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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

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Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotage you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) rec drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- BROMANCE hehe, spanking, emotional, a LOT of violence and blood, teasing, shower sex, size kink like a MF- a little bit of everything <3 WC- 7.2k

Will be eight parts- ties into my Mob Gojo story- you'll see him and the reader from there - but you can read it alone. Art in the banner is by Sketch B on X divider by @cafekitsune

Reblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<Part Six - Playlist - Masterlist - Part eight (final)>>>

Part Seven

There is blood everywhere, everywhere Sukuna can see, as his friends, shit some of them are truly damn near his family, fight right alongside the Zenin, but the only one Sukuna is focused on is the blond man with the brown, cold eyes, the one that hurt you. The one who didn’t see what he was lucky enough to have, and never fucking deserved, you.

Naoya licks blood off his lip and ducks and dodges, slamming Sukuna against a wall, he laughs at the attempt. “You’re trying, aren’t ya? Why don’t you give the fuck up before I end your life.” Sukuna pins him now instead, Toji is sending someone flying and crashing into a crate, as you all fight in the warehouse, each hit and throw scattering goods around.

There are pounds and pounds of counterfeit jewelry being crushed under dress shoes, crunching and glinting in the dark of the room, the sound of breaking bones and grunts of pain fill the air, each hit from Sukuna is fueled by pure rage and hate. The kind that only comes from someone who’s faced with the man who’s hurt the girl he loves so much.

The one that not just had you so down on yourself, abandoned you financially, talked down to you and blew off your kid, no that’s all shit he’d certainly beat the fuck out of him for. But wanting to murder him, slit his fucking throat, comes from even more than that, the threats to you.

He’d even been running it when they met just a few minutes before this.

‘Hah, how’s my little whore doing? Ya wanna know how many times I had her, in every way? Think it won’t be long till she’s back under me-’

That was when Sukuna decided negotiations certainly wouldn’t fucking be happening, when this little prick of a man wanted to run it, there was no more hiding behind the Zenin name for him. Choso, Suguru, Satoru and Toji were all there along with many other of the families, and not only were the Zenin outnumbered, they were completely unmatched.

Certainly they had some skill and they knew how to brawl, but overwhelmingly the five men here were much better at fighting, bigger, stronger… but also, more clinically insane, and coked out. Sukuna made sure everyone was well prepared with lines and lines before they decided to do this, bloodshot eyes and batshit crazy grins adorning everyone's faces.

Not Choso on the partaking of cocaine, of course, but Sukuna quickly realizes he and his family can hold their own and then some. But no one matched Sukuna on skill or size, though Satoru and Toji came close, no, he was simply made to fight, he thrilled in it, the adrenaline coursing through his fucking veins, his ruby eyes glinting, all while thinking of one singular thing.

You.

You’re his.

You’re his and will always be his.

Sukuna can’t have this looming over you, even if it starts a fucking war, his girl should be able to live her life without constant fear of the threat that Naoya constantly brings. As soon as Sukuna had thrown that first punch, chaos had ensued across every inch of this old, dark warehouse.

Naoya tries to fight back, but he’s no match for the beast that’s been unleashed in Ryomen Sukuna. The fear in his eyes is clear as he sees the unbridled fury in Sukuna’s gaze, perhaps he really thought he had a chance in hell, but with every hit and kick, Naoya slowly comes to the realization, that he’s fucked.

Sukuna’s knuckles are raw, but he feels nothing but satisfaction as he lands blow after blow on Naoya’s face, the crunch of his nose - breaking again, at least he has a good surgeon- is just music to his ears. He can almost hear her voice in his head, whispering that you’re okay now, that you’re safe, that this is probably enough, but there is a louder voice.

Kill him.

He can’t because of Touma, he knows, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to, hitting him and not relenting until the blond man is on his knees, begging for mercy. Sukuna’s chest heaves with b every breath, his heart racing with the adrenaline of the fight, his muscles screaming for a pause, but he shoves it all back, kicking Naoya to the floor and straddling him then, yanking him by his collar.

“Any last words, mother fucker?” He says with a grin, teeth just coated in blood, knife glinting when he pulls out the butterfly, silvery blade, holding the cold metal to his throat.

“Fuck, stop, stop, shit.” He grabs Sukuna’s wrist, sputtering, Satoru’s insane peal of laughter echoes, as he kicks away a mafia member, brushing off his suit. “You all are fucking insane, fuck.”

“Ya think so?” Toji asks, flipping a man right on his head, as they all look at Naoya, helpless.

“Fuck, we’ll stay out of your territory, okay?” Naoya’s desperate words just amuse Sukuna more, as he eases back the knife, holding up a hand.

“Stop.” He orders, and everyone does, much to the relief of every single Zenin member sighing, but Satoru may or may not have fake punched one to watch them jerk in fear, for the men to snicker at. Sukuna smirks at them, shaking his head, taking a breath and feeling just how sore he is, turning back to Naoya now, who exhales in relief, then Sukuna stands.

“I think we can come to an understanding, we-” Sukuna yanks him up by his collar, he’s literally dangling in the air when Sukuna plops him right on one of the crates. “Shit!”

With a smirk, he pulls out a phone from his pocket and turns his phone on, setting the screen on record. “You’re going to apologize to her.”

“The fuck I am, I already said I’d leave your territory and her the fuck alone.” Sukuna punches him once more, the sickening crack of his fist connecting echoing through the now quiet room. “Shit…”

“Say it loud, say it clear, or I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat so you can never speak your bullshit again.” Naoya’s eyes widen in horror, but he knows better than to argue at this point, it seems, the fear of dying a painful death is stronger than his pride.

“Fine, okay, shit…” He spits out blood, a tooth along with it, making joy fill Sukuna’s heart.

It’s the simple things, you know.

Through bruised and bloodied lips, he stammers out an apology, his voice shaking, so pathetic as Sukuna videos it, just for you, his girl. The warehouse goes quiet, the other fights ceased, as the Zenin mob watches their leader fall. The Gojo and Kamo mob members, battered and bruised, look at each other with big grins, still in high spirits in comparison.

Naoya finally slumps forward, while Sukuna pockets his phone, and the Zenin mob looks to their leader, the one who’s been beaten worse than any of them, bested by a man he thought he could fuck with. It’s not just about Naoya versus Sukuna, it’s more than that, Naoya has helped lead to the Zenin weakening, and proving the Kamo and Gojo are not to be trifled with.

Sukuna leans forward, as Naoya flinches, making Sukuna even more fucking excited, grin plastering his face. “You won’t come on our territory again.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t come near them, Touma or her, again.” Naoya laughs then, through his blood he’s damn near coughing up, so weak he looks like he’s about to collapse to the floor.

“Fuck it I don’t even want them.”

“Never fucking deserved her.” Sukuna whispers, still one fucking step away from ripping this mother fucker’s throat out, but he stops himself, standing up in a blood soaked dress shirt and slacks, sleeves rolled up to reveal much of his tattooed, bloody forearms and knuckles. “I think we’re done here.”

The warehouse door swings open as the five men and the rest of the members of the Kamo and Gojo mob walk out, letting in a rush of cool night air, Sukuna takes a breath of it, looking up at an oddly clear night for this city. He hears the distant sound of sirens, surely all the noise had made someone call.

“Time to get out before the feds come knocking.” He murmurs, as the Zenin mob retreats as well, helping their leader, who can’t even walk, but truly he’s lucky to be fucking alive.

“Coke?” Satoru offers, shaking a baggie, and Toji pulls out a bottle of liquor from the center of the limo, where the cooler sits.

“Drinks?” He suggests, but Suguru is already lighting up a blunt, smoke filling the limo of the five bruised and grinning men.

“Smoke?” He suggests, Sukuna grins then.

“All of ‘em, fuck it.”

*****

“You’re pacing baby.” Your friend murmurs, as she’s mixing up a drink in the eerily quiet club, the men have been gone for hours, and you can’t stand the sickness and anticipation in your tummy. “Sit down hunny, have a drink.”

“I can’t, I feel sick! Ugh. This is because of me.” You say in a panic, pacing back and forth more and more, she shakes her head, touching your shoulder gently. “It is all my fault, I made Sukuna have to do all this!”

“He loves you.” Her quiet words make your heart race, you hug her then, crying against her neck as she shushes you gently. “He adores you, you can just see it, I swear he does.”

“But… it’s like, what have I done to deserve him?”

“You’re pretty amazing too, you know.” You pull back with a tremulous smile, when suddenly the doors open, drawing your attention, and you exhale in relief before more panic sets in.

Sukuna is covered in blood when he walks back in the club, all of them are, your mind frantically tries to take it all in, the five bloodied men walking in, Satoru slides up to the bar, as his girl panics, cupping his face gently. Toji’s downing a shot and grimacing, Choso politely asks if there’s somewhere he can clean up, the girls start doting on him and Suguru.

But all you can see is him.

Sukuna.

The man you love, covered in more blood than all of them, his crimson eyes boring through you across the club, as you step forward, trembling as you get closer, terrified when you see his face is swelling and bruising under one of his eye, cuts all over his handsome face, you swear you can see shards of fucking glass glinting under the strobing lights.

“Sukuna…” He exhales, pulling you in close, as you look on with horror. “I need to get you cleaned up.”

“Yeah, yeah… worrying so much for me huh?” You glare, and he has the audacity to smirk. “I’m fine, brat.”

“You’re not fine. Now.” You drag him into the changing room by one of his crimson stained hands, sitting him right down in a seat, he sighs as he overtakes the tiny little thing with his huge body. “Sit there, let me clean you up.”

“Tch. It’s a scratch or two.”

“Yeah, okay monty python.”

He chuckles then, throwing his head back. “You watched that?”

“Sure I did. Sit still.” You’re dabbing at him now, with a cold wet washcloth, he sucks in a breath when you see it again, a little piece of glass. “How did you get glass in your skin, hmm?”

“Your ex may or may not have hit me with a bottle. Oooh, you look angry. So sexy, fuck.” You smack at his big tattooed hands as he tries to grip your ass.

“He what now!?” You turn and grab the first aid kit, finding antiseptic and tweezers, ready to kill Naoya if he even made it.

“He tried to fight but was failing like a little bitch. Ow!” He whines as you tweeze out the glass, quickly cleaning the wound that’s bleeding just a bit.

“Don’t be a baby.”

“Cruel, evil woman- ow!”

“Who knew big, bad Sukuna was a baby.”

“I swear to- ah!” You’re cleaning the last of the abrasions on his face up, dabbing at it with a little cotton ball. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I am not. You’re just cute.”

“Psh, I’ll beat your backside. You done?”

“Tell me how much of this is your blood.” He chuckles now, when you lead him over to the sink, rinsing his hands off, scrubbing up the antiseptic to show his knuckles were already scabbing over.

“Most of it is their blood, don’t worry so much.” You sigh, tummy feeling sick, when you’re running a towel along his hands, taking in the damage, only to be spun now, facing the mirror, when his strong, huge body takes you over. Your eyes meet his, seeing the hunger in them, as his still wet hands slip up your skirt, and he leans over you, pressing you into the counter.

“Kuna, you’re hurt. I have to keep checking you- ngh!” Sukuna’s slipped his hand between your thighs now, while his other slides up your breasts, earning your nipples pressing out, until he holds you under your chin.

“Playing nurse is hot and all, brat, but I need more than that.” His husky tone fucks with you, as his adrenaline races through his veins.

“Is he…” You gulp a bit, and Sukuna smirks now.

“Is he dead? Go on, ask it.” You take a shaky breath, whining out when he’s slipping his fingers over your cunt, which is soaking his fingers quickly, your head falling back against his hard chest. “Me killing him get you wet?”

“N-no, you get me wet, psycho man. Answer me.” You grip his wrist, trying to halt his movements so you can focus. “Did you kill him?”

Sukuna sighs, burying his face against your neck. “Wanna see him?”

“What?” Sukuna’s chuckling now, hot against the gentle curve of your neck, pulling you even closer against him.

“He’s not dead, only because… your kid. But he’s not doing so hot.” He leans back now, pulling out his phone, showing you Naoya right there on the screen, so bloody he’s damn near unrecognizable, pressing play on the video.

“Oh my god…” You feel sick as you watch it, Toji holding his head up, as Sukuna videos it.

Go on, say sorry, say you’re so sorry, and how you’re not even good enough to breathe her air.

Sukuna’s chuckle is dark and frightening, even after he watches the video back, Naoya angrily spits, you fear you see a tooth there.

‘I’m sorry, fuck, okay?’

��Finish the sentence.’

‘Not good enough to breathe your air… shit, I’m sorry, fuck…’

“Holy… you think…” You’re trembling in his hold, as the tears start pouring from your eyes. Sukuna pauses the video before all the carnage of just what happened to the Zenin during that fight shows. “You think it’s over?”

“Yes, baby.” Baby, he calls you baby and it ruins you. He’s cupping your face, turning you to him now, lifting you with ease and sitting you on the counter, your arms wrapping around his neck, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “He won’t touch you again.”

“Kuna…” You slam your lips on his, tears falling mixing with the coppery taste of the blood on his split lip, he pulls you against him, thighs wrapped around his hips, as you endlessly kiss, deeper and deeper. You pull back with a shaky breath, foreheads resting against each other. “But will it be a war?”

“No, they’re not coming for the Kamo and the Gojo family, we negotiated quite a deal with them all. It’s easy to negotiate when you’re losing teeth.” His devilish grin truly scares you.

“You’re psychotic you know.”

“You really haven’t seen shit yet baby.” Soon everyone is pouring in, cleaning up, Satoru is pouting like a baby, Toji is tense, the mood is overall good, but when you’re all drinking in the bar later, you and your friend helping pour them, it seems like they’re all just exhausted too.

“I lied about it being boring.” Satoru murmurs then, holding his girl’s hand carefully across the bar, she frowns in concern, leaning forward.

“It’s not boring?” She asks, and he shakes his head.

“It’s boring and pointless, and fucking stupid. But, for once, I think we did something.” She’s on his side soon, as they kiss, and the hunger they have makes the room heat up, as your eyes meet Sukuna’s knowingly.

“Satoru, why don’t you take her home.” Sukuna suggests. “Before you all just fuck right here.”

“Says you two. I don’t wanna know how many surfaces you’ve hit.” He says with a smirk, earning your gasp and Sukuna’s chuckle.

“We have not hit… many surfaces!?”

“Yet.” The room laughs quietly, and soon you’re all dispersing, you’re resting your head on Sukuna’s shoulder as he drives, it’s not too often that he’s not just taking his limo, but tonight he’s got a big hand on your thigh, pressing against you so warm, while you hug his arm to you. “You okay brat?”

