angelholic1

[angelholic1]

It should be me ⋆˙⟡

Secrets Part 2 ⤷ You cheat on your boyfriend, Rin Itoshi with his own brother. this time you get caught

pairing : rin itoshi x fem reader, sae itoshi x reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ

warning(s) : ooc sae. not edited, angst, cheating, conflict

The message came in just after sunset.

Rin was sitting in his room, the television on but forgotten, his legs stretched out in front of him, his phone resting limp in his lap. He wasn’t doing anything. Hadn’t been for a while. His thoughts were too crowded, his skin prickling with a tension he couldn’t name.

And then his phone buzzed. Once. Twice. A third time.

It wasn’t from you.

It was from Sae.

He didn’t expect much. Maybe a snide remark. Maybe something work-related, though that was rare. They didn’t talk often, not unless they had to. But this wasn’t that. This was something else.

 Sae [7:42 p.m.]: you should really tell your girlfriend to check the backseat next time. Sae [7:42 p.m.]: she left her earrings again. Sae [7:43 p.m.]: unless you want to return them yourself?

Rin stared at the screen.

The room went still.

He didn’t move. His breath slowed. The lights felt too bright, the air too quiet, the words on his phone too sharp to be real.

But they were.

And then, just as his thumb hovered over the delete button, like some desperate part of him could still pretend it hadn’t happened, another message came in.

Sae [7:44 p.m.]: you ever wonder if she moaned your name on purpose? or if she just felt guilty? either way, she didn’t stop me.

The message sat there, glowing.

Rin didn’t respond.

He didn’t throw his phone. He didn’t scream. He didn’t storm out or pace or punch a wall.

He just sat there.

It wasn’t hard to know you’d show up. You always did, eventually.

You knocked just after nine. Three short taps. You always knocked like you didn’t want to wake a sleeping house, like you still thought this was a home.

Rin opened the door without saying a word.

And when he saw you, lip gloss freshly applied, jacket draped over your shoulders like a distraction, eyes wide and a little nervous, he thought, for a moment, that maybe you’d lie. Maybe you’d try.

“Hey,” you said softly.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t lean in. Didn’t reach for your hand.

He stepped back without a word and let you walk inside.

The living room looked the same. But it felt different. Like the walls knew what you’d done.

“I got your text,” you started, voice light, like this was just a check-in. “You okay? You’ve been... distant.”

He poured himself a glass of water.

“You left your earrings,” he said quietly.

You blinked. “What?”

“In his car.”

The words hit like a blade, dull but deep. Your breath stilled.

You looked at him. At the glass in his hand. At the tremor in his jaw.

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You shut your mouth.

“I saw everything,” he said. “The texts. The time stamps. The goddamn details.”

Silence swallowed the room whole.

Rin didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t curse. Didn’t call you names.

He just looked at you like he didn’t recognize the person standing in front of him anymore.

“How long?” he asked.

You opened your mouth.

“Don’t give me ‘it just happened,’” he said. “Tell me the truth.”

You hesitated. “A few times.”

His face didn’t move. But something behind his eyes flickered, then went cold.

“Was it just sex?” he asked.

You nodded.

He stared.

You blinked, then shook your head, correcting yourself with a breathless whisper: “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Your voice cracked. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Rin. I didn’t plan it. I didn’t want—”

“But you did.” He took a step closer, water forgotten in his hand. “You let him touch you. You let him have you. And then you came home to me. Again. And again.”

Tears burned the edges of your vision. You tried to speak, tried to explain, but the words died somewhere in your throat.

“I thought you loved me,” he said.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, eyes glassy. “You don’t destroy someone you love.”

And just like that, something in him cracked. Just beneath the surface. You couldn’t see it, but you felt it.

He looked down, then took a deep breath. “Was I not enough?”

“You were,” you whispered.

“Then why him?”

Because he was colder. Because he made you feel dirty. Because he didn’t love you back and that made it easier. Because when Sae looked at you, he never saw the version of yourself that had to be perfect.

But you didn’t say any of that.

Instead, you whispered, “I don’t know.”

Rin closed his eyes. Just for a second.

When he opened them again, they were hollow.

“You should go.”

“Rin—”

“Please,” he said, and this time, his voice did shake. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

You stood frozen in the doorway, hands curled around your sleeves like a child.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he said.

You turned. Slowly. Every step toward the door felt like a funeral march. Not loud. Not chaotic. Just heavy.

The door clicked shut behind you.

And Rin, left alone, set the glass of water down on the table beside the couch. He stared at it for a long time.

He didn’t cry until he smelled your perfume still lingering in the air.

Didn’t cry until he realized he was trying to memorize it.

Didn’t cry until he thought:

It should’ve been me.

You should’ve wanted me.

[angelholic1]

Secrets ⋆˙⟡ ⤷ You cheat on your boyfriend, Rin Itoshi with his own brother. Evil, don't you think? pairing : sae itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, angst? smut, cheating, conflict A/ N : i wrote this based off my frat gojo fic but switched it up with sae and rin this time. same messy cheating energy, just with a different kind of tension :p ( i feel evil bc a guy pmo )

The night had started like any other, polished and pristine, steeped in curated elegance and quiet pressure. The kind of exclusive afterparty Rin usually hated. But he’d come for you.

And you? You had shown up in velvet and red lipstick, every inch of you sculpted to perfection. Rin’s hand had found yours as you entered the suite, his fingers laced through yours like a silent claim. He didn’t say much, he never did, but you knew what he meant in the way he held you just tight enough, like someone afraid of being forgotten.

But he had work calls. A quick check-in with his coach. Something unavoidable, he muttered in your ear before disappearing to the balcony. "Ten minutes," he promised. You smiled, nodded, kissed his cheek.

You didn’t see him again for forty-five.

But someone else found you.

Sae Itoshi had always been a complication you refused to name. All cool detachment and quiet cruelty wrapped in a body made for sin. He was everything Rin wasn’t, older, sharper, wicked in ways you couldn’t admit you liked.

And he had been watching you all night.

You’d felt his gaze before you turned. The burn of it at your back. The way your skin tingled as if it knew something you didn’t yet.

“Left you alone already?” Sae’s voice was low, smooth, barely heard over the music but somehow deafening.

You should have walked away.

You should have smiled politely, said something dismissive, loyal.

But you didn’t.

You turned toward him, drink in hand, heart unsteady.

“It’s just a call,” you said, like it meant something. Like it was enough.

Sae stepped closer, violating your space like it was his by birthright. He looked down at you, eyes heavy with something dangerous. “He always leaves you waiting.”

Your breath caught. Not from fear, from the way he looked at you like he already knew how the story would end.

“That’s not fair,” you murmured, though you didn’t believe it.

“Fair?” Sae tilted his head, a cruel curve of a smirk twitching at his lips. “No one here plays fair.”

You were standing apart, and the next his hand was on your waist, sliding low, deliberate. Your spine hit the wall behind you, and Sae leaned in, not touching, not yet, but close enough for your pulse to roar in your ears.

“You don’t even look at him like that,” he said. Voice soft. Accusing.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to be ruined.”

Your lips parted, breath shuddering. “Sae…”

He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Say it again.”

“This is wrong,” you whispered instead.

“And yet you’re not stopping me.”

You hated how right he was. Hated the part of you that had been waiting for this moment, nursing this hunger in the quiet, pretending it didn’t exist every time you looked at Rin and saw his brother instead.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.

His mouth claimed yours with practiced cruelty, all heat and teeth and restrained power. You gasped, one hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt, the other curling against the marble wall for balance. Sae didn’t touch you like he was sorry. He touched you like he had already won.

And you let him.

Your body betrayed you with every gasp, every whimper caught between your teeth. You should’ve thought of Rin, the boy who waited for you just feet away, the one who held your hand like a promise. But all you could think about was Sae’s hand on your thigh, the way his fingers knew how to pull the truth out of you, that you wanted him. Had always wanted him.

You pulled away first, lips swollen, breath ragged.

“This can’t happen again,” you said. A lie you hoped he’d believe.

Sae smiled, slow and knowing. “You said that before we even started.”

Your heart twisted. Shame clawed its way up your throat, but not enough to drown the thrill still buzzing in your veins. “If Rin finds out—”

“He won’t,” Sae said simply. “Not unless you tell him.”

You hated him for making it sound so easy.

“He’s your brother,” you breathed.

“He’s your boyfriend,” Sae replied. “And that didn’t stop you.”

You flinched. “You’re an asshole.”

He chuckled, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, slow and possessive. “Maybe. But you kissed me back.”

Silence stretched between you. The music from the party pulsed faintly in the background, too distant to interrupt the weight of what you’d done.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, voice barely audible.

Sae leaned in again, his lips brushing yours with terrifying tenderness. “Everything he thinks he owns.”

Your body burned. Your mind screamed.

And still… you didn’t say no.

