say thank you or run.
It was just a second. A single heartbeat. But it was enough for you to kiss him.
You didn’t know who leaned in first, only that your lips met with a sweetness that was clumsy and desperate. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, until you felt his hand trembling against your waist.
Heat flared between you, wrapping you both in something you couldn't name. Your mind was screaming at you to stop, but your body moved on its own. You pushed him back gently until he was sitting on the bench and knelt before him, locking eyes.
“Do you want me to stop?” your voice came out as a raspy whisper, barely audible.
Niragi shook his head before you could even finish the question. His breathing was fast and shallow, and for the first time, he didn’t look scared. He looked hungry.
As you watched him, a dangerous thought crossed your mind, as soft as a heartbeat: If being a virgin hurts him this much… maybe I can help him.
Not because I want to, you told yourself. But because Im his friend.
(...)
The sun was almost gone behind the large windows when Hitami’s group started whispering and laughing. They hadn't seen Niragi since recess, and one of them got the bright idea to hunt him down just to keep the "fun" going at his expense.
“Bet he’s hiding in the locker room” one of them cackled.
Hitami didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened. He walked with the rest of them toward the boys locker room, their voices echoing like an annoying choir. As they got closer, they heard a dull thud from the other side: footsteps, a soft moan, the rhythmic creak of a bench.
“What the hell…?” someone whispered.
Curiosity won out over respect. One of them pulled out a phone and peeked the camera through the gap in the door. He only recorded for a few seconds. What he caught was enough to strike the whole group silent: Niragi was in there and he wasnt alone.
His back was arched slightly forward, his hands trembling as they gripped the bench, and in front of him was a girl. Her face wasn't visible... just the slow movement of her head and arms, and the obvious tension of the moment.
“Is he… with someone?” one of them asked, unable to suppress an incredulous laugh.
“Cant see who it is” another replied, dropping his voice.
The video, which they’d already shared amongst themselves, was barely three seconds long, but it was more than enough fuel for the bullying to come. They backed away from the door, laughing and whispering, waiting in the hallway for "the freak" to come out.
Then came the screech of the door opening.
Niragi stepped out first, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, and his breathing still uneven.
Then, behind him… you.
The silence was deafening.
Hitami took a step forward, unable to believe his eyes. For a moment, he thought it was a hallucination... some absurd mistake. But reality hit him like a physical blow when your eyes met his.
You froze. So did he.
The laughter in the background felt miles away, drowned out by the ringing in Hitami’s ears. He felt a hollow pit in his chest, a burning sensation he couldn't identify as either jealousy or pure rage. He moved without thinking, grabbing your wrist and dragging you away, never looking back, ignoring the comments and the malicious cackling that followed.
When you were finally alone, he stopped abruptly and faced you. His breath was ragged, his eyes bloodshot with frustration.
“What the fuck were you doing with him?” he asked, his tone sounding more like a plea than an accusation.
You frowned, still trying to catch your breath.
“You don't get to talk to me like that” you said, trying to pull away, but his grip remained firm.
“He is using you” he insisted, his voice raw. “Cant you see that?”
“You don’t know what you are talking about” you snapped. Hitami rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.
“Look at this”
He turned the screen toward you. The video was short and blurry, but unmistakable. The movement, the moans, the breathing. Your lips parted in horror. The image stole the very air from your lungs.
“He got pissed at us and sent this” he lied smoothly, without a hint of hesitation. “He probably asked someone to record it. He wanted to brag. I can’t believe it was you.”
The tears welled up before you could stop them. Seeing you shake, Hitami stepped in and pulled you into a hug. His hand slid slowly up your back in a gesture meant to comfort, but there was something possessive about it... something triumphant.
“It’s okay” he whispered into your hair. “I will make sure that video disappears. I won’t let him humiliate you.”
And as you fell apart in his arms, suspecting nothing, he looked up.
There, at the far end of the hallway, stood Niragi. He was silent, his gaze fixed on the two of you, hands clenched into fists. His eyes weren't full of sadness anymore. It was fury. Pure, cold fury.
The next morning, the classroom felt different. Not because anything had actually changed, but because you weren't the same.