“I can’t believe he was in so deep and… I didn’t know. That he was doing… fuck, trading human beings, and I was oblivious. I left because he kept cheating and was so mean to me, but… it’s hard to swallow.” Sukuna’s quiet as the two of you drive through the night in the dark, lights slowly flashing by and casting shadows across your face as he looks down for a moment.

“He probably just hit it well, it’s not like it’s your fault you didn’t know.”

“But Touma was in danger!”

“And he’s not, now he’s safe.” At the red light, glowing across his tanned skin, still covered in marks, he cups your face, tilting your chin up. “It’s not your fault.”

“How could I have been so stupid? How could I have ever seen anything but…” He cuts you off with a kiss, gentle and sweet, not like the fervent, passionate, or even brutal ones you’re used to. You exhale, leaning into the kiss.

“He had you hating yourself, I saw the end of that.” His heart breaks as he sees your lower lip tremble, his thumb brushing across it as the light turns green, he shifts his gears, driving once more, towards his penthouse - well, yours now too.

“You make me feel so loved now.” Your quiet voice makes him tense, clearing his throat just a bit.

“Ya trying to make me all sappy again, brat?” Normally you’d giggle, but you’re leaning closer, pressing a kiss on his neck.

“I love you.”

“Tch.” You just smile as you cling to him, dozing slightly, so happy he’s finally with you, so thrilled you may never have to worry about Naoya in your life again, all because of him, truly. “Gonna drool on me? If so, better be around my cock, or while I’m fucking you.”

“Kuna!” He’s smirking as you sleepily smack at his shoulder, pulling in to park now, brushing back your messy hair.

“Gonna help me clean up?” He asks softly, soon you all are sending Miwa home for the night, Touma is already fast asleep, and you’re in the shower with Sukun as he sits on the black granite bench, hands washing his smokey pink locks, while he rests his forehead on your chest, thighs spread.

“You have more bruises and cuts than you led me to believe.” You reprimand, he just looks up at you, tired eyes, his sooty lashes dripping with droplets of water, while his huge hands take over your body.

“I’ll always do anything for you.” You expected a joke or a cocky statement, not that, not the pure love and adoration in his voice, making you swallow while you rinse his hair off gently, placing the showerhead back up, entire body aching for him.

“I’ll always do anything for you.” Your murmur in return, straddling him now, knees on slippery marble, he clutches you by your ass as you do, eyes brilliant ruby as the hot spray pounds against both of your skin all over.

“The date. I still want the date.” He says softly, you giggle at it, tilting your head back when his hand drags ever so slowly across one of your breasts, squishing it in his hand as he sighs.

“I want a date too. But maybe you should heal up?”

“I feel great. Good enough for…” He’s dragging your cunt against his cock now, you cry out at the sensation, soaking wet and throbbing always for him, his piercing hits your clit as you grind, making you jerk, sensitive when he’s biting at your lips, his hands sinking into your waist. “Good enough to fuck you so good you drool, baby.”

“Fuck… please, Kuna…” He’s groaning now, reaching around and slipping two fingers deep in your soppy little hole, back arching for more as he does, scissoring them in and out so fast, you’re clinging to him tightly, tongues messy and dripping saliva as they collide.

“Want it?” He taunts, his thick, huge cock throbbing in need for you, but he loves when you’re so needy, desperate, he feels your gummy walls gripping his fingers, watches your eyes roll back, while the water falls in pretty rivulets on your pretty body, and he can’t wait to cum inside you, but not just yet. “You know what to do, brat.”

“Meanie.” You huff so cutely, making him smile, your nails are slick and pressing into his back, when he slips his fingers out now, cock teasing your entrance as he holds you up like it’s nothing.

“Gonna be bratty and not get it then.”

Your thighs shake as his tip enters, pressing inside past that tight ring of muscles, feeling your walls spasm, making him suck back a whine. “Please, Kuna, please let me feel you.”

“Fuck…” Your soft pleading ends him, how can he tease you when he’s dying to thrust inside of you, and that he does, dragging your cunt half way down his veiny length, you’re struggling to take him. “Loosen up, shit baby.”

“C-can’t, you’re t-too - ah!” You’re gasping when he stands, laying you right down on that bench, slipping out of you and shoving two fingers back in, curling them, while he kisses you again.

“Pathetic little pussy, how can she not take me by now?” He whispers, you want to scowl but fail, instead you’re drooling again while he’s curling those fingers inside.

“Too big.” He smirks at that, your eyes narrow for a moment before you’re cumming all down his thick digits, muscles loosening just enough, orgasm washing through your entire body in waves. “Kuna!”

“There she goes, she’s so needy, tsk.” Sukuna picks you up, throwing you like some little doll with his huge arms, until he’s got you against the wall, shoving his cock to the fucking hilt. Your cunt tries to accommodate, gushing down his length, as he moans, feeling his tip against your cervix. “Fuck, feel her. Milking me already?”

“Want all your cum in me, Kuna.” Your whine is shut off with a scream as he slams his curved cock right up inside you again, you’re trying to hold back the noise, but steadily failing.

“Shh, brat.” He’s smirking now, and covering your mouth with two fingers. “I’m so not getting cockblocked. Hush.”

“S-sorry, fuck- ah!” You’re burying your face against his neck, biting his slick hot skin, as his tattooed abdomen flexes, fucking you more firmly against the wall, and the two of you lose yourselves, more and more.

The water pounding, the steam floating, the fragrant smells of the body wash all mixing with the taste of each other, your eyes shut you can just feel him, all his power his strong, huge body holds, as he uses you. And you’re just clinging to him, whimpering, while his tip drags on your spot, while his piercing hits your cervix now, and you can barely hold back.

“Gonna fill you up s’good, brat, gonna fuckin pour me out, huh?” You’re nodding, struggling to focus, head falling back to look into those dilated eyes. “All mine, never going anywhere, are you?” You hear the desperation as he clings, as he fucks into your slick little cunt, and you’re nodding weakly, feeling him take you over.

“Never, going anywhere. Yours.” Sukuna slams into you once more, rolling his hips just so, you’re cumming right with him, his hot gooey load pouring inside your slick, fluttering walls, when he drinks up your kisses, holding you so tight you can scarcely breathe.

“Mine, all mine, aren’t you brat?” You’re nodding weakly, so full of him, his cock just spurting even more deep against you, as he rests his head on yours, struggling to catch his own breath.

“Yours, only yours.” Your desperate kisses slowly ease, as the two of you wash each other, and soon you’re drying up, checking on Touma, who’s still fast asleep in his bed, Sukuna watches as you give him a kiss good night, crossing his arms at the doorway while you tuck him in.

It makes the entire thing worth it all, when you shut the door quietly and he picks you up, you giggle as you cling to him. “Gotta carry you everywhere.”

“You want to! Big strong Kuna.”

“Psh.” He pulls you against him, exhaustion hitting alone with your fingers gently stroking his hair, as he clings to your warm body, so small compared to him yet here he is, holding on to you, to make him feel like only you can.

“Where is this date?” You ask softly, listening to his breathing slow, feeling his tense muscles relax just a bit in your hold, with your soothing touch.

“Fiji.” Your lips part in shock.

“We can’t just go to Fiji!?”

“Why not?” He scowls up at you now, your lips twitch in amusement, earning his deeper glare. “I can take you wherever the fuck I want, you’re mine.”

“I can’t just leave Touma for Fiji!”

“Miwa-”

“No, Kuna, I so am not.”

“You’re bratty.” He’s smacking your ass so hard you yelp, stinging and radiating with his big ass hand rocking through you.

“Shit, ow!” You bite him now, but you just get his cock twitching again, as your teeth sink deep, and he yanks your hair.

“Brat, swear to god you’re asking for it. Where do you want to go then!?”

“Like, dinner?”

“The fuck - all that I did and I get a dinner date? No.”

“Kuna…”

“Don’t you Kuna me, I demand better date. Gonna have me acting like I’m fucking broke.” You roll your eyes at him, sighing, now rubbing your stinging ass cheek and wincing.

“Dinner somewhere fancy.”

“Satoru bought his date a fucking boat, I need at least a helicopter, or a private plane-”

“So it’s a competition?” You ask, amused while Sukuna leans up on an elbow now, as you burst into a fit of giggles, now on your back, hand stroking his stubbled cheek.

“Of course it’s a fucking competition.” You can’t stop your laughter now, to his anger, just growing at you.

“But they don’t… um…” You take a breath then, getting a little more serious. “I have Touma, he’s part of my life. We can’t be quite so carefree, like Satoru and his girl, I’m afraid.” Sukuna exhales now, realizing your words.

You love your son so much, and he’s so happy that you do, but sometimes it drives him crazy, he has to always share his favorite person. “I guess we will bring him and Miwa to Fiji then.”

“Shit, you’re serious?” He huffs, pulling your body impossibly close, leaning down over you, lips ghosting over your collarbone.

“That way we still get time alone, but also with him.” You feel your heart fill with so much love it makes you want to burst, he sighs when he sees your eyes, glassy even in the dark of the night, the moonlight filtering in and casting shadows on your pretty face, illuminating those tears. “You cry too much.”

“That’s so sweet, oh my god.” He doesn’t answer, he just keeps pecking kisses, along your neck, and your collarbone, huge hands taking your waist, kissing even lower, to your rising breasts.

“I love you.”

“I know. Shush.” You’re whining out when he kisses down a path to your nipple, already perked up and ready, pulling down the top when the door knocks and he groans, scowling at it.

“Mama! Papa!”

“Come in!” You’re adjusting your shirt, ignoring your boyfriend’s honestly adorable pout as Touma bursts in, running over to the edge of the bed.

“What, kid? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He demands, crossing his strong arms over his chest now.

“Sorry, Papa Kuna!” Sukuna grimaces once more at the name, as Touma reaches up his little hands, opening and closing them, he turns over and rests his chin on his hand, raising a brow.

“Is that the name we’re really going with?” Touma is bouncing up and down, you giggle as you watch, rolling over on your side now, a hand on Sukuna’s bare shoulder.

“Can I sleep in your bed Papa Kuna!?”

“God no.”

“But, PapaKuna…” You earn his glare as you rest your chin on his shoulder now, pecking a kiss on his cheek. “He’s so cute though.”

“No sleeping in my bed, kid.” Touma pouts now, lip trembling, making Sukuna falter, he looks just like you, dammit. “Don’t you give me those puppy dog eyes, you learned that from your mom, huh?”

“But your bed, it looks so cool! Please!”

“Go to your bed!”

“I’ll go to sleep with him then.” You go to sit up, and Sukuna rolls his ruby eyes, pressing you back down, his glare even deeper.

“You’re going nowhere.” He sits up now, the sheet falling, revealing his bare, tattooed body, Sukuna looks even more of a huge, huge man when he picks up itty bitty Touma from the floor, unceremoniously plopping him down between you two. “There, just one night, though, got me kid?”

“Yay! Big bed, big bed!” Touma’s smacking a kiss on his cheek, Sukuna’s wiping it off with a disgusted look, then softens as Touma kisses your cheek now. “Mama, I get to sleep in the big bed!”

“You do, it’s super comfy too.” You’re tucking him under the covers now, as he snuggles up, and Sukuna crosses his arms, earning your smile.

“Papa Kuna, lay down.” Your words have Touma laughing, as he reaches his little hand out and tugs Sukuna down towards him, until he reluctantly lays his head on one of the black satin pillows, and Touma hugs him around the neck.

“Who’s clingier, you or the kid?” He looks over Touma’s head at you, you lay down now as well, an arm around Touma, resting on Sukuna’s waist over the soft, weighted blanket.

“It’s a toss up.” You press a kiss on Touma’s head, brushing his hair back to see his adorable face, already content with a smile. “Do you like Papa Kuna better than Mama!?”

“No, but he’s so comfy!”

“Tch. Comfy.”

“He is comfy, huh?” You wink at Sukuna, whose hands are just awkwardly up as the kid snuggles against his chest.

“Your hands are cold, shit!”

“Sorry Papa.” He just hums and snuggles closer, the moment making you fall ever deeper in love, Sukuna’s got his arm around you both then, with an annoyed sigh, the three of you snuggled in the enormous bed. It feels…

Perfect.

“Kid, ya wanna go on a plane ride?” He asks, and Touma yawns, nodding.

“A plane!? Planes are cool!”

“There you go, we’re going to Fiji.” Sukuna smirks, clearly happy he has won, as Touma now turns and cuddles over to you, looking up at you and smiling happily.

“A plane!” He’s so excited, but so tired, precious as you stroke his cheek. “Mama, we'll have fun on a plane.”

“Then I guess we will have to all go, hmm? And bring Miwa?” Your words just excite Touma more, you watch Sukuna’s full lips twitch in amusement.

“Miwa too, it’s going to be so fun. When will we go?” He turns his head to Sukuna, as he snuggles closer, and Sukuna’s hand is gently brushing your hair back off your face.

“What about this weekend?”

“That soon?” You ask softly, as Touma is dozing off, little fingers gripping your pajama top, you rest your chin on his head, eyeing Sukuna now. “We don’t have to go right now, we have all the time in the world.”

“I need… a break.” You see then, how exhausted he really is, and shit, so are you after all of this. “And I want to take my girl out.”

“Your girl.” Your whisper is met with his kiss, he is dying to hold you in his arms, but the little kid in the middle doesn’t bother him honestly, in fact he enjoys watching his face smile in his sleep more than he’d admit, affection flowing for the extension of you. His gaze goes back to you, your lashes lowering, casting shadows against your cheeks. “I like that.”

“Being my girl? Of course you do.” He kisses you once more, relaxing more and eyeing Touma now. “Does he… ever bring him up?”

You tense a bit, shaking your head. “He did a little before, but not since we’ve been with you. He doesn’t really know him. But now he has you, we both do. Papa Kuna.”

“Ugh.” You’re laughing softly as he kisses you again, sweeter. “Only once is he sleeping in my bed.”

“Only once, sure.” Sukuna’s half assed glare just makes you smile, as you stroke his soft pink locks back. “I’m excited for Fiji.”

“You better be. Now, get to sleep.”

“Work tomorrow?”

“Change of position for you.”

*****

One Week Later

“Look at Pookie, she’s a baddie.” Satoru’s husky voice hits you as you’re counting money in Sukuna’s office later that day, legs crossed in a little black business outfit that Sukuna must have custom made, because it’s just too slutty honestly, and fits you far too well. When he’d seen you in it, he’d about lost his mind, the memory makes your cheeks heat up.