You never did.

Your back hit the bedroom door the second it clicked shut.

You shouldn’t be here. Not with him. Not in this room that wasn't yours, in a house where Rin waited just down the hall, probably still on the phone, still trusting you.

But Sae didn’t give you time to think.

His mouth was on yours again before you could take another breath, and this time, it wasn’t a kiss.

It was a brand.

You whimpered into him, fingers grasping at his shirt as he pushed you backward, step by step, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. His hands were on your waist, your hips, your ass, gripping, kneading, possessive and hungry.

"You should tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips.

You didn’t.

He shoved the strap of your dress off your shoulder, and it fell like it had been waiting to be discarded. The silk pooled at your waist, exposing the lace of your bra, the soft curves he had only ever seen in passing, under summer tops, beneath sheets when he’d passed your open bedroom door.

"Fuck," Sae breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, mouth swollen. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?”

You should’ve said something.

Instead, you reached behind your back, unhooked your bra with trembling fingers, and let it fall to the floor.

Sae swore softly under his breath. His hands were on you immediately, warm palms cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing your chest in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

He watched every reaction with a terrifying calm, like he was learning you, memorizing what made you fall apart.

“You’re trembling,” he said, voice low, dangerously soft.

“You’re Rin’s brother,” you whispered, half-drunk on adrenaline, half-drunk on him.

He smirked. “And still, you’re here with me.”

Sae pushed you gently down, until your back hit the mattress. The air was cold against your skin, but his body followed, covering you, anchoring you. His mouth traced a path down your neck, over your chest, until his lips wrapped around your body and sucked slow, deliberate.

You cried out, fingers threading through his hair, holding him to you like he was your salvation.

And maybe he was.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t stop him when he tugged your dress fully down and off, leaving you bare beneath him. Exposed in every sense of the word.

“You’re soaked,” he muttered, dragging his fingers down between your thighs. “All this for me?”

He slid a finger through your folds, groaning when he felt just how wet you were. You whimpered as he pushed it in, slow, shallow, then added another, curling them deep inside you. Your hips jerked, your mouth falling open around a choked moan.

“Sae—”

“You sound better like this,” he said, voice dark, teasing. “Not pretending. Not holding back. Bet Rin doesn’t make you feel this way.”

He fucked you with his fingers, steady and unrelenting, watching your face twist with pleasure you had never let yourself feel before, not even with Rin.

And that was the worst part.

You were already gone.

Already ruined for anyone else.

When Sae finally undressed, it was with unhurried confidence, shirt lifted over his head, pants unzipped and shoved down, briefs following. He wasn’t gentle when he climbed over you again, caging your body with his own, the thick weight of his cock pressing against your thigh.

“You sure?” he asked, breath hot against your cheek.

You nodded.

But it wasn’t enough for him.

“Say it.”

“I want you,” you breathed. “Sae… I want you.”

And that was all he needed.

He pushed into you in one slow, devastating thrust, inch by inch, until he filled you completely. The stretch made your breath hitch, your body trembling as you clung to him.

Sae cursed under his breath, holding himself still inside you, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel too good. So fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders, and then he began to move, long, deep strokes that made your back arch off the mattress.

Every thrust felt like a betrayal. Every moan a confession. You clung to him like drowning, letting him fuck the truth out of you, that you’d thought of this before, dreamed about it in secret, hated yourself for wanting him but never stopped.

He grabbed your thigh and hooked it over his hip, driving deeper, harder, until the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall. The sound was obscene, but nothing compared to the wet slap of skin, the lewd whimpering gasps you couldn’t bite down.

You were close.

So close it hurt.

“You’ll do it for me,” Sae growled, lips brushing your ear. “Come on my cock, baby. Let him hear what he’s never made you feel.”

You shattered with a cry, your body locking around him, cunt clenching as your orgasm tore through you in waves. Sae groaned, hips stuttering, and then he was spilling into you with a low, broken curse, burying himself as deep as he could go.

The room went quiet. The only sound was your breathing, sharp, uneven.

You should’ve felt guilt.

Maybe you did.

But as Sae lay beside you, fingers still brushing your thigh, you didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

You just listened. Listened for the sound of Rin’s voice. Listened for footsteps down the hall. Listened for the moment everything would fall apart. But it never came.

Sae leaned in, pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and whispered, “He’ll never know.”

And you believed him. Because you needed to.

[angelholic1]

Multitasking 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ ⤷ You want his attention but all he cares about is his games pairing : nagi seishiro x female reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, degradation, gaming during sex, overstimulation, smut

The soft clack of buttons filled the room, punctuated by the wet, squelching sound of your body beneath him. Your cheek was pressed against his thigh, legs trembling, arms nearly numb from how long you'd been holding yourself up.

And Nagi, fucking Seishiro Nagi, didn’t even spare you a glance.

He sat comfortably on the couch, legs spread wide, controller in hand, the faint blue glow of the TV reflecting off his pale skin. You were splayed out in front of him on your knees, drooling around his cock like some cheap toy he forgot to put away.

And yet, when he shifted slightly to angle his hips better into your throat, he sighed like you were the inconvenience.

“Ah… don’t move, tsk,” he muttered lazily, thumb flicking the joystick. “Gonna ruin my streak.”

His game character landed a critical combo, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum, the kind of sound he never gave you unless he was winning or wanting you. You didn’t know which felt worse.

You gagged slightly as he pushed in deeper. His other hand rested heavy on your head, not guiding, not affectionate, just there. Like you were a pillow. A thing. An accessory to his relaxation.

“Still breathin’? Good girl.”

His voice dripped with boredom, but you heard the smirk under it. You wanted to slap him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to make him drop that fucking controller and look at you. See you.

But you also wanted him to finish. Needed it. Every inch of your body was thrumming with desperation, ignored for so long it had become a cruel ache. Your thighs were slick, your core empty, untouched, and yet you were being used.

Not fucked.

Used.

“Sei..I want your attention.”

“Shit,” he cursed when he got knocked back on screen, tightening his grip in your hair and thrusting a little rougher into your mouth. You choked around him, drool spilling down your chin, eyes watering. You thought, for a second, he might pause the game. Acknowledge you.

He didn’t.

“‘’M almost done with this boss,” he murmured, absently petting your head like some house pet. “Just be good for a few more minutes, yeah?”

His cock twitched, and you moaned around it, throat flexing. The vibration made his hips jolt.

“Tch… fuck. That’s cheating, y’know.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was smiling now. That smug, infuriatingly lazy smile. He liked when you were desperate. He liked knowing you’d sit here for hours if he told you to. That you’d take anything he gave, even if it was barely attention. Even if it hurt.

His game ended with a satisfying victory screen. He finally, finally looked down at you.

“M’ done now.”

You barely had time to pull off him, to catch your breath, when he hauled you up and onto his lap. Controller tossed aside. Game forgotten. Now that he was ready, you mattered.

His fingers dragged through the mess between your legs, huffing a little laugh.

“Damn. You got off on that?” he murmured, sliding two fingers in with no warning. You gasped, hips jolting.

“Pathetic.”

Your body betrayed you, clenching around his fingers like they were lifelines. You were so wet, so warm, so needy it made his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Bet you’d let me fuck you on stream,” he whispered, voice low, cruel. “All my followers hearing how slutty you sound when I don’t even touch you properly.”

You whimpered, bucking into his hand, and he clicked his tongue, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on your inner thigh.

“Get on.”

You obeyed without thinking, climbing onto his lap, sinking down onto him with a broken moan. He didn’t help. Just watched. Let you do all the work.

Your legs shook as you began to move, slow, dragging. His cock stretched you perfectly, filled you in a way that made your mind blank and your vision blur. But the whole time, the whole fucking time, he just leaned back, lazy smile on his lips, letting you ride him like some toy he found lying around.

“Feel good?” he asked, like it mattered. Like he didn’t already know.

You clenched around him. He groaned.

“God… you’re so fucking easy.”

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently, just enough to make your body tense, eyes widen. He pulled you down, lips brushing your ear.

“You’ll take whatever I give you, won’t you? Even when I’m playing games. Even when I forget you’re here.”

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He kissed them away, then finally, finally,  moved.

[angelholic1]

Please, I'm sorry ⋆.･࿔*: ⤷ After a big fight he say's he's sorry pairing : rin itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, clingy, smut

It’s been three hours since the fight.

You haven’t left the apartment, but you may as well have. You’re curled up on Rin’s bed with your back to the door. You haven’t moved except to blink. You haven’t spoken since you shut down.

Rin’s been pacing the living room. Every so often, he passes by the open doorway, glancing inside like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t.

You don’t even remember how it started.

It’s always the same, anyway. He says something cold, you snap back, and then the silence starts. But this time, something had felt final about it, like you were one sentence away from walking out for real. You didn’t. You didn’t even pack a bag. But you stopped talking, and to Rin, that’s worse than screaming.