You avoided looking toward the back where Niragi always sat. Instead, you headed straight for the front, to the empty seat next to Hitami. He gave you a small smile, as if no words were needed. His presence felt comforting... almost safe.
You didn't want to think. You didn't want to remember the video or the way your body had trembled when you saw it. So you told yourself over and over that Hitami was right. That Niragi had crossed an unforgivable line. That the whole thing had been a setup... a way to show off, to mock you, to exploit your trust.
Believing the lie was easier than facing the possibility that you were wrong.
During the first hour, you felt his eyes burned into you. Niragi didnt say a word, but you could feel his confusion and his fear. Every time he tried to get near you, you looked down or turned toward Hitami. You pretended not to hear him; you pretended he wasn't there.
“Leave it Y/N” Hitami said quietly when Niragi made one last attempt to talk to you. “He is not worth your time.”
You believed him. You even smiled at him, grateful. After all, he had "saved" you from something much worse.
The days crawled by. Niragi stopped trying. He became a ghost in the classroom... present, but distant. The teachers noticed his lack of focus, his absences, the way he seemed to vanish into the hallways. You ignored it. You convinced yourself this was how it had to be. That cutting him off completely was the only sane choice.
But on the third day, when his seat remained empty, a flicker of unease crossed your chest. You didn't say anything, and you didn't ask.
And when he finally returned a week later, looking lost with bloodshot eyes, you simply looked the other way.
You never found out what happened to him during those days. And even though a part of you wanted to reach out... to offer a word, an explanation or something but you didn't.
Because you had already decided to believe the story that suited you best: that Hitami was the loyal friend protecting you, and Niragi… was just the boy who dared to break your trust.
(...)
Years passed. High school became a memory, and with it, the old versions of both Niragi and yourself.
It was just another Friday, and you were getting ready to head out with your friends from university. You checked yourself in the mirror while adjusting your dress, obsessing over every detail: the hair, the makeup, the way your heels elongated your legs. You could feel your pulse quickening... not just from the excitement of the night, but from a gut feeling you couldn't quite put a name to.
Your phone buzzed on the table. Hitami. Another invite, and once again, you turned him down. You knew it would be awkward, though you couldnt help a fleeting smile at his persistence... it was so typical of him. You put your phone away and took a deep breath, ready to lose yourself in the music and the crowd.
When you stepped out of the apartment, the city greeted you with its usual roar... lights and a scent that mixed street food, booze, and hot asphalt. You walked toward the bar, every step in sync with the energy vibrating under your skin.
Your friends were already there when you arrived, laughing and drinking. You joined them, letting the music wash over you, the heavy bass setting the rhythm of your own heartbeat. As the night wore on, you found yourself alone on the dance floor, caught up in the motion of strangers and the heat of the club... feeling completely alive and safe from the world.
That’s when you felt it before you even saw him. A shadow moving with total confidence, an undeniable presence that seemed to cut through the air around you. When you looked up, your heart skipped a beat.
Niragi.
He wasn't the shy boy from school anymore. It was him, but transformed. Dressed in black from head to toe, long hair tied back in a half-pony, and piercings glinting on his face. He commanded both respect and desire, every feature seemed designed to be noticed, making it impossible to look away.
Your breath hitched and, without thinking, you reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders, feeling his heat through the fabric of his shirt. You swayed to the rhythm, but every slight brush of skin, every shiver, reminded you that this was more than just a dance.
"Recognize me, princess?" his voice was raspy and deep, so close it made your skin crawl with goosebumps as his hands gripped your waist firmly.
You gave a tiny nod, unable to tear your eyes away. He smirked, tilting his head with that touch of malice you had never forgotten.
"Your guard dog isn't with you tonight?"
You shook your head, confused, and rested your cheek against his chest. His heart was thumping hard, like a drum in your ear. Every beat felt like a warning of something inevitable that the music couldn't drown out.
You danced in silence for a few minutes... slow, synchronized movements, a language all your own. Finally, Niragi took your wrist and led you to a secluded corner where the heat of the crowd couldn't reach you. There, his lips found yours. This wasn't the clumsy, nervous boy from high school; this was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, claiming with a single kiss everything he’d been holding back for years.