“Hey, Satoru.” You smile now, standing up and hugging him, you touch his cheek with a frown, seeing the blooming purple bruise along his cheek. “You okay?”

“I’m good, promise. My girl said I’m hot with this apparently.” You giggle then, shaking your head as he presses a kiss on the backs of your fingers.

“Of course you are, I heard you bought her a boat for a date huh?” He grins, wiggling his brows now, as the two of you walk over to Sukuna’s desk, and you divvy out a huge stack, handing it over.

“Of course I bought a boat, I needed to one up your date, no offense. Ah, thank you for the money, mommy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You snort in laughter at him, sitting back down, taking out your pen and scribbling information down. “That’s your cut for the most recent run, not that your little rich ass needs any.”

“Hey now, you’re getting mean, don’t let Kuna make you too bratty.”

“What now?” You glare at him as he leans back, lowering his shades, crossing his leg at the ankle. “You’re the only brat here.”

“Meanie!”

“Arguing, huh?” Toji walks in now, winking a dark green eye at you, taking the huge stack from your hands. “Thanks doll.”

“Of course.” You’re scribbling more down now, as Suguru walks in, yawning, and you study the men’s faces, still bruised and cut, making you sigh.

“Hello, love.” Suguru takes the stack as you hand it out, frowning at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel you’re all hurt because of me.” You bury your face in your hands now, taking a shaky breath as the men frown, looking at you.

“No, it’s not you, it’s the shit Zenin, okay?” Toji’s hand comes to your shoulder, warm and comforting.

“Still, you’re all beat up.” You lift your head, tears falling when Choso walks in, you’re sniffling as you go to hand him his cut.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, violet eyes glimmering, as if he feels your emotions. You nod with a tremulous smile.

“We get beat up all the time, part of the job description, sweets.” Satoru tries to ease your worries, but it just doesn’t sink in.

“You’re promoted, look at you.” Choso’s words make you smile a little more firmly, dabbing at your eyes now.

“I am, from now on I’ll be handling all of the money, I actually took accounting believe it or not.”

“A stripper accountant? Hot.” Suguru makes you giggle, when Sukuna walks in, you realize then you’re in a room full of mobsters over six feet tall, all with bruised knuckles and abrasions, and you’re the one holding all their money. There’s some power to it, what Sukuna’s given you, as he eyes all of the men, too close for his comfort.

“She’s not stripping anymore, she can manage the girls and the money.” He strides forward, walking around the desk now, lifting you from the seat to sit in the chair instead, yanking you down on his lap.

“Then why am I wearing office strip clothes?” You tease, he grins, eyeing the amount of cleavage hungrily.

“It’s the uniform, brat.”

“Uh huh! Anyway, they were just trying to make me feel better.” Sukuna’s hand comes to grip your waist, as he eyes the ledger you’ve been filling.

“She thinks it’s her fault, you should make her feel better, Kuna.”

“I swear to god, Satoru.” Satoru’s laughing as he wiggles his fingers in a farewell, and Sukuna’s alone with you now, in the big office he’s basically now set up for you as well, the door clicking quietly, when his thumb swipes a tear on your cheek. “You know how to make me jealous.”

“Oh stop, they were just being sweet.”

“Psh, sweet mobsters, what’s next?”

“You’re the sweetest.”

“That’s it.” You gasp when he’s got you bent over, yanking up the mini skirt that is barely covering your ass, watching it bounce and caressing your ass over the dark fishnets you wear, before smacking the fuck out of it.

“Ah!”

“Calling me sweet, brat? How sweet am I?” He’s smacking your other cheek, stinging so bad, but you feel the wetness drooling against your panties, biting your lower lip to hold back a cry.

“I’m an account manager now, Mr. Sukuna. I’m complaining to HR.” You tease, grinning over your shoulder, he raises one of those brows, leaning over you now, one hand gripping yours over the cool wood of the desk.

“Toji is HR. What’s he gonna say?” You giggle, but it’s cut off when he’s smacking you right between your thighs, exhaling against your neck, and the sweet ache dulls to a throbbing need.

“Toji cannot be HR, maybe Choso. He’s so cute you know- ow!”

“That’s it. I’m breaking out the whip.”

“Kuna!”

“You’re a brat - f-fuck…” He’s trailing off when you’re arching your ass up, pressing against his growing length, eyeing him.

“No one’s as sexy as my Kuna. Papa Kuna.”

“I’m done.” Sukuna pulls open a drawer, you flush when you see it, a little black leather flogger, then you glare.

“Who’d you use that on, Candy?” He grins now, standing tall and pressing you down by the back of your neck.

“Arch your ass up, brat.” His murmur is met with your immediate response, arching for him, despite you running your mouth, you want it. “Jealous of Candy, how can you be? Have you seen yourself?”

“If the whip touched her I swear- mnh!” He taps you with it gently, a low throaty laugh, wrapping his hand around your neck as he gently smacks the other side of your ass cheek, making your tummy clench.

“I like you jealous, it’s sexy… just like this outfit is ending me, look too fucking good in it, brat.”

“You want me all slutty, hmm?”

“Just for me.” His possessive tone sends shivers through you, he’s smacking your cunt lightly, stinging and making you wetter, before he presses the leather against your clit over dripping wet panties, just when the door knocks and he groans out his frustration, your little giggle earns you a sharp bite on your neck. “I’ll finish this later, just wait.”

“I’m terrified, Papa Kuna.” He puts the whip up, adjusting your skirt before he sits back down, pulling you right on his thigh, exhaling at the heat he feels, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand right on your tummy.

“Gonna have you so full of me.” His whisper in your ear has you shivering, biting your lip, he watches with a cocky grin as the knock starts again. “Come on in, then, shit.”

“You’re so friendly, you know.” Toji walks in then, frowning over at Sukuna, and you feel the energy shift.

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, Toji sighs then.

“I may need some help with something.” You look at Sukuna, nodding and walking away, touching Toji’s shoulder gently, earning his little smile.

“It better be good, just had my girl bent over my desk.” Sukuna leans back, crossing his arms, legs spread, as Toji shuts the door behind him, staring at it for a moment.

“That shot girl…”

“You think she’s hot?”

“She’s… I need to know… about her.” Sukuna snorts a bit then, leaning forward on his hand. “Yeah she’s hot, okay?”

“I didn’t realize I’m running a matchmaking service. I should charge you.” Toji snorts, sitting down across from him now. “Shit you’re serious?”

“Just want info. I helped you plenty, ya owe me something.”

“Shit, alright, but I swear if you interrupt me fucking again, I’m gonna take you the fuck out.” Toji chuckles, and Sukuna starts wrapping up the rest of the money. “What did you wanna know?”

Later on, as you both are overseeing the club, Sukuna finds you again, with the strobing lights going, the music reverberating through your bodies. There are dancers everywhere, in various stages of undress, cocaine being sold with every fucking shot, this is not ordinary life, but it is your ordinary life now, the hustle of it all, the thrill when his hands are on your waist.

“Toji’s down bad.” He says, and your brows raise in surprise.

“Toji Fushiguro!?”

“Mmhmm. He’s gonna be the next lovesick fool. God, look at Gojo.” You giggle as you see him, cupping his girl’s face, looks so intense they could fill an entire fucking room.

“Let them be happy, you crab.”

“Crab!?”

“Mmhmm. We’re happy. Yeah?” Your pretty smile ends him, as he pictures just everything he wants from you.

A whole fucking life with you.

“Ready for that trip tomorrow?” He asks, hand entwining with yours, turning your chin up as he hugs you from behind.

“I can’t wait, Kuna.”

A/N- Toji's story is up nextttt - preview here. And ofc we will get mob Gojo chap 4 Next (Losing Control Now) Next chap is the last of their storyyy, I've really had fun, ty for those who have loved on this story with me! <3

Taglist #1- @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua @mai-505 @suguru-nugget

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #strip club owner sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x female reader #sukuna x fem!reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #divider by cafekitsune #sukuna fluff

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polkadotzzzz · 5 months ago

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sevika eating you out on your period!

18+, mdni, somnophilia, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, age gap, period sex.

you were woken up by the sunlight creeping in your room and the sharp stabs of pain in your lower stomach. whining in annoyance, you took ahold of your pillow, bringing it up to cover your face, trying to block the light out, but the feeling of heat between your thighs—no fingers curling in the deepest parts of you—tears a whimper from you.

yanking the covers back, the sight that greets you makes a moan tumble out.

sevika's hair was messy from slumber and her shirt discarded elsewhere. her hands were curled around your thighs, holding you open as she devoured you as if you were a juicy exotic fruit. her lips and cheeks were stained with red wetness, blood, along with your own arousal. it was breathtaking the way her eyes were dilated, the pure hunger in the way she ravished you. fuck....

sevika always fucked you while you were on your period; she never turned away the offer to take you; she didn't care where it was; she'd always bend you over and fuck you until you reduced to nothing but tears and sobs of pleasure; it was her thing.

"f-fuck," you gasp as she gives a particularly hard suck on your clit. your hands shoot down to grab onto her hair, tugging at the dark locks. you're rewarded with a moan that vibrates through you, coaxing a new gush of arousal to drip down on her tongue. she pulled back from your leaky cunt long enough to slip two thick fingers inside of you, soaking up the knee jerks and whimpers.

her fingers were a gift sent down from god, skillful, able to make you cum in just a few touches. your back arched as her mechanical hand slid up your body, slipping underneath your thin little nightgown to cup your tits. she rolled your nipple between your fingers, and you mewled, pushing your chest further up into her. it should be illegal how good she made you feel, like you were floating.

"sev──" voice breaking as her fingertips rubbed against the spongy spot inside of you, pleasure coursed through your veins.

"hmm?" her red-stained lips kissed your inner thigh sweetly, a stark contrast to the fast-moving fingers inside your heat. "what is it, doll?"

"i──"

you couldn't speak; all you could do was moan as she took what she craved.

the hand on your tit pulled away to land a slap to your thigh hard. the force of metal hitting your skin was enough to tear a yelp from your throat. you whimpered, pain blooming up your thigh, but the pain made you gush.

"shit," sevika laughed, pulling her fingers out of you covered in the webs of blood and slick.

connected, they were, and you couldn't even be ashamed because it felt so good as she slid them back inside of you, easing in a third as her mechanical fingers rubbed at your clit. the cold of the metal and the warmth of her skin sent you into a spiral of confusion, unsure if you wanted to rock your hips down or buck them up. "you're soaked, doll. does it feel good?"

what a stupid question, considering you were nearing your peak

no response.

you couldn't form anything other than a babble of pleas begging her to keep going. her grey eyes hardened, and she pinched your clit just to hear that squeaky whimper. heat curled in her gut.

"open your eyes," she demanded, gruff and in charge. "look at me, girl. don't make me tell you twice."

oh, the way she spoke made your chest heave. she was so much older than you, and she made sure you knew it, always using that condescending tone on you....

you forced your eyes open so you could glance down at her taking in the mess of her. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. this was so dirty, so raw, blood was staining your thighs as well as your pink satiny sheets. it stained sevika's mouth like she had dug into a juicy pomegranate and not your sopping cunt. she grins up at you, wild, and unashamed, and at the same time, she sucks your sensitive nub back into her mouth, reveling in the noises you let out.

you whine, spreading your thighs wider in invitation for her to go faster── and god, does she do just that.

her fingers pound into you, each time a gush of arousal drips out or a drop of blood; she fucks it back into you, not letting up even as you thrash and cry and grip her shoulders.

she sucks your clit until it’s throbbing against her tongue. she spits dirty words at you until your thighs are squeezing her head so tightly she fears she may suffocate. she ignores her own aching core in favor of bringing you to your orgasm.

she loves making you cum, loves how each orgasm seems to taste sweeter than the last, loves your taste even more. she could eat you out for hours and would never get bored. there’s a certain liking she's taken to your cunt, one that has her head buried between your thighs for what feels like hours. it’s her duty to make you cum as many times as she possibly can, and today it’s only the first.

your orgasm feels like you’ve left reality for a moment. white splatters across your vision for a moment, dots taking over shapes and shapes turning into blurs of stars. the heat burning in your stomach was a raging inferno starting from the deepest pits of your belly and rising up to your head.

your release shoots out of you, hot and pulsing and so, so wet. you're......squirting all over sevika's forearm and chin, creating an even bigger mess than before, the bloody stain growing larger by the second, the burning desire increasing. all you can do is suck in gulps of air as you try to come down from your high. you curl in on yourself weakly, pushing sevika away to bring your legs up to your trembling body, sensitive and so, so tired.

large, wet hands grip you by the calves, yanking you back down the bed.

you whine in confusion and peek an eye open.

your gorgeous lady simply yanks your thighs back open and, to your despair, pushes three fingers back inside you. you cry out weakly, coming out as a garbled whine as she abuses your sloppy hole. sevika chuckles, a deep smirk shaping her dark lips. "sweetheart..." her fingers press right into your sweet spot.

"you can give me one more, can’t you? be a good girl and keep your legs open."

not proofread <3

#sevika #sevika x you #arcane #wlw #sevika smut #sevika x reader #smut #hannah's little corner ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

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little-jana · 3 months ago

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"Flirt Lines Are Open"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: use of Y/N, Spencer being a flustered and blushing mess, flirting, teasing from the team

Wordcount: 800

Summary: You work behind the scenes at the BAU. Every time Spencer calls you for information, it turns into a full-blown flirt fest.

You barely looked up from your multiple monitors as your phone buzzed on your desk. Without checking the caller ID, you already knew who it was.

You grinned, adjusting your headset before answering in your most sultry voice, “BAU Information Hotline, you’ve reached your number-one fan. How may I assist you, Doctor Reid?”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of Spencer clearing his throat. “You, uh—you really need to stop answering like that.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. “If I don’t flirt with you over the phone, how else am I supposed to keep you entertained in the field? What do you need, handsome?”

Across the bullpen, Emily and JJ exchanged looks. Morgan, who was within earshot of Spencer’s end of the call, slowly turned his head with an expression of pure amusement.

Spencer sighed but didn’t hide the tiny smile in his voice. “I need you to cross-check a list of known aliases for our unsub against financial records from the last six months.”

“Anything for you, genius,” you purred. “But if you wanted to hear my voice, you could’ve just said so.”

“(Y/N)…” Spencer warned, but you could hear the slight hitch in his breath.

Morgan’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked around the jet where several agents were now trying (and failing) to suppress their giggles.

“I mean, come on, Spence,” you continued. “You always call me first, even when I’m not the best person to ask. Is it because I have the best research skills, or because you just can’t resist the sound of my voice?”