By hour four, you hear the soft knock on the doorframe.

He’s quiet for a second, like he’s waiting to be told to fuck off. When you don’t answer, he comes in anyway.

“Baby…” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t spoken in a while.

You feel the mattress dip behind you, then the slow press of his body curling around yours, gentle and hesitant. His hand lands awkwardly at your hip, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you anymore.

“Talk to me, let’s fix this” he murmurs. “You don’t sleep when you’re mad at me.”

You don’t respond. But your breath shudders. That’s all he needs.

“I didn’t mean half the shit I said.” He swallows hard. “Probably more than half.”

Still nothing.

He buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapping around you from behind. It’s not smooth or confident, it’s desperate. Tight. His grip says please don’t go even though you never stood up.

“I get so—fucking scared,” he says, breath warm against your skin. “Of how much I feel for you..”

You shift, slightly.

“I thought I was better alone. I used to be proud of that.” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “But now? When you go quiet like this, it feels like I can’t breathe.”

Your chest tightens.

He presses his forehead to your back, voice breaking. “Please say something. Even if it’s to tell me I don’t deserve you.”

You slowly roll over to face him.

Rin freezes when you look at him, his eyes narrow. He’s not used to being vulnerable. Not used to being wrong.

“You act like I’m the one who’s going to break this,” you say finally. “But you’re the one always pushing me away.”

His throat bobs. He doesn’t argue. He just nods, shame flickering across his face.

You reach up and trace your fingers along his jaw, something tender, something tired. “Why do you make it so hard to love you?”

He was silent, Instantly. Easily. Like it’s something he didn’t know the answer to.

You blink.

He continues, softer. “I love you.”

Your breath catches.

And then, without another word, you lean in and kiss him.

It’s not rough or rushed. It’s soft. Quiet. Like both of you are afraid too much pressure will break it. Rin kisses you back like he’s grateful to still be allowed, like he’s terrified this will be the last time.

His hands move slowly, almost reverently. He pulls back to look at you, breathing heavily.

“I want to fix this,” he whispers. “I just don’t know how.”

“Then let me,” you whisper back.

You shift, carefully pushing him onto his back, straddling his waist. His breath stutters as he stares up at you, hair mussed, cheeks slightly flushed. He’s gorgeous and completely wrecked. Emotionally raw, hands clenched into the sheets like he’s scared to touch you first.

You slide your shirt over your head.

Rin’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly. “Are you sure—?”

“Do you want me?” you ask.

He looks stricken. “I always want you.”

“Then shut up and let me take care of you.”

His throat works as he nods quickly, his hands finally settling on your hips, fingertips trembling.

You sink down onto him, slowly, carefully, and the gasp he lets out is somewhere between a sob and a moan. His head falls back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut like it’s too much. Too good. Too emotional.

“F-fuck—” he whispers. “I don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t,” you whisper, riding him with slow, deep rolls of your hips. “But I want you anyway.”

A shudder rips through him. “You’re too good to me.”

“You’re pathetic,” you whisper against his ear. “Clinging to me like I’m the only thing keeping you alive.”

“I am,” he breathes. “You are.”

His hands slip under your thighs, gripping tight as if anchoring himself. He watches you move above him with such awe, like you’re some fever dream he’s scared will vanish.

“You look so pretty like this,” you murmur. “Falling apart for me.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers, like he’s never been talked to like that. Like it breaks something in him.

“I’ll do anything,” he says, voice rough. “Just don’t leave. Please. Don’t ever leave.”

“I didn’t leave,” you say gently, brushing his hair back. “I was right here. You just didn’t know how to reach me.”

He pulls you down, wrapping his arms around your back, burying his face in your neck. His hips stutter up into you, desperate now, chasing friction.

“You feel so good,” he gasps. “I could die like this.”

“You’re not dying,” you say. “You’re learning.”

And then, Rin freezes.

You think maybe he’s overwhelmed or something but then suddenly he flips you over, catching you by surprise. Your back hits the bed, and Rin looms over you, breath ragged, eyes wild.

“Don’t think this means you get to leave me,” he growls.

You blink, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t—”

“I’ll beg,” he snaps, grabbing your chin. “But I’ll never fucking let you go.”

And then he slams back into you, hard, fast, rough.

You cry out, hands clutching at the sheets as he fucks you like he’s reclaiming you. Like he needs to own you to believe you’re still his.

“You want to fix things?” he pants. “Then take it. Take everything.”

Your back arches, a broken moan escaping your lips as he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

“Say it,” he snarls. “Say you’re mine. Say you’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m yours—fuck—Rin, I’m not—”

“Louder.”

“I’m not leaving you!” you cry, eyes glassy. “I’m yours! I’m not leaving!”

“Good girl,” he growls, biting at your throat. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours—only yours—!”

He fucks you harder, possessive and wild, like every thrust is branding you.

“Beg for me,” he breathes. “Beg me not to let you go.”

“Please—please don’t let me go,” you whimper. “Please, Rin—”

“That’s right,” he growls, hips slamming into yours, your moans breaking into sobs. “Say it again.”

“Don’t let me go—don’t let me go, Rin—!”

He crashes his mouth onto yours, swallowing every cry, every plea, until he breaks with a groan and spills inside you. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, grinding into you until you’re shaking and gasping his name, clinging to him like you’re drowning.

“Can’t stop,” he whispers, mouth at your ear. “Need to feel you—need you to believe me.”

“I do,” you cry. “I believe you.”

And finally, finally, Rin stops.

He stays buried inside you, chest pressed to yours, his weight grounding you. His hands release your wrists and slide to your cheeks, cradling your face like you’re fragile. His breath is uneven, shaky.

“You don’t get to leave,” he says again, quieter now. “Even if I fuck this up. You stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, curling your fingers into his hair. “You’re stuck with me.”

His exhale breaks into something that almost sounds like relief. But not quite.

It’s going to take time. Work. He’ll fall apart again — but maybe next time, he’ll reach for you before it’s too late.

For now, though, Rin wraps his arms tight around you.

And you don’t let go.

[angelholic1]

Blow off steam 𓂃⋆.˚ ⤷ After a frustrating match, Michael Kaiser comes home wanting you pairing : michael kaiser x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, changed a bit of the plot, smut, degradation, idk what else..!

The door clicked shut behind him, not slammed, not thrown, just… closed.

You were curled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through social media. But the second Kaiser entered the apartment, everything in the room shifted. The silence went heavy, like a storm about to break.

He dropped his bag near the door and stood there for a second. Just breathing.

Still in his match-day kit, jersey clinging to sweat-slick skin, cleats undone but not removed, blond hair damp and falling into his eyes. You’d seen him like this before, fresh off the field, adrenaline still humming under his skin, but this time felt different.

He wasn’t smug. He wasn’t cocky.

He was… quiet.

“Hey,” you said softly, setting your phone aside. “You okay?”

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. He ran a hand through his hair, slow, almost shaky. His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked straight into the kitchen.

You followed.

He leaned against the counter with his back to you, head bowed. The muscles in his shoulders were drawn tight beneath the fabric. Tense. Angry.

“They were chanting Isagi’s name,” he said finally, voice flat.

You blinked. “What?”

“After I scored the winning goal,” he said, turning slightly. “Not mine. His. Like he mattered more.”

There it was. The crack.

You crossed the room carefully, your bare feet soft on the floor. “You played well, Kaiser. You were incredible.”

He didn’t respond, just grabbed a water bottle and twisted it open. He took a long sip, throat bobbing, before setting it down and facing you fully.

That’s when you saw it, right there in his eyes. Rage. Insecurity. That messy storm of arrogance and fragile ego that made Michael Kaiser who he was.

But behind it… something else.

Something raw.

Need.

“I shouldn’t give a fuck,” he muttered. “I know I’m better. I am better. But all I can think about is…”

His jaw clenched. He stepped toward you.

“All I can think about is you.”

Your breath caught.

Kaiser was right in front of you now, towering, flushed, fists clenched at his sides. His gaze dragged over your face like he was starving.

“I don’t want to talk,” he said. “I don’t want comfort. I don’t want a fucking talking to either.”

He leaned in close, voice a growl.

“I want you.”

You swallowed hard. “Then take me.”

“No,” he said, and you blinked.

His hand came up, gentle, trembling slightly, as he cupped your jaw.

“Let me have you,” he said, voice rough. “Just for tonight. Let me fuck this frustration out. Let me. Please.”

It was the please that undid you.

You nodded without hesitation. “I’m yours.”

Kaiser’s breath hitched, and then he moved.

Lips crashing into yours, tongue demanding entry, hands roaming with a hunger that made your head spin. He kissed like a man possessed, no finesse, no teasing, just heat, want and desperation.