The heat became unbearable, and your breathing quickened. A spark of boldness flared up. You needed to make this moment last, to explore it until it was yours.
"Do you want to come back to my place? It's not far..."
"Yes" he answered instantly, his voice thick with promises and pent-up desire.
He followed you to your friends' table to grab your things, moving carefully, as if any sudden motion might break the electricity huming between you. You walked to the exit with Niragi by your side, his hand brushing yours... every contact deliberate and silent.
You didn't talk much, but you didnt have to. Every look and every touch said what words couldn't: the unfinished business from years ago was finally resuming, and neither of you was going to stop it.
(...)
The moment you reached your apartment, the waiting ended. Niragi pushed you gently against the hallway wall, his hands tearing the dress from your body with a suppressed hunger, leaving your skin exposed to his devouring gaze.
The heat of his body collided with your ragged breathing, every slide of his fingers across your skin sent a chill up your spine. You didn't hold back either: your hands found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with purpose, baring his firm torso as his muscles tensed under your touch.
You stared at him intensely, lips parted and damp, and he responded with a low growl that vibrated deep in your chest. With every layer of clothing that vanished, the sexual tension surged like a wildfire.
Without a word, you led him to the bedroom. Every step was a dance of brushing bodies and exploring hands. When he dropped you onto the bed, he climbed over you, pinning you with his weight as his lips trailed down your neck, your shoulders, your chest... a path of both adoration and dominance that left you breathless.
Your fingers slid down to his length, the heat of his skin contrasting with your cool hand. His reaction was immediate: a deep groan that vibrated through your entire body. Niragi wasted no time reciprocating, his fingers finding your slick heat with slow, deliberate movements, studying every contraction and every shiver you gave him. Your name escaped your lips in gasps, and he seemed to drink in every sound.
"You like that, princess?" he whispered, his fingers working inside you while he locked his eyes onto yours. His voice was a thread of pure desire.
You pleasured each other, every movement in sync with the other's breath, every moan ratcheting up the voltage between you. The first climax hit like a shared whirlwind, leaving you both shaking and clinging to one another. But the tension didn't fade, it only sharpened into a more ravenous urgency.
You sat up with a glint in your eyes and stripped Niragi of his damp boxers. You sat in his lap, letting yourself rub against him, and he responded by planting his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you slowly down onto him. Every inch was a calculated slide that made you moan, arching your back and digging your nails into his shoulders.
"What would that idiot Hitami say if he saw his little girlfriend like this?" he whispered maliciously, staring you down.
"No..." you started, interrupted by a gasp as you felt yourself slide home, "we were never... together" you panted, while he smirked with a mix of venom and lust.
"He didn't say the same while he was kicking my ass" he countered, driving your hips into a more determined rhythm. "You little bitch... that day you only used me to get him jealous, huh?"
Your mind was clouded with pleasure, but even through the haze, his words cut through.
Hitami and you? A beating? You using him?
You could only shake your head, which seemed to infuriate him. With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto the bed and loomed over you, preparing to take you completely.
"Lets give the idiot something to really be mad about" he hissed, positioning himself.
The pace was immediate. Your sensitive body opened up to him like never before. Every thrust was deep and measured, drawing moans that filled the room. Niragi held your legs, pinning you with precision, his gasps mingling with yours in a perfect, frantic rhythm.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails marking his skin as you tightened around him, seeking more, wanting to stretch out the feeling of possession and ecstasy.
"Niragi..." you whispered, breathless.
"What, princess?"
"I can't... I’m close" you gasped.
A second climax sent you both over the edge together, bodies convulsing in unison, sweat and breath mingling. Exhausted, but with desire still simmering under the surface, you collapsed onto the bed, limbs tangled, your heartbeats echoing the intensity of what you’d just shared.
The room was heavy with the scent of sex and the sound of your fading gasps.
"What beating were you talking about?" you finally managed to ask, trying to steady your voice. You didn't want to relive the video drama, but you couldn't let what he said slide.
"Let's not go there," he said dryly, staring at the ceiling.
"You're the one who brought it up," you countered, rolling onto your side to look at him. He remained focused on an invisible point above.