“Both?” Spencer offered hesitantly.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Emily stifled a laugh by covering her mouth, while Hotch subtly shook his head as if resigning himself to the reality that this was just… how you and Spencer operated.

Morgan, however, was in full entertainment mode. “Oh, hell no,” he muttered under his breath, before turning toward Spencer with a smirk.

Spencer had turned red, holding the phone slightly away from his ear as if that would somehow make the situation less embarrassing.

Morgan leaned forward. “Pretty Boy, I never—ever—wanna hear that again.” He paused, then smirked. “Actually…?”

Spencer groaned and pressed the phone closer to his ear again. “Ignore him.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you replied, clearly having heard Morgan. “I only have ears for you.”

Spencer let out a soft, almost pained laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep calling.”

Morgan shook his head. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or horrified.”

“I’d go with impressed,” JJ added, barely containing her laughter.

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just—do you have the records?”

“Of course, Spence. I had them pulled up five minutes ago, but I was having too much fun hearing you squirm,” you admitted.

There was a chorus of “oohs” from the team as Spencer groaned again.

“You’re evil,” he mumbled.

“But you love it,” you teased.

Morgan leaned in once more, voice dripping with amusement. “Hey, (Y/N), when Pretty Boy gets back, you should tell him how much you love his brain.”

“I do love his brain,” you said easily. “And the rest of him isn’t bad either.”

Spencer, now completely red, abruptly ended the call.

The jet erupted into laughter.

---

When the team finally returned to Quantico, Spencer found you waiting at your desk, an innocent smile on your lips. “Hey, genius. Missed me?”

Spencer sighed, rubbing his face. “I have never been more humiliated.”

You grinned. “So, same time tomorrow?”

He huffed, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away.

Morgan walked past, clapping him on the shoulder. “Man, you’re so whipped.”

Spencer just shook his head. Maybe he was. But with you? He didn’t really mind.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler

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rosierin · 2 months ago

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not so easy | atsumu miya

synopsis; atsumu didn’t mean to spiral. but jealousy hits different when the girl you’re kinda-maybe-sorta in love with starts laughing at someone else’s jokes. now the apartment’s tense, the silence is loud, and his pride is doing everything it can to keep him from saying what he actually means.

(aka: i miss you. i’m sorry. i don’t know how to do this—but I want to.)

disclaimer; this fic will bounce between atsumu and (y/n)'s pov!

a/n; dont worry this aint super angsty, just a bit more introspective than what i usually write. ive weaved in a soft suna moment and some light-hearted bro talk :p

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

Atsumu Miya rarely got jealous.

Not because he’d never been given reason to—but because, in his eyes, he was the reason.

He had the looks. The charm. The talent. A fast mouth to back it all up and the skill to make sure it never sounded hollow. He knew what he brought to the table, and he brought it loudly. With flair. With confidence. With certainty.

Even when it came to Osamu—his twin, his mirror, the one everyone always loved in a quieter, steadier way—it had never been envy. No, with Osamu, it was rivalry. Pure and simple. The kind that lit a fire under his skin and pushed him forward. Faster, stronger, better. It made him hungry, sure—but not bitter. Never bitter.

That wasn’t jealousy. That was drive.

But (y/n)?

(Y/n) was different.

The only person who’d ever made something ugly twist in his chest and settle there like it belonged.

And it wasn’t even that she did anything. That was the kicker. She just was.

Sweet smiles, soft hands, warm eyes. Always so patient with him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Always seeing through the noise, the flash, the jokes—cutting clean through to the part of him he didn’t know how to talk about. She had this way about her—like she didn’t just look at people, she read them.

And for someone like Atsumu, who’d always been so loud about who he was… it was equal parts thrilling and terrifying to be understood so quietly.

She got under his skin without trying. Without even knowing.

And maybe that was why the first time he’d ever truly felt jealous, it had come out of nowhere. Like a sucker punch. No warning. Just a quiet ache and the unmistakable sense that something was his, and someone else was about to take it.

He remembered the moment vividly.

It was stupid, honestly.

They were just picking her up from class.

The three of them had done it a dozen times—Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna strolling across campus like they owned it, waiting outside the writing building for her to appear like clockwork.

It should’ve felt normal. Like a routine.

But not today.

The simple reason being? She wasn’t alone when she walked out.

Atsumu noticed before anyone else, mid-conversation with Suna about something most likely irrelevant. His voice trailed off when his eyes locked on her. She was standing next to a guy. Tall. Kinda clean-cut in a “tries but not too hard” sort of way. He had rings on his fingers, a journal tucked into one arm, and the relaxed confidence that rubbed Atsumu the wrong way instantaneously.

They were talking. Close. Closer than necessary.

His smile was easy, practiced. And worse—(y/n) was smiling back, her laughter ringing through the campus.

It wasn't just a polite chuckle, either. Not just a soft smile. She was laughing. Head tilted slightly, eyes crinkled, the way she only did when something genuinely caught her off guard.

Atsumu’s steps faltered.

Suna glanced sideways. “You good?”

“Huh?” Atsumu blinked, covering it up with a grin. “Yeah. Peachy.”

But he wasn’t. Not when he could already hear it coming—like a freight train on a collision course with his mood.

“Don’t forget to send me those notes, sweetheart.”

Atsumu stopped dead.

His breath hitched.

Did he…?

Osamu made a noise. Suna raised a brow. Nobody said it, but they all felt the shift in the air.

“Did I hear that right?” Atsumu started, his voice cracking somewhere between disbelief and irritation.

“Uh-huh,” Suna said flatly.

“Who does he think he is?” Atsumu muttered, voice dropping into something lower. More personal.

Osamu and Suna exchanged a look. Osamu was the one to diffuse the tension, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Ain’t that yer line?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu replied—too firm. Too quick. Too obvious.

“Didn’t realize you trademarked it,” Suna added, dry as always.

(Y/n) spotted them and waved, her smile lighting up like always—blissfully unaware that a war had just begun inside Atsumu’s chest. She jogged over, cheeks flushed, still catching her breath.

“Hey! Sorry, we ran a little late. That’s Tetsu—he’s in my poetry elective.”

Sweetheart.

It echoed like a drumbeat in Atsumu’s skull.

He forced a grin. “Sweetheart, huh?”

(Y/n) blinked. “Oh—yeah, he just… says stuff like that—kinda like you do. It’s not a big deal.”

No big deal.

Right.

Totally.

Atsumu stared at her, pulse tapping loud behind his ears. “‘Kinda like me,’ huh?”

He'd almost hissed.

She blinked again, her smile faltering just enough to make something in his chest twist. Her brows pinched, just slightly, like she was trying to figure out what she’d said wrong.

“S’wrong with you?” she asked lightly, eyes flicking between him and Osamu like the latter might have answers.. “You’re acting a bit weird."

“Nothin's wrong,” he shot back—too fast. Way too fast. “Just didn’t know we were handin’ out pet names now, s’all.”

Osamu gave him a warning look. The kind that meant, pull it together.

But Atsumu was already halfway gone. His fists were already clenched in his hoodie pocket, and the words were already bubbling up.

It was the first time he’d ever hated someone for being nice—for being funny.

For making her laugh.

He didn’t say a word the rest of the walk.

He kept his eyes fixed ahead. Not because there was anything worth looking at—he just needed something to anchor him. His stare went vacant, unfocused, like his brain had gone somewhere else entirely. The path in front of him blurred at the edges. Everything around him—the footsteps, the breeze, the faint hum of traffic—faded into background noise.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Osamu making light conversation with (y/n), mulling over dinner ideas like nothing was wrong. Her voice chimed in now and then, soft and bright, completely at ease. Suna lagged behind, phone in hand, probably on Reddit.

But Atsumu barely registered any of it.

His brain was too loud. Too hot. Churning, hissing, burning.

He felt like a kettle left on the stove—lid rattling, steam building, seconds from boiling over.

He was stuck on that one stupid word. That name. That guy.

Tetsu.

He’d said it so casually. Sweetheart. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like he hadn’t just kicked over a landmine.

Atsumu bit the inside of his cheek.

It wasn’t even the word, not really. It was the ease of it. The way (y/n) had smiled when Tetsu said it. The comfort. The familiarity. Like it was something she expected from him. Like she liked it.

Atsumu didn’t know when she’d gotten close to this guy. Didn’t know he was part of her writing class. Didn’t know they walked together after class. Exchanging smiles. Laughing at his jokes.

All things she used to do with him.

The thought settled in his gut like a stone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that night, back at the apartment, (y/n) padded into the kitchen in search of tea—only to pause when she saw him. Atsumu stood in front of the fridge, bathed in dim light, staring blankly inside like he’d forgotten why he opened it.

He didn’t reach for anything right away. Just stood there a moment longer, eyes flicking lazily over the shelves like nothing in there was quite worth the effort.

He hadn’t noticed her yet.

“Hey,” she said softly.

His head jerked slightly at the sound of her voice, like he’d been pulled from far away. “Oh. Hey.”

He offered her a glance—brief—before turning back around. No smile. No warmth.

(Y/n) watched his back as he grabbed a carton of milk, lifting an arm to take a long swig.

She raised an eyebrow. She didn't approach him right away. Just stood at a reasonable distance, observing. Assessing, rather.

“You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, voice dripping with fake charm.

She gave him a slow blink. There it is.

It wasn’t the first time he’d deflected, but this time it landed harder than usual. She wasn’t oblivious. She had a very solid idea what was bothering him—and she wasn’t about to spell it out for him. Not yet. Not when she was giving him the chance to say it himself.

Part of her wanted to scoff at her own restraint. Fat chance.

“You were kinda quiet earlier,” she probed, still gentle, still coaxing.

“Just tired."

A lie. So obvious it was almost insulting. His voice didn’t have that worn-out drag she recognized after long practices or late nights. This wasn’t fatigue. This was avoidance, plain and simple.

Why couldn’t he just admit it?

Her jaw ticked once. That was the worst part—he didn’t even try to sell it. Like he was hoping she’d let it slide.

But she didn’t.

Not tonight.

“Right. Just tired.”

A pause stretched between them, taut and humming.

“I talked to Tetsu,” she added casually, watching him from the corner of her eye. “He texted me after we left. Said you seemed… intense.”

That got his attention. She didn’t miss the slight twitch of his brow.

“Oh, did he?” His voice had gone flat. “Glad I made an impression.”

(Y/n) hummed. “You did. He asked if you hated him or if you were just having a bad day.”

“Sure he did.”

(Y/n) folded her arms, watching as he tinkered aimlessly around the kitchen. Looking for a distraction. Back turned, facing her like a stone wall.

“He’s actually really nice, you know.”

She could've sworn she heard a scoff. “I’m sure he is."

There it was again. That clipped tone. The snide edge.

“Funny. You made more of an effort hiding your frustration earlier when I was laughing at his jokes.”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t even look at her.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know, if you’ve got something to say, you could just say it. Instead of sulking and being passive-aggressive about a guy who—surprise—was literally just talking to me.”

“I’m not sulkin'.”

She scoffed. “You’re definitely sulking. You’ve been avoiding me since the second I walked out of class.”

Atsumu’s mouth opened like he wanted to argue—but then he just sighed and ran a brisk hand through his hair.

“Listen, ’m not in the mood.” He finally turned to her, giving a look that landed somewhere between warning and weariness. “I’m gonna head up. Long day.”

“Nope,” she said, stepping aside to block his path, her expression sharp. “You don’t get to pull the moody card and ghost the conversation.”

Atsumu’s brow twitched. “What conversation?”

(Y/n)’s gaze didn’t waver. “The one where you admit you were jealous and being kind of an ass about it.”

His jaw ticked.

And for a second, neither of them moved.

The air thickened.

His voice dropped into a velvet-coated jab. “Cocky little thing.”

Before she could retort, he leaned in. Just enough to make it infuriating. His breath brushed her skin. His eyes darkened.

“If it’s eatin’ at ya so much,” he murmured, voice curling into a sneer, “why don’tcha vent to Tetsu about it?”

He didn’t bother hiding the distaste. The name rolled off his tongue like a slur.

(Y/n) opened her mouth to argue—but he was already brushing past her, his shoulder bumping hers with just enough force to make it feel deliberate.

Prick.

“See ya tomorrow,” he muttered.

And just like that, he was gone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morning sunlight filtered through the slats of the kitchen blinds, catching dust in its beams and painting the floor in pale, hazy stripes. The house was unusually quiet for this hour. No footsteps. No clatter of cutlery. No muffled Osamu humming through breakfast prep. Just the low, humming quiet of a place still steeped in sleep—or maybe something heavier.

(Y/n) stepped into the kitchen barefoot, hair tied back messily, a faded hoodie swallowing her frame. Her footsteps were soft against the tile, the kind that came from habit, not caution. But even still, she paused at the threshold.

He was already there.

Atsumu stood by the counter, hunched slightly, shirt wrinkled, cradling a mug in both hands. He wasn’t doing anything—just staring into the steam, eyes distant, jaw slack. Whatever expression had hardened on his face overnight hadn’t softened with sleep.

She lingered by the doorway a beat too long.

He didn’t look up.

(Y/n)’s chest pulled tight, something quiet but sharp blooming in the space between her ribs. This wasn’t new—Atsumu avoiding eye contact when he was pissed. What was new was the ache behind it. The fact that she’d stopped knowing what version of him she was going to get.

Still, she moved toward the kettle, reaching over to grab a mug. Her arm brushed his.

He stepped away like he hadn’t noticed her at all.

Right.

Of course.

She inhaled slowly through her nose, counting the seconds it took for the kettle to boil, willing herself to stay grounded. Calm. Collected. Not bothered.

But the silence scraped at her like sandpaper.

"So we're doing this, then?" she asked quietly. No heat. No sharpness. Just a weary tilt of her voice.

Atsumu didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

She turned slightly, just enough to see the angle of his profile. His eyes were downcast. Still wrapped in thought, or maybe just pretending to be.

“I said one thing. One,” she murmured. “And you made it a whole thing.”

That got him. She saw the twitch in his jaw.

But again—no answer.

Her hand tightened around her mug. She could feel the ache of it now. Not just his silence—but the effort it took to pretend she didn’t care. To match his pettiness stride for stride.

“Tetsu texted me again last night,” she added, deliberately casual.

Nothing.

She let that hang between them. Like bait. Like a challenge.

He sipped his coffee. Still didn’t meet her eyes.

Coward.

Her voice was quieter this time. Flat. “You didn’t say goodnight.”

He set the mug down a little too hard, the ceramic clink echoing through the quiet kitchen.