He tugged at your shirt, growling when it resisted, before yanking it over your head in one aggressive pull.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking at you like he might lose his mind. “You’re so fucking pretty. Sitting here like this, soft and sweet, while I’m going insane.”

He kissed you again, messier this time, backing you toward the bedroom. You barely registered your steps before the backs of your knees hit the bed, and he shoved you down onto it.

He stood above you, stripping off his jersey and staring like he was trying to memorize you.

“You gonna let me be selfish?” he asked. “Let me blow steam off like the way I need to?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

He climbed over you, pinning your wrists down above your head. “Say it.”

“I'll let you do anything to me, I need it, Kaiser. Please.”

That broke him.

He attacked your throat with kisses, biting and licking and leaving angry red marks. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, dragging your panties down your legs.

“So wet already,” he muttered. “You like being my outlet, huh?”

“Yes.”

He groaned, dragging two fingers through your folds and pressing just enough to make your back arch. “So fucking needy. Dripping for me before I’ve even gotten started.”

You moaned when he slid a finger in, then a second. He curled them ruthlessly, watching your face twist with pleasure.

“I want this burned into your body,” he said. “Every time you feel sore tomorrow, I want you to remember why.”

“Kaiser—please—”

He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean with a smirk. “Begging already? I haven’t even ruined you yet.”

He freed his cock from his waistband, thick, flushed, leaking, and lined it up against your entrance. But instead of slamming in like he usually did, he paused.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice softer, but eyes still blazing.

“Yes. I want it. Want you.”

And with that, he pushed in, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch. He groaned low in his throat as your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “So tight. So fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, and he leaned over you, bracing on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck all this rage out,” he promised. “Gonna bury every doubt in your pussy and forget the whole world exists.”

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

You whined out with every thrust, your body bouncing beneath him as he drove into you like a man possessed.

“This is what I needed, not applause, not praise, just this. You.”

You moaned, clawing at his back, legs locking around his waist.

“God, you sound so good when you’re getting fucked,” he growled. “Look at you. Hair messy, face flushed, all for me.”

His hand found your throat and squeezed, not enough to hurt, just enough to control. Your head spun.

“You’re perfect for me,” he muttered. “Bet you love this, huh? Being used like this. It doesn’t mean anything after today”

You moaned helplessly. “Mm..I know”

[angelholic1]

Use me 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ ⤷ He's lazy, even during sex pairing : nagi seishiro x female reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, smut

Nagi barely lifted his head when you entered the living room.

He was sprawled out on the couch like a cat in the sun, long legs dangling off the edge, silver hair a messy tangle against the cushions, hoodie rumpled, shorts riding low on his hips. His phone lay abandoned on his chest, forgotten in favor of the blissful nothingness he seemed content to soak in.

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You’re hopeless," you said, unable to hide the fond amusement threading through your voice.

One lazy eye cracked open to look at you. Nagi didn’t even bother pretending to move.

"Walking over here's already too much work," he mumbled.

You snorted. "You're literally doing nothing."

"Exactly." A smirk tugged at his mouth. "Perfect way to spend the day."

You shook your head, pretending to be exasperated, but inside, you felt the usual pull toward him. It was ridiculous, how Nagi Seishiro could make your heart skip a beat without even trying. Without even moving.

Without thinking too hard about it, you crossed the room settling carefully on top of him, your knees straddling either side of his hips. A quiet hum of pleasure rumbled from his throat.

"Mm... that’s better," he said, voice low and pleased. His hands slid lazily up your thighs, stopping just under the hem of your shorts. His touch was light, maddeningly so, like he had all the time in the world.

You braced your hands on his chest. "You're not even gonna do anything?"

Nagi's eyelids drooped, his fingers making slow, featherlight circles against your bare skin. "Why would I? You came to me," he murmured. "Feels nice like this. Warm."

You flushed, not from embarrassment, but from the way his hands lingered, a teasing weight that made your stomach twist in anticipation.

He wasn't going to move. He was going to make you do all the work. And somehow, that was even hotter.

You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a slow, lazy kiss. He kissed you back without urgency, letting you set the pace lips soft, tongue slow and slick against yours. Every touch, every movement, was drawn out like he was savoring it.

You shifted against him, feeling the growing hardness beneath his shorts  and Nagi let out a low, lazy moan against your mouth, one that vibrated through your whole body.

"Mm... keep going," he whispered, breath hot against your lips. "Feels good."

You pulled back just enough to glare at him playfully. "You’re so lazy it’s actually impressive."

He chuckled, a deep, low sound, and let his hands fall back to the couch, surrendering completely. "Don’t wanna waste energy," he said, smirking. "Use me, baby."

God. The audacity.

But even worse, the way he said it, so casual, so shameless, made your stomach tighten with want.

You ground down against him more deliberately this time, drawing a lazy groan from his throat. His hips flexed instinctively under you, chasing the friction, but he still refused to really move, just letting you set the rhythm, letting you use him.

His eyes fluttered half-shut, his lips parting in soft pants. "Shit... Feels too good to move..."

You kissed down his jaw, his throat, his collarbone, slow, open-mouthed kisses that left his skin slick and shivering under your mouth. His heart beat wildly against your lips.

"Lazy boy," you teased in a whisper.

"Mm," he hummed, not even denying it. "Your problem now."

You smirked against his skin, then slid your hands under the hem of his hoodie, pushing it up slowly, exposing the lean muscles of his stomach, the soft heat of his skin.

He didn’t help. Of course not. He just lay there, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes.

You tugged the hoodie off eventually, throwing it to the side, and leaned back to admire him, hair messy, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide.

"So pretty," you murmured without thinking.

Nagi smiled, slow and a little smug. "I know."

You rolled your eyes and leaned down to kiss his chest, nipping gently at his skin. His abs tensed under your mouth, a quiet gasp escaping him.

You rocked your hips again, slower this time, teasing, and Nagi whimpered, low and broken. His hands finally lifted, just a little, to grip your hips loosely, guiding you with lazy rolls of his body.

"Ahh... Fuck..." he breathed. "You're killin' me..."

Good.

You slipped a hand between your bodies, sliding his shorts down low enough to free him, hard, heavy, twitching against his stomach. He didn't even help you get them off completely; he just groaned when the cool air hit his skin.

You slid your panties aside and lined yourself up with him, your body trembling with anticipation. Nagi’s head tipped back against the couch, throat bobbing as he swallowed down on his spit.

"Please..." he whispered, voice wrecked. "Just sit on it already, babe... Can't wait anymore..."

The desperation in his voice made your whole body throb. Slowly, so slowly, you sank down onto him, feeling him stretch and fill you inch by inch.

Nagi gasped, his hands gripping your hips tighter now, though he still barely moved, letting you take him, letting you sink onto him completely.

"Shit... shit..." he moaned, his voice breaking. "S'perfect... you're perfect..."

You stayed still for a moment, breathing hard, feeling him twitch inside you, so full, so deep, and Nagi whined, trying weakly to rock his hips.

"Move, please baby?" he begged, voice breathless. "Need you to..."

You smiled softly and started riding him slowly, savoring every second. Nagi’s hands slid up your back, under your shirt, clumsy and desperate. His head lolled back, his mouth open in helpless pleasure.

Every roll of your hips drew a broken sound from him and yourself soft gasps, lazy curses, breathy moans. His hands stayed on you, grounding him, but he never took control, letting you do what you wanted to him and exactly how you wanted it to be.

"You feel so good," he panted, eyes fluttering. "Fuck, you're so good..."

You leaned down to kiss him again, messy, panting kisses, your bodies moving together slow and sticky-sweet. The couch creaked under you, the air thick with heat, the lazy rhythm building higher and higher until you were both trembling.

Nagi's hands finally tightened at your waist, guiding you a little faster now, his breath stuttering.

"hmm..." he whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "Please... don't stop... need you..."

“Are you going to help me next time..? Please Sei..Can’t do everythin’ on my own.”“Hmm..maybe..”  he mumbled, voice slurred with exhaustion and bliss.

[angelholic1]

I need you ⋆.･࿔*: ⤷ Your needy for your boyfriend! pairing : rin itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, clingy reader, fluff? idk guys

It’s been a long, exhausting day for Rin Itoshi. After an intense soccer match earlier in the afternoon, he’s now settled into his room. The cool ambiance of his bedroom feels like a quiet refuge from the chaos of the game and the world outside. Rin’s lounging on his bed, his legs stretched out, casually scrolling through his phone. His eyes are sharp, but there's a noticeable weariness in his posture, he’s been working hard all day.

The soft lighting in the room adds to the calm vibe, and everything is quiet except for the occasional rustle of his phone and the faint hum of the air conditioning. He looks content, but there’s a subtle exhaustion behind his eyes, something that hints at how much he’s put into everything, soccer, school, and his image.

And then, of course, there’s you.