"A few days after your 'boyfriend' caught us, he and his friends jumped me. I ended up in the hospital" he said with a sigh. Suddenly, you remembered the week he’d been absent from school. "Thats when I realized girls like you just use people."
You froze. What version of the story was he living in?
"I told you, Hitami isn't my boyfriend. We’re just friends," you clarified, but he rolled his eyes. "And I never used you. If anything, you used me... you recorded us just to prove you weren't a virgin anymore."
"I never recorded a damn thing. I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"Niragi... I saw the video you sent to Hitami" you argued, a knot forming in your chest. "You were mad because they called you a virgin and you did it to..." You sighed, waiting for him to break, but he just kept staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. "I know I wasn't forced, we both wanted it, but you didnt have to have someone film us. If that video had gotten out... it would have ruined my life."
"I didn't film anything, and I didnt ask anyone else to... Who would I even ask? You were the only person I talked t" he said, and then his eyes snapped toward you as something clicked. "It was that piece of shit Hitami..."
"What?" Your heart hammered against your ribs.
"He filmed us" he said, rubbing his face in a fit of rage. "Then he told you I sent it, and he told me you only used me to make him jealous."
The air left the room. Everything snapped into place: the weeks Niragi vanished, your anger, the confusion. Could Hitami really have done that?
"Idiot..." Niragi whispered. "All that effort and you ended up fucking with me anyway."
He let out a harsh and dark laugh, but you couldn't find the joke. Your eyes filled with tears as a crushing weight settled on your chest.
"Relax..." Niragi muttered, rolling his eyes. "Your 'boyfriend' doesn't have to find out about this."
"I told you, he is not my boyfriend!" you snapped, your face flushed with pain. "He is my friend... I thought of him as a brother, but he lied to me." The last word broke into a sob. "I cant believe it... I thought he was protecting me. All this time, he was the one screwing us over."
Niragi clicked his tongue, tilting his head with annoyance, but also with that protective spark he’d always had.
"Stop crying over that loser, princess. He doesnt deserve a single one of your damn tears."
"He lied to me..." you whispered, turning your face into the pillow.
He leaned over, gripped your chin firmly, and forced you to look at him. His eyes were burning, a mix of rage and hunger and your body responded before your mind could catch up.
"Then look at me. I'm the one here. I didn't leave."
The lump in your throat tightened, but his proximity was suffocating in a way that blurred the line between pain and desire.
"I don't want to feel used anymore, Niragi..." you whispered, voice trembling.
He gave a half-smirk, that trademark malice failing to hide his own desperation.
"Well, this time, Im not giving you a single second to think about it."
Before you could say another word, he kissed you violently, silencing your sobs with the urgency of his mouth. His hands roamed your body with desperate intent, and when you felt him hard against your leg again, you knew the conversation was over. The pain was still there, yes, but your body had already made its choice: you wanted him, all over again.
(...)
The sun was high in the sky by the time you opened your eyes. The room smelled of sex and sweat, and your muscles were still humming from last night’s marathon. Niragi was beside you, hair a mess, one arm draped over your waist. He was dead to the world, but when you shifted, he groaned and cracked one eye open.
"Stay still, princess..." he muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep.
"Wake up" you answered with a tired smile, letting the sheet slip from your shoulders. "You fucked me so well last night you earned yourself a home-cooked lunch."
That woke him right up. He propped himself up on an elbow, arching a brow with that smirk... that defiant, cocky look that always drove you crazy.
"A reward? I didnt know you were so generous."
"Don't get used to it" you shot back, hopping out of bed and pulling an oversized tee from your closet.
In the kitchen, you moved back and forth gathering ingredients while Niragi made himself comfortable at the table, watching you shamelessly. Every move you made seemed to bait him: a cheeky comment, a huff, a laugh that escaped your lips.
You cooked something simple, but the aroma mingled with the warmth of his presence. When you finally served the food, sitting down together felt strangely natural, almost domestic, even though neither of you had ever shared anything like this before.
"Hey... you are not a bad cook for a crybaby princess" Niragi teased, taking a bite with that signature crooked grin.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile. "Shut up and eat."