And then, like a final blow, he turned and left.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t glance back. Just walked out, hoodie sleeves bunched at his wrists, footsteps heavy and retreating.

She stood there, heart stinging, tea forgotten.

Some fights had shouting. Some had tears.

This one had silence.

And silence, she was starting to realize, hurt a whole lot more.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Movie night wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

The living room was warm, lights low, a blanket tossed over the back of the couch, a half-finished puzzle pushed to one corner of the coffee table. Everything looked normal—comfortable, even. But (y/n) could feel the tension in the room like static. It clung to the air, heavy and unspoken.

She sat curled into the armrest, legs tucked beneath her, a cushion hugged to her chest. Across from her, Atsumu slouched in his usual spot—hood pulled up, expression neutral, thumbs idly tapping the rim of a water bottle like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to drink it or launch it across the room.

Osamu handed her the popcorn with a soft, “Here,” like he was passing a truce flag.

“Thanks,” she murmured, barely glancing at him.

The movie played on, some half-hearted action film Suna had picked. It barely held anyone’s attention. He was slumped low in his armchair, feet on the ottoman, phone balanced on his thigh, thumb flicking lazily through some feed even as the screen ahead flashed and boomed.

Halfway through a loud car chase scene, her phone buzzed quietly in her lap.

Rin: y’all break up or sth?

(Y/n) stared at the message for a second, then glanced at him. He didn’t look up. Didn’t even blink. Just kept scrolling.

She rolled her eyes and typed back.

You: we’d have to be dating for that.

A second passed.

Rin: mhm coulda fooled me

She let her phone drop to the couch cushion beside her, face down.

Still, Atsumu hadn’t said a word.

Not to her. Not since last night.

Every word was filtered through Osamu or aimed at Suna. She could’ve been a coat rack for all he acknowledged her presence. Like she’d been demoted to background noise.

The thing that grated wasn’t the distance—it was the performance. The calculated effort to pretend everything was fine, that they were fine. Like he hadn’t iced her out in the kitchen the evening he picked her up from Uni. Like he hadn’t dropped that little dagger of a line and walked away without looking back.

She glanced at him.

He was still staring straight ahead. Jaw tight. Fingers twitching.

“Had coffee with Tetsu today,” she said suddenly, voice light.

The silence that followed was immediate. Dense.

Suna’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Osamu shifted in his seat.

Still, Atsumu said nothing.

Not even a glance.

Look at me.

“He read me one of his new pieces,” she continued, picking a kernel of popcorn, twirling it between her fingers. “He’s been working on this stream-of-consciousness thing. It's nice. Really vulnerable.”

Osamu cleared his throat. “Huh. Sounds... poetic.”

“Mhm.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I told him it reminded me of Atsumu, actually.”

A breath hitched across the room. Quiet, but she caught it.

Still, he didn’t bite.

Instead, he stood. Abruptly. Walked to the kitchen under the guise of grabbing a drink. A drawer opened. Closed. Too loud. A bottle cap clinked against the counter.

(Y/n) let out a soft breath and sagged slightly into the couch.

Suna didn’t look up. “You’re really gonna keep poking him like that?”

“I’m not poking,” she replied. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

She turned her gaze to the glowing TV screen, unreadable. “For him to grow up.”

The words left her mouth cooler than she meant them to. She hadn’t planned to say them. Hadn’t even realized she felt them until they were out in the air between them, heavy and uninvited.

Suna didn’t reply right away. Just glanced sideways, his expression unreadable in the TV’s flickering light. Then, without a word, he leaned forward, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and sat back like he hadn’t just witnessed a relationship quietly unraveling beside him.

(Y/n) pulled the blanket a little tighter around her legs. Onscreen, someone was shouting. Something exploded. The room stayed quiet.

Atsumu never came back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Atsumu hadn’t planned on going to the library.

He hated the place. Too quiet. Too cold. Too many rules and not enough snacks. If hell had a waiting room, he was convinced it looked like this—rows of dusty books, stiff-backed chairs, and the constant, smug silence of people who actually enjoyed being there.

But his apartment was too loud, the team lounge was full of idiots, and his brain wouldn’t shut up long enough to let him nap. So here he was. At rock bottom. In the library. With a textbook under one arm and a pen he already wanted to snap in half.

It was fine. He’d find a table. He’d get his notes done. He’d move on.

Until the universe—as always—decided to make a complete joke out of him.

Of course the library was packed. Midterms or whatever. Every table was full. Every chair taken. Except—

His stomach sank the moment he saw her.

(Y/n). Back turned, head tilted just enough to catch the soft edge of her profile. Sitting across from none other than Tetsu Fucking Poetry Boy.

Atsumu stopped walking. Just for a second. Just long enough to internally scream.

And then, like fate had a sick sense of humor, he spotted the only available seat in the entire damn room—tucked in the far corner, across from a broken heater, a table that was just far enough to be forgotten but just close enough to give him a perfect, unobstructed view of her and her stupid, flowery friend.

Fantastic.

Absolutely fantastic.

He dropped his stuff on the table with more force than necessary and sat down with a grunt that earned him a glare from the girl at the next table. Whatever. He didn’t care. He opened his book, flipped to a random page, and tried to focus.

He really did.

But the thing about libraries? Quiet meant every little sound stood out.

Every scrape of a chair. Every soft murmur. Every laugh.

Especially her laugh.

That gentle little breath of sound—the one she tried to hold back when she found something really funny. Like now. Apparently Tetsu had cracked some hilarious observation about metaphors or whatever the hell he wrote about.

Atsumu’s jaw clenched. His pen hovered uselessly over his notebook. He hadn’t written a single word. He could feel his pulse in his temple.

Another laugh.

A quiet, almost bashful, “You’re so dumb,” from (y/n), and then a hushed giggle that sliced right through him.

His grip tightened around his pen. He didn’t even realize how hard until his knuckles ached.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Of all the places, of all the tables, of all the goddamn days—

A shadow passed over his table. Then another.

“Ya look like yer about to shit yerself,” Osamu said, rounding the table.

Suna followed, dropping his bag with a dramatic sigh. “Aw, did we miss the meltdown?”

Their arrival was both a curse and a lifeline.

Atsumu didn’t answer right away. He just shoved his notebook away with a quiet swoosh and dropped his pen like a man resigned.

“Didn’t realize this was a group project,” he muttered.

Osamu and Suna dragged their chairs in unison, the legs scraping against the floor loud enough to draw a look from a girl at the next table.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Atsumu asked, narrowing his eyes at Osamu. “You bored or somethin'?”

“Speak for yourself,” Suna added. “You haven’t voluntarily stepped foot in a library since high school.”

“What can I say?” Osamu shrugged and pulled a battered notebook from his bag, slapping it onto the table. Loose pages fluttered out across the wood like confetti. “Finals got me in a chokehold.”

The paper rustling stirred the girl next to them again—her eyes already narrowed over the rim of her glasses like she’d been waiting for an excuse to hate them.

Suna turned in his chair, met her gaze dead-on, and jerked his chin like he was silently asking, something wrong?

She didn’t dignify him with a response. Just rolled her eyes, gathered her books, and stormed off with the fury of someone who’d only gotten four hours of sleep and took that very personally.

“Charmin’ girl,” Osamu muttered, flipping a page.

Atsumu sniggered and stretched, arms overhead as his joints cracked audibly—like he’d been buried in his notes for hours when in reality... He glanced down at the desk. His notebook lay open in front of him, still blank. A glaring reminder of his unproductivity.

“What about you?” Osamu asked, already digging out a sandwich from his bag like this was a picnic. “You studyin’ or tryna chat-up some cute bookworm?”

Suna reached for the half-empty pack of jelly sticks peeking out of Osamu’s bag, his movements obnoxiously smooth. “Aw, 'Samu, you shouldn’t have.”

Osamu shot him a withering glare.

Atsumu huffed a dry laugh, arms folded on the table as he angled his head downward. “I wish.”

He flicked lazily through his notes, nose wrinkling like the very act disgusted him. “‘M here for the same reason you are.”

Then, under his breath—eyes drifting toward that one table in the distance—

“’Least that was the plan.”

Neither of them missed the shift in his tone.

They didn’t say anything at first. Just exchanged a quiet look as they started unpacking their own notes.

Then, like clockwork, Suna leaned to the side, following Atsumu's line of sight. He didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Oh,” he said. Just that. One syllable, dragged through understanding.

Osamu followed his gaze. “Seriously?”

Atsumu didn’t answer.

“Yer pathetic,” Osamu said flatly, peeling the crust off his sandwich before plopping it into his mouth.

Atsumu gave him a glare that could’ve soured milk.

“Were ya spyin’ on her?” He asked between mouthfuls.

“Fuck no,” he hissed. Neither seemed convinced. “I ain't lyin’! You think I’d willingly set foot into this dweeb cesspool just to spy on ‘er?”

The duo exchanged a long, knowing look.

Atsumu clicked his tongue, agitated. “I ain't,” he repeated, more defensive. “They just happened to be here. I walked in and bam—there they were. Right in my face.”

“You could’ve walked out,” Suna offered, shrugging as he bit into a jelly stick.

Atsumu scoffed, mildly offended. “Yeah, right—and what would that make me?”

“A whiny little bitch."

Atsumu lunged for him on instinct, arm swiping across the table. Suna jerked back, grinning around the purple jelly stick.

"Leave 'em be," Osamu said coolly, reading over his notes. He didn’t even glance toward them—clearly didn’t see the appeal, unlike the other two. "They're only talkin'."

“She’s gigglin',” Atsumu hissed, barely above a whisper. “Ya don’t giggle at someone unless they’re funny. Or cute. Or both.”

“God forbid someone be funny," Suna drawled, rocking lazily on the back two legs of his chair, still sucking on that goddamn jelly stick. Atsumu resisted the urge to rip it out of his mouth.

“His jokes suck.”

“How would you know? You been on a date with Tetsu as well?"

Atsumu sneered at the word.

Date. Yeah, right. Who takes someone to the library for a first date?

But what if it wasn’t the first?

What if there had already been others?

How many others?

Atsumu swallowed hard and shoved the thought deep into the back of his skull. Clicked his tongue again.

“I don’t need to. Just look at him. He's a poetry major. I can smell his bottom shelf vanilla body spray from here.”

Suna snorted despite himself.

Osamu pressed a knuckle to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Atsumu slumped further into his chair, eyes on his shut notebook, expression tight.

Then Osamu’s voice broke the moment. Low. Blunt. But not unkind, a rare flicker of seriousness settling between his words.

“You do realize this is yer fault, right?”

Atsumu didn’t reply, nor did he look up.

He knew.

God, he knew.

That didn’t make it hurt any less.

A beat passed. Long enough for it to feel like a decision.

Then Suna leaned forward, propping his chin on his palm. “Y'know, there’s this thing you can do when you like someone…”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “What.”

“It’s wild,” Suna said, deadpan. “Really cutting-edge.”

Osamu glanced up from his notes, barely containing his grin.

“You just… tell them,” Suna finished.

Atsumu scoffed. “Yeah? And say what, exactly?”

“Dunno.” Suna slurped the last of his jelly stick. “That's something for the both of you to figure out."

Osamu hummed, nodding with what one might consider mild interest. “Ya wouldn’t be in this mess if ya just talked to 'er."

“I do talk to 'er.”

“Right,” Osamu drawled. “I mean properly. None of yer passive-aggressive bullshit.”

Atsumu let out a sharp breath through his nose. “She’s the one who’s all over that fuckin’ guy.”

“So what if she laughs at a few of his jokes?” Suna replied. “You sound like a 14-year-old.”

Atsumu scowled, shoulders squaring as he leaned back in his chair. “Ya don’t get it. I’ve never seen her giggle like that before. Not even with me or—” he gestured toward Suna, a flicker of emotion sneaking in. “Even him. Her childhood bestie or whatever.”

Suna’s brows lifted—not quite a challenge, but close.

Or maybe that was just how Atsumu chose to take it.

“She does,” Suna said evenly. “You’ve just never been around to hear it. (Y/n)’s a pretty giggly person by nature.”

Atsumu tried not to let his irritation show.

Tetsu was the problem right now. Tetsu.

Osamu leaned forward to grab a highlighter, casually creating a barrier between the two. “Y’know, if yer this insufferable when yer not datin' her, I’m terrified to see what happens when ya are.”

“Shut up, 'Samu. No one asked."

"I'm serious. Yer lack of communication is astoundin'."

“Plus she doesn’t owe you anything,” Suna added, smooth as ever.

Atsumu’s jaw tightened.

Right. Because they weren’t dating.

Just like Osamu had conveniently pointed out.

He already saw where this was going, and he hated it.

If they were about to lecture him on feelings and intentions and his goddamn love life, he was out.

It was none of their business. Whatever he felt for (y/n)—vague as it was, loud as it got—it didn’t concern them.

Feelings were messy. Conversations were messier.

And if there was one thing Atsumu had learned about liking someone, it was this:

You either commit, or you run.

And he’d never been good at choosing.

Not when it came to this.

Love.

"Relax." Osamu's voice sliced through Atsumu's thoughts like a knife through hot butter. “We’re not here to lecture ya. All we’re sayin’ is—talkin’s an option. You know (y/n). She’ll listen. In fact 'm sure she'd be more than happy to discuss with ya."

"She's always been the more vocal type," Suna added, shrugging calmly.

“Yer clearly bothered by the idea of them datin',” Osamu said. “So ask 'er about it.”

“'M not bothered.”

Osamu and Suna gave him the exact same look. Flat. Devoid of humour.

Atsumu cringed.

Okay. Whatever. Point taken.

So maybe he was a little peeved.

How could he not be?

The guy wore v-necks and chinos—chinos! (Y/n) could do better. She should do better.

Atsumu slumped lower into his seat.

Then, quieter. More careful:

“...I just hate how easy it looks.”

Osamu looked up. Suna’s chair landed back on all four feet.

“With him,” Atsumu added, not quite meeting their eyes. “Like... he don’t gotta try.”

That sobered them just a little.

But only a little.

“Maybe he doesn’t,” Osamu said.

Atsumu looked up, brows furrowing—almost like that stung more than he expected. Like he was trying to figure out if Osamu meant it as an insult.

“But you do,” Osamu added, voice steady. Clarifying. Grounding.

Suna nodded. “And that’s not a bad thing.”

Atsumu didn’t say anything. Just glanced across the library again—at (y/n) and Tetsu, still talking, still laughing like no one was watching.

Then she looked up.

Caught his stare.

Even from this far, he could’ve sworn her eyes widened—surprise, confusion, maybe even guilt. He didn’t know.