You’ve been hanging around the house all day, but as the evening settles in, you find yourself feeling clingier than usual. Rin’s presence is comforting, and you can’t help but want to be close to him after the chaotic day. You walk into his room, moving quietly as you approach his bed. Rin doesn’t notice at first, too absorbed in his phone.

When you reach his side, you don’t waste time. You crawl onto the bed and immediately curl up next to him, your head resting on his chest as you drape yourself over his side. Rin raises an eyebrow, glancing down at you with a hint of surprise but not moving away. He’s used to your clinginess, even if it takes him by surprise sometimes.

You let out a small whiny sigh, nuzzling into his chest as you pull the blanket over the two of you. “Rin, I’m so tired… Can we just cuddle for a bit?” Your voice is soft, almost pitiful, and you tighten your arms around him as if to make sure he doesn’t escape.

Rin smirks, but there’s a softness to his expression as he looks down at you. He hasn’t even replied yet, but already his arm moves to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. “You really are clingy today,” he says with a teasing tone, but there’s no malice behind it. He’s gotten used to it, and to be honest, he enjoys it more than he lets on.

You press your face into his chest, letting out a long sigh of contentment, your body feeling more at ease in his presence. “Mmm, I’m so tired… Feels like I can’t keep my eyes open,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Rin chuckles quietly, one hand brushing through your hair. “You’ve been whining for hours now,” he teases lightly. “You want me to put you to sleep or something?”

You nod against him, your arms tightening around him again, your eyes half-lidded from the fatigue. “Yes, please… I don’t want to move… just stay here,” you whine, your voice low and soft. You shift a little to find a more comfortable spot, your lips brushing over his chest briefly before you look up at him. “Please, Rin…”

There’s a small smile on Rin’s face as he hears you, and despite his usual calm, he can’t help but feel a little warmth inside from how needy and affectionate you are. You’ve always been like this, but it doesn’t annoy him. It’s one of the few times when he feels like he can really relax, when you’re not asking for something or needing him to be perfect.

He glances down at you again, his expression softening just a little. “You’re a handful, you know that?” he says in a half-amused, half-endearing tone, as his fingers gently trace patterns on your back.

Before you can respond, you lift your head and kiss him lightly on the chest, lingering there for a second. “Just kiss me… please,” you whine, your lips curling up slightly as you look at him, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your eyes.

Rin’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, but he doesn’t hesitate. His hand moves to gently cup your face, and his lips descend on yours in a slow, gentle kiss. It’s tender at first, a brief meeting of lips before he pulls back slightly to study your face, as if making sure you’re okay.

You nuzzle against him again, your lips barely brushing his as you sigh, “I just want to be close to you…”

Rin’s fingers play with your hair, and he responds with another kiss, this time deeper, more urgent, as if he’s giving you the comfort you crave. His lips press against yours with an intensity that shows he’s not just going through the motions. He pulls you even closer, wrapping both arms around you, the heat from his body mixing with yours as the kiss deepens.

You moan softly into his mouth, your hands slipping up to his neck to pull him closer. Rin’s breathing quickens, but he doesn’t pull away. His kiss grows more passionate, his lips moving against yours with a quiet but undeniable desire. He’s still calm, but there’s a depth to the kiss that’s rare for him, this moment where he can just let go of the outside world and be with you.

When he pulls back for air, his lips trail down your neck softly, and he murmurs, “You really are impossible…” His voice is hushed, but there’s a soft smile on his face, and his hands gently caress your back.

You giggle softly, your exhaustion melting away with the attention Rin’s giving you. “I’m just tired… and I need you.”

Rin nods, his hands rubbing small circles on your back as he pulls you back into his chest. “Fine, we’ll stay like this until you fall asleep,” he says, the faintest hint of affection in his tone.

You relax against him, content and feeling safe as he continues to play with your hair and kiss you all over. You both eventually drift off into a comfortable silence, your exhaustion forgotten in the warmth of Rin’s embrace.

[angelholic1]

Intoxication ‧ 𝄞₊˚⊹ ⤷ Geto is your boyfriend, everyone wants him but he picked you. However, you can’t help but want his bestfriend. pairing : satoru gojo x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, alcohol use, frat boy gojo! spoiled reader! cheating (reader is geto's gf)

The night had begun in a haze of glitter and laughter, the air thick with the heavy perfume of wealth and rebellion. It was supposed to be a celebration, a simple party of the most envied students on campus, where every drink poured and every whispered confession was another secret sewn into the school’s rich tapestry of scandal.

You were there, of course, radiant, spoiled, and perfectly composed, the very picture of a girl who had the world at her feet. Draped in designer silk, adorned in diamonds that caught the low light, you floated through the every room hall with the ease of someone who had never once needed to try. Beside you was Suguru Geto, the man everyone else wanted but who had chosen you. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his dark gaze heavy with quiet possessiveness.

And somewhere in the crowd, unmistakable even across a sea of bodies, stood Satoru Gojo.

Fraternity darling. Golden boy. Geto’s bestfriend. A hurricane wrapped in white hair and a cocky grin.

Gojo had always been a problem you carefully ignored. A temptation unspoken. You knew him as Geto's closest friend and, perhaps more damningly, as the only person who could crack your perfect composure without even trying.

The night blurred faster than you realized. Champagne overflowed in rooms arcs. Laughter became sharper, sloppier. Somewhere between the third and the fifth drink, Geto was dragged into another room, poker game in one of the side rooms, leaving you momentarily untethered and dangerously vulnerable.

It was Gojo who found you leaning against a marble pillar, a glass of something sweet and dangerous tilting in your hand.

"Abandoned so easily?" he drawled, his voice a low, lazy thing that brushed against your skin like velvet.

You should have brushed him off. Should have smiled politely, feigned boredom, and disappeared into the safety of the crowd.

Instead, perhaps out of a reckless boredom or the glittering burn of the alcohol humming in your veins, you let him stay.

He stood far too close, as always, as if personal space were a suggestion meant for lesser beings. His scent was sickening: a cocktail of expensive cologne and something inherently him, something wild and clean and infuriating.

Words turned into flirtations, veiled insults turned into soft laughs. It was not innocent, not truly, but you told yourself it was harmless.

Until it wasn’t.

You don’t quite remember how it began, a fleeting brush of fingers, a daring lean-in but you remember the way Gojo’s hand caught your wrist when you turned to leave, the way his mouth found yours with a heat that stole the breath from your lungs.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a single kiss to satisfy a dangerous curiosity.

But it was not brief.

And it was not innocent.

Your hands found the soft cotton of his shirt, clenching, pulling. His mouth was demanding, tasting of liquor and heat and something devastatingly sweet. He pressed you back against the pillar, his body pinning yours in a way that made your heart hammer against your ribs, a frantic, desperate thing. Every line of him was sin made flesh, strong, unrelenting, consuming.

You should have stopped. You should have remembered the man waiting for you in the next room, the one who trusted you, who would have torn the world apart for you.

But all you could think of was the way Gojo kissed like he was trying to claim something he had been denied for too long. The way your body betrayed you, responding to him with an urgency you had never allowed yourself to feel for anyone else.

The kiss deepened, darkened. There were hands where they should not have been. Breathless gasps. A low, broken sound you were ashamed to recognize as your own.

Neither of you spoke.

There was nothing to say.

The damage had been done a wound carved between you that would fester, a secret too shameful to name.

You had pulled away quickly, but your body still hummed with the memory of his lips on yours, and your breath came shallow, ragged. Gojo stood before you, chest heaving in the same frantic rhythm. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something far darker, a hunger that had been unleashed, one he wasn’t quite sure how to control.

He reached for you, but you took a step back, a cold wave of guilt crashing over you. Your fingers trembled, clutching the glass of champagne like a lifeline.

“We can’t—” you started, but your voice faltered. The words were fragile, hanging on the edge of something dangerous.

Gojo didn’t listen. He took another step closer, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made the air feel thick. "I want you, you know that, right?" His voice was soft, low, almost dangerous in its sincerity. “I’ve wanted you for so long… He doesn’t deserve you."

You shook your head, trying to step away further. “Satoru, this is a mistake. Geto can’t find out. He’ll—”

“—He’ll what?” Gojo interrupted, his tone edged with frustration. He reached out again, this time pulling you gently back toward him. His hands slid around your waist, his touch both possessive and tender. “I’m not asking for permission,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “I’m asking if you feel the same way I do. If you want this too.”

Your pulse quickened. You didn’t want to feel this way. You couldn’t. But everything in your body screamed that you did want him, wanted this connection, this unspoken desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

“Geto...” You whispered his name, but it came out weak, unsure. The guilt was eating at you, but you wanted Gojo. "He’s my boyfriend, Satoru. He trusts me."