Just as you were about to say something else, the doorbell rang. You stood up, confused, but before you could even ask who it was, the door swung open. Hitami walked in with a bag in his hand, wearing his usual effortless, carefree smile.
"Hey! I brought your favorite ramen so we could..." he stopped dead. His eyes landed on Niragi sitting across from you, using your chopsticks and eating off your plate.
The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife. Minutes felt like hours as the air between the three of you charged with tension. Niragi smirked, tilting his head with that poisonous expression that was equal parts amusement and provocation.
"Well, well... look who showed up. The high school hero."
Hitami stood frozen for a second, his jaw tightening as he tried to mask his shock.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and vibrating with tension.
Niragi set his chopsticks down slowly, looking like he was savoring every single second of the moment.
"Having breakfast. Well... lunch. We finished the breakfast part a while ago."
The double entendre hit the room like a physical blow. Your heart raced; the kitchen felt like it was closing in. Hitami looked at you, the betrayal written all over his face as he searched for answers, but your eyes met Niragi's and you realized he had been waiting for this scene his entire life.
"And you?" Hitami spat, turning his fury on you. "You want to explain this?"
Niragi leaned toward you playfully, as if marking his territory.
"Explain what?" he replied with a smile that was half-threat, half-game. "I'm just enjoying lunch. You want a bite, hero?"
Hitami slammed the bag of ramen onto the counter, the wood rattling from the force. His friendly mask shattered instantly, replaced by pure rage, burning eyes, and a locked jaw.
"Get up, you bastard" he spat at his rival, every word dripping with venom.
Niragi leaned back in his chair, looking completely relaxed, almost basking in the heat of the moment. His eyes glinted with malice.
"What's the matter, Hitami?" he drawled, slow and calculating. "Dont like seeing your 'little sister' sharing a table with me?"
Hitami's fist slammed into the table.
"Dont you dare talk about her like that!" he growled. "After what you did to her, how the hell do you have the nerve to show your face in her life again?"
Niragi stood up slowly, looking Hitami up and down with a dark, incredulous laugh.
"What I did to her?" he laughed. "Man, you really do have a talent for fairy tales."
Hitami stepped forward, invading his space, and pointed a finger at you in a rage.
"Don't let him play you!" he spat. "Did you already forget this psycho recorded you just to brag that he wasnt a virgin? He used you and threw you away like trash!"
The air turned heavy. Niragi’s jaw set, holding himself back from exploding, while a tense silence hung over the kitchen. Before he could speak, you were the one who cut through the tension.
"Enough, Hitami" you said, standing up firmly.
They both snapped their heads toward you. Your voice trembled slightly, but your eyes were steel.
"I know the truth. You were the one who recorded us. You were the one who showed me that video and told me Niragi sent it. And you were the one who told him I was just using him to make you jealous."
Hitami went pale, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words.
"I... I was just trying to protect you" he finally stammered. "He was going to ruin you, you had to see what he really was..."
Niragi scoffed, taking a step forward to face him down.
"Protect her? You filmed her without her consent and then had your goons jump me. That's not protecting anyone... thats being a coward."
Hitami shoved him, but Niragi reacted instantly, landing a punch square in his face. The sound of the impact echoed through the kitchen, making you flinch as your heart hammered in your ears.
Your friend stumbled back but lunged at Niragi with pure desperation. The fight was chaos: plates smashing, the table sliding across the floor, their shouts cutting through the air. They were like two bulls unleashing years of built-up hate, every blow an echo of repressed resentment.
"Stop it! Enough!" you screamed, trying to get between them, but they weren't listening.
Niragi, mouth bleeding, grabbed Hitami by the collar and slammed him against the wall, eyes blazing with fury.
"Dont you ever touch her again, you hear me?" he hissed. "Not one goddamn time."
Hitami looked at you, panting and full of hate, but he didn't say a word. Your voice finally broke the spell.
"Get out, Hitami. Don't ever come near me again."
His jaw tightened in disbelief, but seeing the look on your face, he realized the door was closed for good. He grabbed the bag of ramen and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening. Niragi wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and looked at you. His eyes were still burning with rage, but now they were focused entirely on you.