Didn’t want to.

He sucked in a breath through his nose, heart jumping in a way he blamed on being startled.

He hadn’t meant to get her attention.

Still, as he toyed with his pen between his fingers, his friends’ words lingered.

Talking to (y/n)...

God.

Where would he even start?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

(Y/n) hadn’t even looked up when the door to the library opened. She didn’t need to—her back was already straightening at the sound of three sets of footsteps, too loud, too confident, and far too familiar.

She glanced up. And there they were.

Atsumu. Osamu. Suna.

She blinked, stunned for half a second—not at the sight of them, but at the sheer audacity.

What the hell were they doing here?

No, seriously—what were they doing here?

The library, with its creaky chairs and strict “no snacking” policy, was sacred. Quiet. Orderly. Full of mild-mannered English majors and caffeine-fuelled med students. Not... jocks. Not six-footers in hoodies and joggers who made every chair they touched squeak like a scream.

She stared for a moment longer. They looked so out of place it almost made her laugh. But the amusement quickly gave way to something tighter. Something warmer.

Annoyance.

Surely—surely—this wasn’t on purpose. Atsumu couldn’t have known she was here. There was no way he’d actually come all the way to the library just to eavesdrop.

Osamu wouldn’t let him do that. Suna definitely wouldn’t.

…Right?

She must’ve looked as annoyed as she felt because Tetsu lightly tapped her arm, pulling her attention back.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low.

She blinked. “Yeah. Sorry. Zoned out.”

Tetsu smiled politely, but his gaze flicked to where she’d been staring. His expression didn’t change, but something in it cooled.

(Y/n) tried to focus again, nodding along as Tetsu talked through the reading. She picked at the cuff of her hoodie absently, resisting the urge to glance over.

She managed to concentrate for a few minutes.

...Until a soft thunk drew her attention again.

She looked.

Atsumu had tossed a pencil at Osamu. Osamu had dodged. And the girl behind them—bless her—had taken it square to the forehead.

The sharp What the hell?! that followed echoed through the library.

(Y/n) slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh.

The poor girl stood, flushed and furious. A heated whisper-argument broke out, heads turned, and thirty seconds later, the librarian was shooing the trio toward the exit.

She caught Atsumu’s eye right before he disappeared behind the shelves. His expression unreadable. She didn’t bother trying.

Tetsu turned back to her, one brow raised. “They're your friends, right?” A pause. Then he sucked in a breath—almost like a wince.

(Y/n) caught it. Just a flicker.

But she blinked it away. Maybe she was reading too much into it.

“They sure are lively,” he added, a dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She exhaled through her nose—half sigh, half laugh. “That’s one way to describe them.”

Tetsu nodded slowly, like he was trying to piece something together. “The blonde one… Asumo, right?”

Her jaw tensed.

“Atsumu,” she corrected, almost automatically. For some reason, the mispronunciation irked her more than it should’ve.

“Right,” Tetsu said, still smiling. “He your boyfriend?”

She spluttered. “What—no.” A scoff, her hand waving the idea away like smoke. “God, no.”

Then, after a beat—because she was curious. Because she couldn’t help herself—

“What makes you think that?”

Tetsu gave a small shrug. "He seemed... irritated the other day. I figured it was about the nickname.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think he was mad because that’s what he usually calls me.”

Tetsu arched a perfectly groomed brow, his tone dipping into something almost… accusing. “He calls you sweetheart?”

(Y/n) blinked once. “Yeah— all the time. But it's not romantic."

She said it like it was obvious. Like it meant nothing.

Because, in Atsumu’s world, it didn’t.

In fact, he called her plenty of nicknames, each one as flowery as the next. That’s just who he was: a flirt. Loud, casual, effortless, charming. He’d say it to anyone. Probably had.

She just happened to be around the most.

She lived with him, after all. So yeah—perfectly normal. Completely harmless.

Still, Tetsu didn’t look convinced. His jaw had tightened slightly, mouth flattening into something too neutral.

“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you say, (y/n).”

The use of her name—so pointed, so deliberate—made something in her clench. She didn’t like the tone. Didn’t like the implication. Didn’t like having to read between the lines again.

She was tired of that. Tired of guessing how someone felt. Tired of almosts and maybes and weird, strained silences.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel like reading poetry anymore.

She grabbed her bag, slinging it over one shoulder as she stood. “I think I’m gonna head home,” she said, forcing a smile. “Not sure I can take another stanza about tragic lovers and unspoken longing.”

Tetsu blinked, glancing up at her. “Oh. You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve hit my limit for symbolism today.”

He nodded, but his eyes followed her a little too long as she turned to leave.

And as she walked toward the exit, her phone buzzed.

She swiped it open.

Rin: did you see us get kicked out the library lol

(Y/n) huffed a laugh, thumbs already moving.

You: unfortunately yes 🙄 what the hell were you all doing there anyway??

The response came fast. Typical.

Rin: studying. obviously. ‘samu brought snacks. got us kicked out.

You: sure. snacks. i’m sure that’s all it was. pretty sure i saw a pencil fly across the room

Rin: lol that was atsumu but the snacks played a part the librarian confiscated them can you believe that

You: the audacity

Rin: ikr

She smiled a little. Just a flicker. But it faded as quickly as it came.

A beat passed before the next message popped up.

Rin: you alright?

She stared at the screen for a second. Then typed, slowly.

You: not really.

Another pause. Then:

Rin: wanna talk about it?

You: yeah. if that’s okay.

Rin: where are you?

You: heading home. passing near the park.

Rin: omw

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The park hadn’t changed much.

Same creaky swings. Same chipped blue paint. Same patch of wildflowers that looked like they’d been planted by accident. The sandbox was mostly abandoned, save for a single forgotten shovel sticking out like a gravestone. A breeze swept through the trees, rustling the leaves like a lazy hush.

It was quieter now—most of the kids had gone home, and the sun had dipped low enough to cast everything in a soft, hazy gold. The kind of light that made you want to stay still a little longer. The kind that made memories feel like they could sneak up on you.

(Y/n) curled her fingers around the cool metal chains of the swing, trainers skimming slow figure-eights in the dust.

Across from her, Suna was perched on the monkey bars like he had been since they were kids—legs slung over one bar, back leaning against another, phone held lazily in one hand. The golden light filtered through the trees, catching in his lashes, painting half his face in sun and shadow.

“Trying to get a good shot?” she asked, voice light.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Sun’s cooperating for once.”

She watched him adjust the brightness, zoom in, tilt slightly left. His thumb hovered over the screen longer than necessary—like he was waiting for the exact second everything clicked into place.

Then, quietly—“Did Atsumu say anything?”

He didn’t look up. Just tapped the screen one more time. “About you?”

She scuffed her shoe in the dirt. “Uh-huh.”

Once satisfied with the photo, Suna hopped down in that unbothered, fluid way of his and wandered over. The swing beside hers groaned as he dropped into it, long legs stretching out, tucking his phone into his hoodie pocket.

“Yeah. We spoke briefly. But before you ask, I’m not telling you what he said.”

She turned toward him, brows furrowed. “Why not?”

He shrugged, watching the wind tangle a leaf mid-air. “S’not my place.”

“But I tried talking to him,” she muttered, frustrated. “He just brushed me off. Couldn't get a word out of him. It's annoying. I know he's jealous—he doesn’t exactly try to hide it. But then he ignores me. Or shuts me out. I don’t know what he wants from me.”

Suna didn’t answer right away. Just sat quietly, rocking a little, watching a squirrel skitter across the gravel.

It was always like this with him. He never rushed to respond. Letting her words hang in the air like low-hanging fog. The silence between them wasn’t heavy—it never was with Suna. Just thoughtful. He let moments breathe. Let the thoughts come in their own time.

She heard the gentle jingle of his chains as he shifted. Then came his voice, soft and even.

“Just give him time. Like I said, we talked. It wasn’t much, but… he came forward in the end. I think he’s thinking about it just as much as you are.”

She didn’t respond right away. Her gaze followed the light bleeding through the treetops, catching flecks of dust in the air like glitter.

“Really?” she asked eventually, more hopeful. “You actually think so?”

Suna nodded slowly. “Mhm. Just be patient with him. You know what he’s like—he hasn’t got it all figured out yet.”

(Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “That sure is a nice way of phrasing it.”

He huffed, something that could’ve been a laugh of his own. Then, for the first time, he turned to look at her. His smirk was soft. Teasing. Familiar.

“What are you two like, eh?”

She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gave her a flat look. Raised a brow. Said nothing.

When she didn’t drop it, he finally leaned back against the swing, arms resting on the chains, eyes skyward.

“You and Atsumu. Always dancing around each other. When are you gonna fess up?”

“There’s nothing to fess up,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Her voice went quiet. “I don’t know.”

Suna didn’t press. He just… stayed. Listened.

And so, she kept talking.

“It’s hard to tell with Atsumu. Some days it’s like he’s pulling me in, and other days it’s like I don’t exist. I try not to let it get to me, but... it does. It makes me feel stupid. Like I’m chasing something that’s only real in my head.”

The words fell out easier than she’d expected. She didn’t usually say things like that. Not even to herself.

Suna was quiet for a while. He didn’t look at her. Just let the chains creak beneath him as he rocked gently back and forth.

Then—just once—he glanced her way.

Something flickered in his eyes. The kind of look you only catch if you’re really paying attention. And she was. But it was gone just as quickly.

He leaned back again, legs stretching farther. “You’re not stupid.”

She breathed out slowly. “Thanks.”

Another silence passed, this one lighter.

“I’ll wait,” she said after a while. “Like you said. I’ll be patient. I just…” she shifted her grip on the chains, “I hope he doesn’t take too long. The house feels weird lately.”

Suna nodded once. “He’ll come around.”

“You sure?”

“No,” he said, smirking slightly. “But it sounds better than ‘maybe.’”

She laughed. That soft, airy kind—the kind you don’t even realize you’ve been holding in.

The sun dropped lower, casting the swings in long shadows. The wind stirred the trees. In the distance, a dog barked. Somewhere nearby, wind chimes tinkled lazily.

They didn’t talk much after that—just sat there, rocking slowly, watching the sky turn honey and then violet.

No drama. No tension. Just quiet company.

And for a while, that was enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

Which was stupid, really—because most days he’d kill for some peace. But now, with the sun low and bleeding orange through the living room blinds, all that quiet did was piss him off.

He paced.

Not on purpose. Not even consciously. Just… back and forth, socked feet dragging along the scuffed wooden floor. One hand tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, the other stuffed deep into his pocket, pulling the fabric down like it might ground him.

Where the hell were they?

He didn’t need to ask. He knew.

(Y/n) and Suna were out. Probably talking. Probably somewhere breezy and warm and not here, while Atsumu stewed in a thick, molasses-flavoured mix of annoyance, regret, and something else he refused to name.

He paused by the window. Squinted.

Still no sign of them.

“Quit pacin'. Yer gonna wear a hole in the floor,” Osamu said from the couch, voice lazy. Barely looked up from his phone.

“‘M not pacin',” Atsumu snapped.

“You are.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if someone—” he cut himself off, jaw tight.

Osamu just looked at him. That stony expression that always made Atsumu feel like a ten-year-old throwing a tantrum. He turned away before his brother could say something actually annoying.

He hated this. The waiting. The guessing. The not knowing where she was or what she was thinking. Who she was laughing with. What she was saying.

He’d seen the text on Suna's phone. Hadn’t read it—just saw the preview flash up on the lock screen. A little part of him itched to unlock it. To see if maybe they had said something about him.

It didn’t.

And even if it did, what then?

Was he gonna scroll through their conversation like some jealous ex-boyfriend?

He wasn’t even her boyfriend.

God.

Atsumu scrubbed a hand over his face and slumped onto the edge of the couch, elbows to knees, head in his hands. The silence buzzed louder now, filling all the cracks in the room that she usually softened.

He missed her voice. Her laugh. The way she always had a mug in her hand, never drank from it, just carried it around like a comfort object. He missed her random shower thoughts. The way she kicked her feet sometimes when she was on her phone, unabashed when an edit of her favourite character came up on her 'for you' page. The sound of her bedroom door creaking.

He missed her.

And it was ridiculous. Because she wasn’t gone. She was just… elsewhere. With Suna.

And Suna got her. Always had.

That part didn’t usually bother Atsumu—except now it did.

Now, it bothered the hell out of him.

She’d gone to him, hadn’t she? When everything got awkward. When Atsumu had snapped at her in the kitchen. She’d walked away, and she’d gone straight to someone else. Which, fine. That was fair. That was her right.

But it still stung.

Atsumu sank into the couch, tilted his head back and let out a slow exhale, like maybe if he breathed deep enough he could push the weight off his chest.

“She’s not mad at ya,” Osamu said, out of nowhere.

Atsumu blinked. “Did I ask?”

“No,” Osamu replied, cool as anything. “But yer face is loud.”

Atsumu muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothin'.”

They sat in the golden hush of almost-evening. The kitchen clock ticked in the distance, the kind of mundane background noise that felt cruelly loud when you were going insane inside your own head.

“I don’t get it,” Atsumu muttered, half to himself. “She knows ’m jealous. So why won’t she just… say somethin'?”

He hated saying it. Jealous. But Osamu knew better than anyone, was privy to all the ugly feelings that stirred inside his brother's heart. He'd perhaps be the only person Atsumu would ever admit them to.

Osamu didn’t look up from his phone. Just hummed low in his throat and replied, “Say what?”

Atsumu opened his mouth.

Closed it.

What did he want her to say?

That she noticed? That she cared? That she liked him back?

His mouth twisted. “I dunno,” he said lamely. “Somethin’. Anythin’.”

Osamu finally set his phone down, the click of it hitting the table louder than necessary.

“Were ya expectin’ her to apologise?”

Atsumu bristled. “No. I—no.”

“What, then?”

He didn’t answer.

Not right away.

Because the truth was—yeah. Kinda.

Not an apology, exactly. But some kind of… recognition. Like maybe she’d look at him and say I see you. I get it. I feel it too.

And maybe that made him a jerk.

But still.

Still.

“I don’t know,” Atsumu said again, voice sharp now. Frustration gnawing at him like a bloodhound. “I don’t know, okay? I just—"

He cursed under his breath. Pushed his back off the couch again. His head dropped low.

Osamu watched him quietly for a moment before sighing. “Maybe she’s tired of bein’ the only one who says stuff.”

Atsumu didn't raise his head, just glanced at his twin. “Huh?”