Gojo chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your neck in a way that made your breath catch. “Trusts you? Or does he just control you? You don’t need to pretend with me, you know. I’ve seen it. He’s got you in a cage, and you hate it.” He slid his hands up your back, his fingers pressing into the soft fabric of your dress as if to reassure himself that you were real. "You think I don’t see how you look at me? How you look at us?"

You shivered, your hands gripping his shirt as your body betrayed you once again. You should pull away. You should tell him this is wrong, that you’re loyal, that Geto deserves better. But the truth was, the very man who claimed to love you seemed to want to keep you on a leash, while Satoru... Satoru made you feel alive and wanted.

“I—” You closed your eyes, the words a struggle. “Geto will never forgive me. He’ll hate me. I can’t—” The reality of what you were saying didn’t match the reality of what you were feeling. And Gojo seemed to know it.

“You can,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, coaxing you to open your eyes. His expression was raw, vulnerable, unlike the usual cocky mask he wore. “You don’t have to be perfect for him. You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not going to judge you, and I’m not going to walk away. I just want you.”

His words were like fire, igniting something deep within you. Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you thought it might burst. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t give in to him. But you were so tired. Tired of pretending to be what Geto wanted. Tired of pretending to be someone you weren’t, even when you were with him.

Gojo’s lips found yours again, soft but insistent, and for a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the kiss, into the promise of something more. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

But the reality of the situation hit you like a wave, and you pulled away, breathless and shaking. You put your hands on his chest, forcing yourself to keep some distance, though your body ached for the opposite.

“No. This—this is a mistake, Satoru. I can’t do this. Geto... he’s my everything. He’ll—” You broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but the hunger in his eyes didn’t fade. He looked at you like a man who had been starved, desperate for more, but still trying to find the right words. "I don’t care what Geto thinks, not anymore," he said, his voice low but firm. "You don’t need him to define you. You need me. I can give you everything he can’t."

The weight of his words hung between you, pressing down on your chest like an impossible choice. You wanted to resist. You wanted to step away, to cling to the fragile reality you had with Geto, but it was slipping through your fingers like sand.

“I’m not like you, Gojo,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill. “I can’t just walk away from him. I can’t... I can’t do this behind his back.”

Gojo cupped your face, his touch gentle despite the storm brewing between you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But we both know you want this, and I won’t stop. Not now. Not ever. He’s my bestfriend, he won’t know, unless you tell him”

His lips brushed against yours once more, a soft, lingering touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, torn between what was right and what felt too good to resist.

“Just—” You broke the kiss, pulling away slightly, your breath shaky. “Just promise me... promise me that if this happens... Geto will never know.”

Gojo didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes spoke for him.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered the only thing that truly mattered in that moment.

“I’ll never let him know.”

And just like that, the choice was made.

[angelholic1]

Jealousy ⋆˙⟡ ⤷ Your boyfriend and a news reporter come off as close and he doesn't think it's a problem pairing : sae itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, angst? a bit of smut, slight dubcon?

You sat on the bed, legs tucked to your chest, back pressed hard against the cold wall like it could shield you from the heavy ache gnawing at your stomach. The house was silent except for the occasional tick of the clock. Every second Sae wasn’t here made your mind spiral worse.

You'd seen it, the video spreading online. The reporter had been shameless, practically clinging to him during the interview, smiling too brightly, too intimately. and Sae... Sae hadn’t exactly stopped her. He hadn't done anything inappropriate, you knew that but he hadn't pushed her away either.

The sound of keys in the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Your whole body tensed.

Sae stepped inside, kicking his shoes off carelessly, tossing his gym bag by the door like he always did. His hair was messy, his jacket slung lazily over one shoulder, but his eyes, his sharp teal eyes went straight to you.

He stared for a long second, taking in your stiff posture, the way you refused to meet his gaze.

"Tch," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "You’re still pissed. Over that?"

You said nothing because if you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure what would come out. Anger, hurt, or something regretful.

Sae sighed, moving closer until he stood right at the edge of the bed. "It was an interview," he said flatly. "It’s her job. I didn’t even look at her."

You swallowed thickly, nails digging crescents into your palms. "Could’ve fooled me," you muttered under your breath.

The words hit their mark.

Sae’s jaw clenched. He dropped his jacket onto the floor and stepped between your curled-up legs without warning, caging you in against the wall. His hands planted on either side of your head.

"You’re overreacting," he said, voice low, almost cold. 

"You don’t trust me?"

You jerked your chin away, refusing to look at him.

For a second, it was dead silent between you, a thick, suffocating pause.

Then, Sae grabbed your chin, not rough but firm, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I don't give a damn about anyone else," he said. His thumb brushed slowly across your bottom lip. "Only you."

Your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.

You tried to pull back, tried to turn your face away again but Sae followed you, leaning in closer, closer, until his forehead brushed yours.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn't soft. It wasn’t tender. It was a kiss meant to overwhelm,  slow, deliberate, forcing you to feel him, to taste him. You whined in protest, trying to twist your head away, but Sae’s hand cradled the back of your neck, keeping you pinned against him.

He kissed you deeper, tongue sliding past your parted lips, ignoring the way your hands weakly pushed at his chest.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t. Not like this, not when you were still furious, still hurt.

But Sae kissed you like he could erase all of it, the anger, the doubt, the ugly jealousy eating you alive.

Your body betrayed you first. your hands stopped pushing and started clutching at his shirt, clinging without even realizing it.

When he felt your grip tighten, something low and satisfied rumbled from his chest. Sae pushed you back against the bed, following you down without breaking the kiss, his weight heavy and grounding on top of you.

"You’re mine," he murmured against your lips, voice rough. "Doesn’t matter who looks. You’re the only one I want. I promise"

You whimpered softly, the last of your resistance crumbling under the heat of his mouth, the press of his hips against yours.

He kissed you harder then biting at your lower lip until you gasped, then sliding his tongue back into your mouth like he owned it, like he owned you.

One hand slipped under your shirt, skimming hot up your ribs, making you shiver against him. You turned your head to the side, trying to catch your breath but Sae just kissed down your jawline, nipping at the sensitive skin there, breathing hard.

"You can be mad all you want," he muttered, voice dark and wrecked. "Still gonna remind you who you belong to."

Your thighs parted before you even realized it, letting him settle between them.

You hated yourself for how easily you melted, for how much you needed him even when you wanted to slap him, scream at him.

But Sae just kept kissing you, deeper, rougher. until you stopped thinking at all, lost in the way he touched you, the way he claimed you like no one else ever could.Your back arched instinctively as Sae's hand slid higher under your shirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just under your breast. His mouth was relentless trailing wet, bruising kisses down your neck, sucking a mark into your collarbone.

You whined, a soft pathetic sound you tried to swallow down.

He heard it anyway. He always heard everything.

"You don’t sound so mad now, just say you forgive me" Sae muttered against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His hand finally pushed your shirt up past your ribs, bunching the fabric high enough to expose your chest to the cool air.

You tried to twist away, shame prickling at the edges of your mind but Sae was faster. His body pinned yours down, his knee sliding between your thighs, spreading you open.

"You still gonna pretend you don’t want this?" he murmured.

You hated the way your body reacted, the way your hips bucked up slightly against him, searching for friction you didn’t want to admit you needed.

His mouth found your breast, tongue flicking lazily over your nipple before he closed his lips around it, sucking just hard enough to make your whole body jolt.

Your fingers tangled helplessly in his hair, tugging, not to pull him closer, but not really trying to push him away either.

Sae laughed low in his throat, a rough, dangerous sound. "You keep fighting, but you’re dripping," he said, voice dark with amusement. "You want me to stop? Huh?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight. You should say yes. You should shove him off. You should hold onto your anger.

But when his hand slid between your legs, cupping you through your thin shorts  you whimpered again, pressing into his touch without even meaning to.

Sae grinned against your skin.

"That's what I thought, can’t even speak, huh? " he whispered.

His fingers worked you expertly, teasing, rubbing slow circles that had your thighs shaking around him. Your hands clawed at his jacket, pulling him closer, desperate and embarrassed all at once.

When he slipped his hand inside your shorts, skin to skin, you gasped loudly, back arching.

"I shouldn’t even be giving you anything for how you’re acting," he said, almost in awe, like it physically pained him to hold back.

He kissed you again, not sweet, not gentle, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough. You whimpered against his mouth, hips grinding helplessly into his hand.

"Say it," he muttered, nipping at your lips. "Tell me you’re sorry."

You shook your head weakly, still clinging to that last scrap of stubborn pride.

Sae slid two fingers inside you without warning, making you choke on a cry. He swallowed it with another bruising kiss, thrusting his fingers slow and deep, curling them just right until you were squirming underneath him, clenching around him.

"Say it," he ordered again, voice rough, possessive.

You bit your lip hard, trying to hold it in but when his thumb brushed your clit and he fucked his fingers into you faster, your body betrayed you.

"I—I'm s-sorry," you gasped out, tears burning the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. "Sae—!"