"See?" he panted. "I told you that prick wasnt worth it."
Despite the tension still vibrating in the air, you couldn't stop your body from reacting to the intensity of his gaze... to the raw violence he'd used to protect you. Your heart ached, but at the same time, it was pounding. Fear and desire blurred together, a stark reminder that Niragi had always been both your torment and your sanctuary.
(...)
Silence had settled over your apartment once again, heavy and almost palpable. The only sound left was the sweep of a cloth over the wooden table, slowly erasing the traces of the previous night’s chaos.
Shards of broken dishes were piled in a trash bag, a faint smear of dried blood shimmered on the floor, and your body still ached in every place Niragi had touched you... a lingering reminder of every shiver, every movement, and every moan.
Every corner of the room held a trace of him: his gravelly voice, his simmering rage, the heat that seemed to have seeped into the very walls. Everything in the apartment screamed his presence, even now that he was gone.
As you finished cleaning, your phone vibrated on the counter. Your hands shook slightly as you picked it up. It was him.
Niragi: How are you?
You stared at the screen for a few seconds, your chest tightening with a strange mix of surprise and tenderness. Him, asking how you were, as if nothing had changed... as if the distance and the mistakes didn't even count. You let out a sigh and a small smile, leaning back against the counter as you typed:
You: A little tired, but im okay. Just finished cleaning up the mess you left behind.
You waited. Your heart beat at its own frantic pace while the screen showed the "typing..." indicator.
Niragi: I’m coming over. I want to see you.
You bit your lip, trying to steady a tremor that wasnt just from exhaustion. A part of you wanted to say no... to take a breath and keep your distance. But another part, a stronger and more dangerous one that had been silent for years, wanted to see him again. You wanted him close, wanted that intensity to override every bit of logic you had left.
You: I will meet you at noon. Shibuya Crossing.
Time stretched out as if the world were holding its breath. Several minutes passed in silence until, finally, a last message arrived:
Niragi: I'll be there.
You set the phone aside, a cocktail of nerves and anticipation swirling inside you. You couldnt explain it, but something deep down was stirring. This wasn't just any meeting; there was something in the air that made you shudder, as if the world were bracing itself—as if it were about to break.
You looked out the window. The sky was clear and bright, far too serene for a day that felt this heavy. A cold, strange sense of emptiness filtered through your chest, mingling with a tingle of expectation.
The clock struck 11:45 when you grabbed your things and headed out. Every step toward the street felt heavy, yet inevitable.
You didn't know that in just a few minutes, the world as you knew it would split in two.
You didn't know that this would be the last message you'd ever receive from him on this side, or that what was about to happen would change everything forever.
₊˚♱ 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐬 — Niragi Suguru about ʏᴏᴜ,, headcanon
• Niragi would never admit it, but he hates when someone else gets your attention. He gets jealous and possessive way too easily, even if it’s just you smiling at someone.
• He loves provoking you and pushing your buttons — sarcastic comments, arrogant smirks, or even pretending to play the villain just to see your reaction.
• But when you don’t flinch or give in to his intimidation, he’s secretly fascinated. You might be the only one he can’t completely dominate.
• He’s not about big, romantic gestures. His love language is more like protection and raw honesty.
• Instead of saying “Take care of yourself,” he’d scoff something like: “Don’t you dare die before me, got it?”
• He’s very tactile, but not in a soft way — he’ll grab your wrist to stop you from walking off, push you against a wall just to watch your expression… but he’ll also let his fingers linger when he thinks you won’t notice.
• At night, when no one’s around, he likes being next to you in silence. Those are the rare times he’s calm, almost vulnerable.
• He sometimes catches himself smiling while watching you sleep — and then shakes it off as if it never happened.
• If you touch him gently (stroking his hair or brushing his cheek), he’ll grumble that it’s “annoying”… but he’ll never actually stop you.
• If you’re hurt in a game, his whole demeanor shifts: the cocky smirk disappears, his eyes go cold, and he won’t stop until the threat is gone.
• He hates the word “love,” but if he ever says it to you, it’ll be in a moment where he’s certain he can’t afford to lose you.