“She always meets you halfway,” Osamu said. “Always puts in the effort. Maybe she’s waitin’ to see if you’ll do the same.”

Atsumu went quiet.

Because deep down, he knew Osamu was right.

He never said it first. Not when it mattered. Always wrapped it up in jokes, or flirty one-liners, or fake indifference. Anything but real words. Anything but actual feelings.

Because actual feelings?

Those meant vulnerability.

Those meant risk.

And he wasn’t ready for that.

...Was he?

His eyes drifted to the front door again. Wondering if she’d walk through it. Wondering if she’d look at him. Wondering if he’d know what to say when she did.

He didn’t.

But maybe… maybe he wanted to try.

He ran a hand through his hair, mumbled into the room, “Think I messed up.”

Osamu didn’t gloat. Didn’t tease. Just leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Then fix it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The front door creaked open with a push of her palm, the familiar groan of the hinges dragging out into the quiet apartment.

She stepped inside, soft-footed, like her presence might echo.

Suna followed behind, wordless as always, slipping his shoes off with that same lazy, practiced ease. For a second, they just stood there in the entryway, the stillness stretching around them like plastic wrap—tight, uncomfortable.

The hallway smelled like soy sauce and garlic. Osamu was cooking.

(Y/n) didn’t hear music though, which was strange. The kitchen was never silent when he cooked. No playlist humming through a speaker. No news show playing in the background. Just the hiss of something on the stovetop, the low clatter of utensils. And—

A sound.

The couch creaked.

She didn’t look.

She knew.

Instead, she toed off her shoes and offered a quiet “thanks” to Suna, who gave a non-committal nod and wandered off in the direction of his room, phone already out. Her own fingers curled slightly at her sides. Her palms felt hot. She wasn’t sure why.

Or—no. That was a lie.

She knew exactly why.

He was here.

And she could feel it.

Feel him.

Even without looking, she knew he was sprawled across the couch like always. She could practically hear the way he was pretending not to notice her. The quiet shuffle. The strained stillness.

God.

Why did it feel so different?

Why did the air feel so heavy?

(Y/n) cleared her throat and headed for the kitchen, willing her steps to stay even.

Osamu stood at the stove, stirring something in a pan. His eyes flicked toward her, brief but not unkind.

“You eat yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Wasn’t hungry earlier.”

He nodded once, like he understood. “It’ll be ready in ten.”

“Thanks.”

The silence was less awkward here, but still not comfortable. Not really. Osamu, ever the unbothered one, didn’t push. Just continued cooking with the same practiced calm he always carried.

(Y/n) lingered near the fridge, fingers tapping idly against the handle. She wasn’t thirsty. She just needed something to do.

“So,” Osamu said after a pause, “how'd the date go?”

She turned sharply, blinking. Oddly enough, she couldn't tell who he was referring to. Her study session with Tetsu, or her impromptu outing with Suna.

Not that it mattered. She knew what he was trying to do.

His face was neutral—but his eyes were teasing. And that said enough.

She clicked her tongue, but it was anything but hostile, if not a bit thankful. “Zip it, you."

A soft chuckle. “Just tryna ease the tension."

She huffed, but it soothed something in her chest.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the faintest movement—just a shift of a leg over the side of the couch, the tiniest rustle of fabric. Her throat tightened.

Still, she didn’t look at him.

Didn’t give him the satisfaction.

Didn’t trust herself to, anyway.

Osamu slid the pan off the burner and lowered the heat. “He was a pain while you were gone.”

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t have to.

They both knew who he meant.

She glanced toward the stairs. Her room upstairs. Her retreat. Her escape.

“Alright,” she murmured. “I think I’m gonna go—”

“Wait,” came a voice behind her.

Not loud.

Not urgent.

Just there.

Like it had been waiting.

(Y/n) froze. Turned her head slightly. Atsumu stood halfway off the couch, one hand gripping the back of it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the room.

His eyes met hers—and dropped just as fast.

The silence that followed was jagged.

“Are you—” he started. Then stopped. His mouth opened again, but no sound came out. His shoulders sagged the tiniest bit, like whatever fight he’d worked up had drained out of him the second he saw her.

She tilted her head.

Waited.

But he said nothing.

Just sank back onto the couch with a muttered, “Never mind.”

Osamu didn’t hide the sigh that escaped his chest.

Suna, reappearing at the hallway edge with a protein bar half-unwrapped, squinted at them all like he'd walked in on an unfinished scene.

Nobody said a word, letting the awkwardness hang in the air.

Osamu was the first to break it.

He scratched the back of his head. “Honestly.”

(Y/n) didn’t look back to the couch.

Didn’t stay, either.

She turned and climbed the stairs.

Every step heavier than the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He didn’t move at first.

Not when she turned.

Not when she climbed the stairs.

Not even when her door clicked softly shut—quiet, polite, final.

He just sat there.

Still.

Sprawled across the couch like dead weight, eyes fixed on the ceiling as the last sliver of sunlight bled out through the windows.

For a second, he thought he might actually fall asleep.

But that would’ve required peace. And tonight, peace was in short supply.

He groaned—loud, frustrated, full-bodied—and dragged both hands down his face until his cheeks burned.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, to no one in particular.

Then he pushed himself up, stomped toward the stairs loud enough to draw attention, and slammed his bedroom door a little too hard.

The room was dim. Warm gold edged the corners of his blinds, spilling faint strips of light across his desk. It painted soft shadows on the wall—shapes that didn’t matter. Nothing in here really mattered. It all felt too small. Too hot. Like he couldn’t stretch out without touching something that reminded him of her.

He sat on the edge of his bed.

Stared at the floor.

And then, slowly, like it might explode if he moved too fast, he reached for his phone.

The screen lit up with a dozen stupid notifications. Group chats. A calendar reminder for weights tomorrow. Osamu sending him a TikTok with a caption that just read: you. He ignored all of it.

Opened her name.

And stared.

Just stared.

The chat window was blank.

He hadn’t messaged her all day. Or the day before. Not since—

He swallowed. Didn’t finish the thought. He'd never gone this long without texting her.

He started typing.

hey.

Then:

sorry i’ve been weird.

Then:

i know ive been an ass lately. i didnt mean it. okay, maybe i did. but its not because of you. not really. i just

He stopped.

Read it back.

Scowled.

Deleted all of it with one angry thumb.

Started over.

you and tetsu a thing?

Deleted that too.

do you wanna talk?

Backspaced it, letter by letter, like each key was pressing into his brain.

He tossed the phone onto his comforter and flopped backwards onto his bed, arms flung wide like he might summon answers from the ceiling.

What the fuck was he supposed to say?

Sorry I got jealous because another guy called you sweetheart?

Sorry I don’t know how to be normal when it comes to you?

Sorry I think I like you but I don’t know how to say that without making it weird and fucking everything up?

He groaned again, dragging a pillow over his face.

He hated this. He hated feelings. Hated how they sat on his chest like bricks, heavy and unrelenting. Hated how they didn’t go away just because he ignored them.

And God, he’d tried to ignore them.

He really, really had.

He thought maybe if he flirted like usual, if he brushed it off with jokes, if he let it simmer beneath the surface without naming it—maybe it’d go away. Maybe it’d stay casual.

But it didn’t feel casual anymore.

Not when her smile was the first thing he looked for in a room.

Not when silence from her felt like punishment.

Not when the idea of her with someone else made his skin crawl.

He sat up again, dragging a hand through his hair.

This was ridiculous.

He was ridiculous.

He looked at the door. Then back at his phone. Then back at the door.

Then stood.

Walked to it.

Paused.

Stared at the handle like it was a detonator.

If he knocked, there was no going back. No pretending nothing was wrong. No more brushing it off. He’d have to face it. Face her. And maybe that scared him more than anything.

He sighed.

Then—

The door across the hall cracked open.

Light spilled into the hallway.

And there she was.

They both froze.

Two doors, two hearts pounding, one painfully timed coincidence.

Like idiots in a teen drama. Like deer caught in headlights. Like everything was about to change and neither of them knew what to do about it.

He hadn’t meant to see her.

She hadn’t meant to see him.

Yet here they were.

Atsumu’s hand was still on the doorknob. Her hand was still curled around the railing. The soft lighting from her room spilled out into the hall, warm and golden, catching the strands of her hair and painting her in a glow that made his breath stick in his throat.

Her eyes widened when she saw him. Not in shock. Not quite. More like… hesitation. Surprise layered with something he couldn’t name.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft.

“Hey,” he echoed, quiet. Tight.

His fingers slipped off the doorknob.

She stood straighter, but didn’t move. Didn’t leave. The silence between them clung like fog—thick, hesitant.

He looked tired.

She saw it in the slope of his shoulders, the set of his mouth, the pinch between his brows.

He looked at her like she might vanish.

She looked at him like she was bracing for impact.

“I was just…” he gestured vaguely toward the stairs, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Dunno. Nothin’. Forget it.”

She didn’t.

“Were you coming to talk to me?”

He hesitated.

Then—too slow to pass as casual—he nodded once.

“Oh.”

Her fingers tightened on the railing. He noticed.

There was that twitch in his jaw again. The same one from the other day. She could see him wrestling with himself.

“Can we…” he gestured toward her room. Then flinched. “I mean—only if yer okay with it.”

She nodded, wordless.

He followed her inside.

Her room smelled like her. Like strawberries and peony and something warm underneath—comforting, familiar, terrifying. He didn’t sit until she did. When she dropped onto the edge of her bed, he took the desk chair across from her, backwards, arms resting on the top like a makeshift shield.

They didn’t speak.

For a second, they just sat there.

Her eyes flitted to his face. She could tell he was thinking. Could feel the war in his head.

Say it, she wanted to tell him. Say what you came here to say.

He cleared his throat.

“I’ve been…”

He trailed off. Then tried again.

“I’ve been actin' like a dick.”

She blinked, caught off guard. Then, slowly—“Yeah. Kinda.”

He huffed something that might’ve been a laugh if it weren’t so self-deprecating.

“I didn’t mean to take it out on ya,” he said. “I just…” His hand opened, then closed. “I dunno. I get… weird. When I don’t know how to say shit.”

“Uh-huh. 'Weird' isn't exactly the word I'd choose."

He glanced up—saw the faint smile tugging at her mouth, despite everything. It made something loosen in his chest.

“It ain't about him,” Atsumu said quickly. “Well—okay. It is. But not like that. I'm not mad ‘cause ya talked to 'im. I'm mad because—fuck, this sounds so stupid.”

“Go on?"

He stared at the floor.

Then: “I didn’t like how easy it looked.”

She frowned. “What did?”

“You. With him. Laughin'. Like it wasn’t hard. Like it didn’t take effort.”

(Y/n) stayed quiet, watching, waiting...

He met her eyes again. “I don’t know how to be easy with you.”

The words landed.

Heavy. Honest.

Something in her throat tightened.

She needed to make sure...

She shifted slightly. Her legs crossed at the ankle. Her fingers knotted in her hoodie sleeve. “When you say ‘easy’, you’re not just talking about making me laugh… are you?”

Atsumu's gaze drifted to the floor again.

God, he hated this.

Hated the tightness in his chest. The erratic pulse hammering in his throat. The heat coiling beneath his skin like it was trying to crawl out through his pores.

He made her laugh all the time. That wasn’t the problem. He could make her wheeze, snort, cry real tears from laughter—he knew that. He relied on that.

But that wasn’t what he meant.

Not really.

Easy meant... simple. Uncomplicated. Clean.

Tetsu didn’t hesitate around her. He didn’t second guess every word, didn’t overanalyse every glance, didn’t wrestle with the sick twist in his gut when she smiled and it wasn’t at him.

Easy meant: no stakes.

No fear of ruining everything.

No trembling line between friendship and something else.

Whatever this was with (y/n), it wasn’t easy.

He was too aware of her. Of her presence. Of the way his heart did stupid shit when she touched his shoulder or said his name just a little too softly.

Feelings like this weren’t easy.

They were messy.

And loud.

And goddamn terrifying.

Saying that out loud took more nerve than he had in him tonight.

His eyes flicked up once, lingered on her for a second too long, then dropped again.

“No.”

More silence.

She could feel her pulse in her throat now. Her hands had gone cold.

He hadn’t said it—not outright—but she knew.

She always knew with him.

His silence said more than any overconfident one-liner ever could.

She breathed in through her nose, slow and measured. “You’re not supposed to try so hard,” she said at last. “If something bothers you, you just have to... talk to me. Like this. Like right now.”

“I didn’t know if I could.”

“Why not?”

He swallowed. “Because…”

Because I think I like you.

He couldn’t say it.

Not now.

Maybe in another universe. One where he didn’t fumble every good thing that landed in his lap. One where he didn’t ruin things before they ever had the chance to bloom.

Maybe then.

But not here. Not now.

Fear. Doubt. Pride.

They wrapped around his heart like a vice.

Whatever expression he was wearing must’ve given it away, because she tilted her head just slightly, and her voice came gentler.

“If now’s not the right time, then… don’t. I’d rather you didn’t say anything if that's the case. Just… don’t hide behind attitude. Don’t shut me out.”

And that—god—that did him in.

Because she was too kind.

Too patient.

Too good.

He didn’t deserve that softness. Not after everything. Not after the way he’d acted. Not just about Tetsu—about everything. Every time he made her doubt, every time he backed away. Every time he was too much of a coward to commit to anything more than... this.

She should be mad at him. She should be cutting him down with a few choice words and turning her back on him for good. She should be—

But she wasn’t.

She was still here.

Still looking at him like he was worth understanding.

Still giving him the grace to figure it out.

It made him feel worse.

But it also made him want to be better.

For her.

“I thought if I ignored it, it’d go away,” he said, quieter now.

She smiled—sad, knowing.

Something twisted in his gut. “It never does.”

He looked at her again.

Really looked.

And she let him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Voice small. Stripped.

A beat passed. Maybe two.

Her face didn’t change. But her body relaxed a fraction.

She nodded once. “It’s alright. We’re alright.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”

She smiled then—soft and honest.

His heart pulled taut in his chest, stretched so tight it nearly gave out. But he smiled back anyway.

It was lopsided. A little wobbly.

A little too hopeful.

The silence between them softened, turned companionable—like a blanket pulled just barely up to the chin. Safe, but not quite warm.

She moved first, rising from the edge of the bed with a sigh, brushing non-existent lint off her sleeves.

“I’m heading down,” she said lightly. “Osamu’ll start mourning that stew if no one eats it.”

Atsumu stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. ‘Samu gets all dramatic when he’s ignored.”

(Y/n) gave a soft laugh, passing him on her way to the door.

Just before she left the room, she paused. Turned her head.