That was all he needed.

He pulled his fingers out, dragging your shorts and panties fully down, roughly, discarding them onto the floor.

You barely had time to breathe before he was freeing himself from his sweats, shoving them down just enough.

He lined himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against your dripping entrance. You whimpered, grabbing at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Sae paused just for a second  forehead pressed against yours, breathing heavy.

"I’ll go slow," he rasped, voice strained. "I’ll take care of you. Even if you’re mad."

And then he pushed inside, slow, deep, stretching you inch by inch until you were gasping against his mouth.

He stayed buried to the hilt, letting you adjust, kissing your temple, your cheeks, your lips soft and rough all at once, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to wreck you or worship you.

"I don’t want anyone else," he said, hips grinding slow and deep. "I'm yours, you're mine."

And as much as you hated him in that moment hated how easy it was for him to tear down at you and your emotions, you clung to him, sobbing his name, letting him fuck every last bit of anger out of you.

[angelholic1]

Nothing without me ❀⋆.࿔*:･ ⤷ You hate that you need him, especially when he makes you feel so shitty about it

pairing : isagi yoichi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ

warning(s) : ooc? not edited, degradation

You’re not even sure how the fight started this time.

Something about you rolling your eyes at him , something about him always needing the last word. Now you’re pressed up against the wall of his room, long emptied out, the flickering light overhead giving the room a yellow haze.

“You’ve got a real mouth on you today,” Isagi mutters, voice low, dangerous. “But we both know you don’t actually mean any of that.”

You scoff, trying to pull away, but his hand is already on your waist, keeping you caged. It’s not rough. Not forceful. But firm enough that you know he’s not letting go.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you hiss.

He grins. That arrogant, infuriating grin that makes your blood boil for all the wrong reasons.

“Maybe,” he says, leaning in close, his forehead brushing yours. “But I get results. That’s more than I can say for you.”

Your nails dig into his chest, and he doesn’t flinch. If anything, he leans in closer, the space between you two nonexistent now.

“That's what this is about?” he asks, eyes half-lidded, voice thick. “You hate that I’m right. That you need me.”

“I don’t need you.”

His smile widens.

“Liar.”

You open your mouth to argue, but his hand slides up to your jaw, tilting your face toward his. His thumb drags across your cheek with maddening slowness. His breath is warm against your skin.

“You can keep pretending you’re above it,” he murmurs, tone almost gentle now, “but I see the way you look at me when no one else is watching.”

You shake your head, but he laughs, low and quiet.

“Pathetic,” he whispers. “Acting like you’ve got pride when you melt the second I touch you.”

Your breath catches. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and already your knees feel like they’re going to give out.

“You’re nothing without me,” he says. 

It should piss you off. It does piss you off. But the worst part is, he’s not wrong.

His lips brush yours,  not a kiss, not yet, just the threat of one. A warning.

“You gonna admit it?” he whispers.

Your voice comes out smaller than you want. “Admit what?”

“That you need me.”

You hesitate for one second too long.

And that’s all it takes for him to crush his mouth against yours,, like he’s been waiting for you to stop lying to yourself this whole time.

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and his grip tightens at your waist. He pulls you in like you belong to him. Like you’ve always belonged to him.

And maybe, in some twisted way, you do.

When he finally pulls away, your lips are swollen, your chest heaving.

He looks smug. He is smug.

“I knew it,” he says, brushing a thumb across your bottom lip. “Just a pretty little thing who falls apart for me.”

You hate how right he is.

You hate how much you want more.

[angelholic1]

Loyalty ❀⋆.࿔*:･ ⤷ Loyalty is a huge thing for you, when Isagi asks you to do something, you do it. However, can loyalty go further than it needs to be? pairing : isagi yoichi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, pressure to cross boundaries

The air in Isagi’s room is thick. Not with silence, but pressure.

He’s sitting on the floor, back against his bed, knees pulled up, shirt damp with sweat from the extra drills he did after practice. His phone screen still lit, replaying the same footage of the match over and over, his plays, his positioning, where he could’ve evolved more. His mind doesn’t stop.

You’re curled on the edge of the bed, watching him silently. You’d come over hoping to help him relax. But Isagi doesn't relax anymore. Not since he decided being good wasn’t enough.

You finally break the silence. “You did good, Yoichi. You were the best one out there.”

He doesn’t look up.

“I could’ve done more.”

You exhale slowly. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.” His voice is sharper now. “There’s always more. If I stop reaching for it, I lose.”

A pause.

Then his gaze lifts to meet yours and his eyes are dangerous. Hungry. “You know that a huge match is coming up for me right?”

Your brows raise. “Yeah.”

He leans his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling now. “I need to know what other players will do before they do it.”

You hesitate. “What are you asking?”

Isagi turns toward you again, his expression unreadable.

“Rin talks to you sometimes, right?”

Your stomach twists. “Barely. And only when he’s being weird.”

“But he talks,” Isagi presses. “Maybe you could ask a few things. Subtly. Like what kind of drills he’s doing. Or what he thinks about the lineup.”

You pause. “Isagi…”

He stands up slowly, walking toward you. There’s a tightness in his jaw, like asking this hurts, like he hates needing anything from anyone, even you.

But then he says it. Voice low, almost gentle. “Angel, please?” “You said you’d do anything for me.”

Your chest aches. You want to say no. That it’s dumb. That Rin will see right through you, and it’s not your job to spy.

But then you see the flicker of frustration in Isagi’s eyes, at himself. At the fact that even now, even after everything, he still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

So you nod.

“I know, Isagi. I’m sorry. I’ll do it.”

He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders for a split second. Then he sits beside you, pulling you into him, not tender, not romantic, but grounding. Like he just needs to feel you. That you're here. That you're his.

And then, quietly, almost without thinking, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

A silent thank you. A soft piece of him that hasn’t been burned away by ambition yet.

“I need to be the best,” he whispers, breath warm against your skin, “no matter what it takes.”

You nod again, even though your chest is heavy.

You’ll stand beside him. Even if the version of him you knew is fading.

And you’ll carry whatever weight he hands you. Because that’s what you said. You’d do anything for him. Even this.

[angelholic1]

Spoil me ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ⤷ You always stay. Is it because of his money or because you want to keep trying with him? pairing : reo mikage x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, manipulation and gaslighting? mild sexual content ( not rlly )

You’re halfway through ignoring your third call when there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

Your roommate pushes it open, eyebrows raised, arms full with an obnoxiously shiny silver box. “Another delivery,” she says flatly. “Guess who.”

Your stomach twists. You already know.

The card tied to the top is white, thick and expensive, with a gold script that’s as familiar as the voice that’s haunted your head since last night.

“Don’t be mad, princess. Come home.” Reo.

You don’t want to open it.

You do anyway.

Inside, a diamond bracelet glitters up at you like a soft apology, delicate, elegant, ridiculous. It's the exact one you said you loved weeks ago in passing. You didn’t think he remembered. You hate that he did.

Because now you're holding it like it means something. Like he means something.

Last night you told him you were done. That you weren’t going to let him buy his way out of another fight. But Reo Mikage always knew how to dazzle you just enough to distract you from how ugly things really were.

Your phone buzzes again.

This time, you grab your coat.

He opens the door for you like he expected you to cave.

He always does.

“You made good time,” he says, a smirk already creeping onto his lips as he steps aside to let you in.

You walk past him, straight to the center of the room, not speaking.

“You’re quiet,” he notes, watching you from behind. “Still mad?”

You turn slowly, the bracelet already on your wrist, shiny, tight, heavy, and damn pretty. “You think this fixes anything?”

He shrugs. “It’s not supposed to fix it. It’s supposed to remind you who you belong to.”

Your jaw clenches. “I’m not some object, Reo.”

“No. You’re mine.”

The words hit like a slap. You hate how calm he is, how easy it is for him to say it like it's a fact, not a threat.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you snap, voice rising. “You can’t screw up and then throw gifts at me like it erases everything.”

He steps closer, hands in his pockets like this is all some boring argument.

“I’m not throwing gifts at you,” he says smoothly. “I’m giving you what you deserve. You like nice things. I like giving them to you. I don’t see the problem.”

“You don’t see it—” You let out a soft sigh. “We’re not meant to be together anymore, Reo.”

He grins at that. Actually grins. “You say that like it's true.”

“It is true.”

“Then leave.”

His tone is sharp now but he knows you won’t leave him and you hate yourself for proving him right.

He closes the distance between you in one slow, practiced motion, his fingers curling gently around your chin. Tilting your face up.

“I missed you,” he says, voice low.

“You shouldn’t.”

“If you’re bad for me,” he murmurs, leaning in, “then I’ll just get worse.”

And god, he always knows what to say to ruin you.