“I’m glad we talked.”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Me too.”

Then, because it felt like the only thing he could do—he reached out.

Just a little.

Just enough to catch her pinky in his for a second as she passed.

She glanced down at their intertwined fingers.

Didn’t pull away.

Didn’t linger, either.

The door clicked shut behind her.

And Atsumu was left standing there.

Hand still curled like it remembered.

Chest too full.

Room too quiet.

And somehow, still not ready to follow.

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onepiecepages · 2 years ago

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#I dont think namis' insane weather prediction skills early on is talked about enough #like of course climate baton comes in but like. this level of prediction and precision without ANY EQUIPTMENT is insane #it feels like she has some sort of power or inherent connection to nature when her tangerines are also bought into consideration that I fee #could have been grown on and she could have gone another direction as an almost sage #just like how I wish franky could have gone in the direction of doing the pure impossible with his building skills with franky skywalk #instead of his mech stuff #anyway tags #cp #eb #one piece #op #nami

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 month ago

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A Relaxing Caving Vacation

Yandere Male Naga x Male Reader CW: Noncon, fingering, anal sex, double penetration, copious amounts of cum, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, overstimulation Word Count: 3k (Comm for @fandomsfanman hope you all enjoy it!)

Hiking, camping, fishing, really any outdoorsy activity, these were the things that you enjoyed.

But you needed something new. Another frontier to explore. A new obsession for you to focus on.

That new focus was spelunking. Cave exploration. The air, the quiet, the hidden stone depths, a secret to be explored, carved by nature just for you! It completely captivated you.

Of course, you weren't insane! You didn't go anywhere really dangerous. No Nutty Putty incidents for you, thanks. You stuck to big wide open caves without any treacherous narrow paths, instabilities, or areas particularly prone to flooding.

You were trying to decide what cave to explore next, you finally settled on Springwell Cave.

Apparently at the bottom it had blue crystals that glowed and a small pond of water, clear as glass. Very shallow and very safe.

It sounded perfect. You'd hike there, camp a bit in the surrounding woods, and after all that build up you'd delve into the cave!

But it had been a while since anyone had visited Springwell Cave. Anyone human, that was.

And so in slipped a male naga named Urzum. A lean but somewhat muscular man with white hair, dark skin, and gleaming silver scales.

He loved the soft glow of the crystals, the pure pond, the safety and seclusion. It was the perfect home for him during the day. At night he'd leave and prowl for food.

Lately he had been prowling for something else too.

He was in rut.

His every night was spent fruitlessly searching the woods for a mate to sink his twin cocks into and then cuddle. But it seemed no one was interested.

There were no nearby nagas and the other forest folk fled from him in fear even though he had never once hurt or hunted another hybrid being, just regular feral animals.

And so every dawn he retreated back to what was now his cave and masturbated furiously in a vain attempt to take the edge off his rut.

Urzum was getting desperate. Whimpering as he constantly switched between his cocks, fervently jerking one and then the other, spilling his seed. He was so very eager to slip it into a lover he could call his own, instead he was wasting it on the floor.

The cave was filled with his musk. His need was palpable.

Your day was spent hiking to the campsite, sun shining, birds singing, the cool breeze pregnant with the scent of honeysuckle as it danced through the branches of the trees.

Sure you could have driven much closer, but why would you do that?

You thought to yourself that it was going to be a perfect day of hiking and camping leading up to the cave!

By the time you got there, there was still plenty of daylight left. You set up your tent and a small fire and cooked yourself up a can of stew you had brought with you.

You enjoyed your meal and then cleaned up and put out the flames before strolling around the area. You were too tired from all the hiking you had done earlier and wanted to tackle the cave the next morning when you were well rested.

As the sun began to set you felt a growing sense of unease. Like someone, or something, was prowling in the darkness. Watching. Waiting.

Though it was probably just an animal you couldn't shake the feeling. And of course, wild animals could be dangerous.

Urzum had slithered out of his cave and near your campsite. He had not seen many humans in a while. Could you be the warm fuck pocket he had been dreaming of sinking his dual dicks into?

The snake stalked you silently to get a better read on you. It seemed you were a skilled little camper, perfectly happy in the rough and rugged wilderness. That was important. If he had a human mate it wouldn't do for them to be all sad because they didn't have their modern conveniences.

It also seemed that you respected nature and cleaned up after yourself.

And then there was just something in your eyes that really sold him on you.

Back at camp you could feel a gaze boring into you and you could swear you caught the eyes of a predator in the brush, reflecting the fading light.

Maybe a wolf or bear had encroached into this area. Maybe there was a serial killer on the loose.

You relit the fire and lit a torch in it. You swung it towards the shadows.

"Just get out of here, whatever you are! I'll fight if I have to!"

Urzum was flat out crushed. You hadn't even got to meet him and already a potential mate rejected him! Maybe you just had some misconceptions about nagas. Or maybe his scent displeased you.

The naga slunk back to his cave early to sulk.

After a couple hours, sure now that whatever had been stalking you was an animal and that it was long gone, you finally managed to sleep.

In the morning it wasn't even something you were thinking about. No, you had a cave to explore!

You made your way to it and took a deep breath once inside. You had expected it to be the cool earthy air of most caves but instead you were hit with an almost tangy slightly sharp scent. It could almost be described as somehow heady.

Ignoring it, you continued on with your little adventure.

What you had been smelling since you had entered was Urzum's home were the pheromones from his rut. And what you also didn't know was that your scent stirred the naga from his normal day time slumber.

He was overjoyed, recognizing the smell immediately. You must have had time to think after he left so obediently and decoded that his smell was alluring after all!

Why else would you follow his trail and stroll right into his den when it smelled so very much like him?

There was simply no other explanation.

There were no other paths that would get you lost, and it was a small cave, so you would be there soon! He started tidying up and readying his nest for his nice new human mate.

As you progressed through the few large rooms and spacious corridors of the cavern the smell got significantly more pronounced.

Crystals also started appearing in the walls. Larger and brighter as you kept going.

The room before the final one with the water was where you arrived next. The smell was dizzying there.

The source was quickly discovered.

Slithering towards you from a dark corner with no crystals was a massive naga. The type of creature that you had only heard rumors about existing.

The human half had black skin and hair that blended in well with the shadows. His scales were like obsidian, except for the underbelly of his snake half which was pearly white.

Your first thought was that he was going to kill you with those sharp fangs, but then you noticed two large erect cocks bobbing as he headed towards you.

It took you too long to get over your initial shock and the monster had you.

"L-let go of me! I don't know what you expect, but you are NOT putting those in me!!"

You squirmed in his grip but he held you close, slowly removing your pack and clothing as he did so.

"Ah! Of course you humans only have one!"

He gently fondled your balls and cock as he said this.

"Well, don't worry, this will feel amazing!"

You tried to twist away but you were pathetic in comparison to him. His cocks oozed copious amounts of precum, the perfect lube, that he scooped up with two fingers and worked into your asshole until it was nice and yielding.

"I d-d-don't don't want th-this!"

His fingering had you stuttering and mumbling, but he wasn't going to stop there.

"You're just getting a cold tail, darling! I know how bad you want this, no need to be all shy~"

He licked a stripe up your cheek.

"Why else would you follow my scent into my den?"

You tried to elbow him in the stomach but he didn't even seem to notice.

"I didn't even kno-oooh mm uhhh~"

He had slipped one slimy cock into your well prepped ass, it kissed your prostate perfectly with each thrust into you.

"Seeee!? You make such pretty noises being bred. No need to deny what you want~"

You glared at him but couldn't summon the brain power to do anything else as embarrassing noises spilled from your lips as he filled you.

Then his other cock joined the first, the stretch overstimulating you and bringing you to pleasured tears that he licked away.

"All that denial for nothing my love~"

Urzum was so happy. His rut was finally being satiated. He finally had a perfect partner to cold close while he drilled them with his cocks.

"You're taking it so so well!

You glared at him again but your gaze faltered as you spilled your seed and cried out in orgasm.

Only the first of many as you discovered that nagas took quite a while to finish breeding.

Urzum caressed your belly, bloated with unimaginable amounts of cum. He kept cumming in you over and over with seemingly no end in sight.

You were a sweaty, unkempt, musky mess by that point and had gone completely limp other than the occasional twitch, shudder, or orgasm.

After 6 exhausting hours he finally pulled his monster cocks out of you and cleaned you all up and dressed you. He made sure you were hydrated with fresh water from the cave's pond and even cooked you a little snack.

You were so compliant all fucked out like that, so cute, Urzum was very pleased. He laid on his bedding with you nestled on top of his coils as if they were a cozy nest.

Urzum could scarcely sleep, thinking of how wonderful life would be with his new mate while you slept like a baby.

But if he thought you were just going to stay that way he was wrong.

It was the better part of a week before you fully snapped back to your normal self. It didn't help that his rut continued for a long time and he kept fucking you stupid for hours at a time every chance he got. He had taken advantage of your shocked and obedient state to get to know all he could about you and teach you about himself as well. As if you were dating.

But you were thinking clearly and the fuckathons he subjected you too no longer made you an idiot for hours after. So while he was out hunting at night you took the opportunity to get the hell out of there.

It had been embarrassing to be turned into a quivering moaning mess but that didn't mean you would stay that way. You weren't broken and that damn snake wouldn't get the chance to break you.

You know he has left the cave by now so you waste no time being sneaky or careful. You rush out, thankful for the linear nature of the cavern.

In no time at all your face is met with the cool, fresh, night time air of the forest. The first time your nostrils had been free of Urzum's strong musk. Even after his mating season, it had remained thick in the cave's air.

For the first time in a while it seemed as if luck was actually on your side. The night was well illuminated by the pearlescent full moon, you'd be able to run without fear of injury in the dark.

Your legs burned with the effort, carrying you as fast as they could to safety and civilization. Once you made it to your car you'd get the fuck home and put this whole mess behind you.

And you'd never go caving again. No, you'd find a more sensible hobby. Gaming, perhaps.

Your sliver of good luck had run out though. As you made it up a hill you smacked right into Urzum. You fell on your ass and looked up at the naga. He was holding two limp rabbits, a bundle of foraged leaves and roots, and looked stunned.

"Wh-what are you doing out of the safety of the cave, love?"

He wound around you, carrying you in his coils as he resumed his way home.

"Oh, you must have wanted to help me hunt! That's no job for you my little mate~ I'm the provider!"

You squirmed and thrashed, you started to cuss him out and correct him but what good would that do? If he thought you were trying to escape he might be more vigilant and it would only make it harder to get away later! Best to let him stay in denial and delusion.

Urzum set the rabbits and forage down where he prepped food and then carried you to his nest, laying you down gently.

"Hunting is my job, baby. It's so sweet that you wanted to help but it isn't your place. I'll remind you of yours since you forgot so easily."

You fought him, but he just thought it was foreplay.

"Aww, acting all tough even though your needy little ass wants my cocks so bad."

Your validating moans were music to his ears when he pressed into you. First one cock, then the other. Both worked tirelessly at filling you up with musky naga seed. He forced you into a mating press, lovingly claiming your mouth with his own as his forked tongue probed the depths of your mouth. You probably should have bitten him but you were lost in waves of pleasure with each rock of his hips into you.

The naga’s hands explored your sides, caressing you as he had his way with you. He broke the kiss, a string of saliva momentarily bridging the distance between the two of you.

“See, my love? You look so much better when you are in your proper place!”

He plunged into you hard and fast, you couldn’t even keep up your typical rebellious gaze. You moaned lewdly and often as Urzum took you. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as his dicks filled you up with his love, throbbing deep inside you for a few minutes as Urzum rode out his climax.

After that you were pretty quiet for a bit and your dedicated mate took the time to clean you up and make you some rabbit and veggie stew which you ate without complaint before going to bed. The effort of staying up late, running so much, and being fucked damn near senseless had taken a significant toll on your body.

The next morning you were clear-headed and better able to assess your situation. Running away hadn’t been successful. Nor had struggling during sex or outright telling him he was wrong and that you didn’t want to be his mate. You decided you just wouldn’t cooperate with anything he wanted at any level.

You wouldn’t even eat a single bite of food until he got the fucking point. Not one crumb.

When he tried to feed you some reheated rabbit stew the next day you refused to take the bowl that he handed you. When he tried to spoon feed you you moved your head away from the utensil, not letting it anywhere near your lips.

“I’d rather starve than stay here any longer!”

He smiled down at you and pinched your cheek in a way that felt condescending but was probably just meant to be sweet.

“Not hungry right now sweetie? That’s okay, you can have it later.”

But when later came you still refused. Now he was getting a bit worried, but you didn’t seem ill.

“I’m just not going to eat anything you touch!”

“Aww, is someone cranky? Are you mad because I haven’t been giving you enough affection? No problem, I know exactly what will work up a nice appetite and make you feel more than loved!”

“Wh-?”

Urzum put the bowl off to the side and pulled you close to him. He expertly removed your clothing in a flash and already had his fingers working his precum into your hole to stretch it. You fought, of course, but as always you were powerless against his invasion of your hole.

Your struggles quickly melted into little fidgets and squirms of pleasure as he sank both of his cocks at once into your well prepared asshole. You were on your knees in the nest taking both of his dicks, actually pressing your ass back against each thrust despite yourself.

“G-get off!”

“Don’t be fussy baby, I’m giving you what you need. You’ll feel better after this, I promise~”

He reached his arm around you and started jerking you off, his hand lubed with a mix of your precum and his, you scowled as you humped into his grip, cumming almost embarrassingly fast.

“If you just asked for breeding instead of getting all huffy we could do things a lot faster~ But I love when you get all bratty and needy!”

He kept working himself into you, playing with your spent cock, until you came two more times. You whimpered and moaned with each release until finally he flooded your depths with thick cum. You couldn’t see his balls, as they were nestled away internally, but they had to be huge to flood you so thoroughly.

As always, you were an overstimulated fucked out mess that was utterly helpless and obedient after a bout of lovemaking with your “boyfriend”. You complied with him spoon feeding you. He took it as proof you had just needed some sex to work up a proper appetite and to provide affection so you weren’t so fussy.

After your meal he cleaned you up and kept you warm and safe in his coils while you slept. He was content with how well he was taking care of you, you sleeping all cozy on him was proof enough of that.

You could act all defiant, bratty, fussy, and claim otherwise all you wanted but he knew you loved him, and he would NEVER let you go.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #my ocs #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere boyfriend #yandere naga #male reader #x male reader #male yandere x male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x male darling #My OCs #My OC Urzum #yandere imagine #yandere scenario

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