Your lips meet like they always do, upset and desperate. It’s not sweet, it’s never sweet. His mouth claims you like property, and you let him, nails digging into his shirt like you’re holding on and trying to push him away at the same time.

By the time you two break the kiss, you’re dizzy, dizzy enough to forget why you were mad.

He leads you to the bedroom, silk sheets already pulled back like he’d been waiting. The lights are dim. The air smells like his cologne and the perfume he bought you last month.

You lay there, together, in silence.

The bracelet still gleams on your wrist.

Gift bags clutter the floor, Chanel, Cartier, Saint Laurent, all unopened. It's nothing but apologies and bribes.

Reo is beside you, scrolling through his phone like nothing happened. Like your not upset at all because of this.

“I hate this,” you whisper into the dark.

He doesn’t look up. “Hate what?”

“This,” you repeat. “Us.”

His hand reaches lazily for one of the bags. He pulls out a new necklace, emeralds and diamonds, cold and sparkling in the dim light. He dangles it in front of you like bait.

“Do you still hate it?” he asks.

Your lips part, but no words come.

“You can’t keep buying me,” you finally say, voice raw.

He glances at you, eyes cool. “Why not?”

You don’t answer.

Because he already knows the truth.

You always stay.

[angelholic1]

Information ✮ ⋆ ˙

hello!! I'm a new writer, but I've written before, just not on this blog. So all my work isn't out yet (or it's released on other accounts I own). I'm still learning how to write, and English isn’t my first language, please bear with me.

Mostly writing for bluelock but I'll do a bunch of other fandoms (anime, video-games, etc).

I take requests! I will try to complete all requests I receive, I don't really have any rules for what can be asked just be descriptive.

Carrd (About me/Info)

Bluelock Masterlist

Other links coming soon!

[angelholic1]

Bluelock masterlist ✮⋆˙

Nagi Seishiro :

Elimination

Use Me

Multitasking

Rin Itoshi : Study session

I need you

Please, I’m sorry

It should be me

Sae Itoshi : Please, don't leave

Jealousy

Secrets

Michael Kaiser : I love you

Blow off steam

Reo Mikage :

Spoil me

Isagi Yoichi :

Loyalty

Nothing without me

More coming soon! (I also take requests).

[angelholic1]

I love you 𓂃⋆.˚ ⤷ You know Kaiser is bad for you, he's a shitty boyfriend who does shitty things to people, so why do you need his love? pairing : michael kaiser x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, manipulation

Michael Kaiser was a manipulator. That’s just how he was. He has desires for control, addicted to it. On the field, in the locker room, in every conversation where he could size someone up and decide how to break them down. Take his teammate Ness, for example. Weak-willed. Eager. The kind of guy who'd crumble if you pushed just right. Kaiser figured him out in under a week and strung him along like a toy.

That's what he did best, found the cracks, and dug his fingers in.

And that’s exactly what he did to his girl.

You.

You weren’t a player, not in the world of football or anything remotely competitive. Just a girl. A little spoiled, a little too used to getting attention without asking for it. Pretty enough to be noticed. Dumb enough, emotionally, at least, and to think attention meant love. You liked shiny things, pretty words, and boys who said the right things in the right tone. That made you easy.

Easy to lure. Easy to keep.

“Girls like you always fall for someone like me,” he had said the first night he had you wrapped around his finger. “It’s almost too easy.”

And it was. You laughed, called him an asshole, but you liked it. Liked him. The confidence, the way he looked at you like you were already his, even before you were. That arrogance, it was magnetic. You didn’t realize that every touch, every compliment, every little moment he gave you was intentional.

It was a game. You were the prize. And once he had you, the rules changed.

“You don't need to wear that if I’m not around,” he said casually, not even looking up from his phone. “Unless you want guys looking at you.”

You blinked. Said it was just a dress.

He shrugged. “Yeah, and I'm just your boyfriend. Act like it.”

You adjusted your hem.

Little things, at first. Jokes that stung. Questions that didn’t sound like accusations, until they were. “You’re always on your phone when I’m not with you, should I be worried?” Haha, I’m kidding. But you still put your phone down. You started answering faster. Stopped talking to certain people. Just in case.

“You’re lucky,” he told you once, hand around your waist, fingers pressing into your hip. “I don't usually do relationships.”

He made it sound like a favor. Like he picked you out of everyone because you were special.

But you weren’t special.

You were just easy.

He didn't need to scream to control you. Didn't need to raise a hand. He used affection like a leash. Smiles, kisses, and just enough warmth to keep you crawling back whenever he went cold.

You started living for his approval. Dressing for it. Breathing for it. You used to have opinions, now you waited to hear his first, just to make sure you weren’t wrong.

Because Kaiser didn’t need to break you all at once.

He just needed to own you piece by piece.

[angelholic1]

Please, don't leave ⋆˙⟡ ⤷ in which, your boyfriend is planning to leave for Spain. pairing : sae itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : angst

You knew this day would come. He warned you from the start. Sae Itoshi never lied about who he was. A prodigy, a perfectionist. He has ambition written into every sharp line of his body and every silent pause between his words.

But no amount of mental preparation could make it hurt any less.

The suitcase sat near the door like a loaded gun. Just looking at it made your chest tighten. He was leaving. Tomorrow morning. For Spain and for good.

And tonight, he was still here. Still in the same room as you. Still pretending things weren’t about to change.

You hovered in the doorway of his room, watching him finish packing. Methodical. Efficient. Emotionless. It was the same way he played on the field—like every move had already been calculated ten steps ahead.

But you weren’t a game. You were someone he was supposed to love.

“Are you really doing this?” Your voice broke the silence, small and shaking.

He zipped the suitcase closed. “Yeah.”

That was it. No hesitation. No apology. Just that one syllable, flat and final.

You stepped inside, barefoot on the wooden floor, your arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “You said you weren’t sure.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, still not looking at you. “But I am now.”

“That fast?” You let out a laugh, bitter and raw. “What changed? The club offer? The money? Or did you just finally decide I wasn’t worth it?”

That made him look up. Sharp teal eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable in them. Not anger. Not sadness. Something in between.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Make this about you versus football.”

Your hands dropped from your waist, clenching at your sides. “I’m not trying to win against football, Sae. I’m just trying not to lose you.”

His lips parted slightly, but nothing came out. The silence hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

“I love you,” you said, stepping closer. “Isn’t that supposed to mean something?”

“It does.” His voice was low now. Quieter. “It means everything.”

“Then stay.”

His jaw tightened. “You know I can’t.”

“You can,” you insisted. “You just won’t.”

Another step. Now you were inches apart, the heat between your bodies sparking like a live wire.

“Don’t go,” you whispered, eyes glossy. “Please. Stay. Choose me, Sae.”

He looked at you like you were asking him to rip himself in two.

“I’ve worked for this since I was a kid,” he said, voice strained. “This isn’t just a job. It’s who I am.”

“And what am I?” You choked out. “A phase?”

His hands suddenly cupped your face, and his mouth crashed into yours.

You gasped, the tears still clinging to your lashes as he kissed you like he was drowning. Desperately. Fiercely. His lips were bruising against yours, tongue slipping past your lips like he needed to taste you one last time.

You clung to him, fingers fisting in his shirt, trying to memorize the way he felt—his scent, the warmth of his skin, the pressure of his body pressing you back toward the wall.

He kissed down your jaw, his breath ragged. “Don’t say I don’t love you,” he murmured into your skin. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Then don’t leave me,” you said again, breathless.

He stilled. One hand rested at your hip. The other lingered on your cheek.

And then… he pulled away.

Slow. Gentle. Final.

“I have to,” he said, barely above a whisper. “If I don’t do this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. And I can’t put that weight on you. Not now. Not ever.”

You could feel your heart breaking like a quiet crack down the center of your chest.

“You’re choosing yourself,” you said.

“For once, yeah.” He looked down, ashamed. “And I hope that someday… you’ll understand why.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have it in you.

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering like a promise he couldn’t keep.

“Wait for me,” he whispered.

Nothing he said made you feel better, at the end of the day you were alone.

[angelholic1]

Study session ⋆.･࿔*: ⤷ Your a brat. A spoiled one who thinks you can do what you please, this bothers rin and he wants to fix that attitude of yours pairing : rin itoshi x fem reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ warning(s) : ooc? not edited, brat taming? idk lol

Rin had been tutoring you for almost three weeks now, and already, you knew just how to get under his skin. He wasn’t easy to manipulate, hell, you barely even had a chance to make him react the way you wanted. He was a straight-laced, studious guy with a sharp, almost dismissive air about him. But there was something about the way he barely tolerated your presence that made the challenge so much sweeter. You lived for attention. And Rin, though he might act like he didn’t care, had all of yours.

Today, though, you weren’t going to be as obvious. You’d let him think you were trying, at least, at first.

You showed up early to his tutoring session, looking perfectly put together in a cute outfit. His gaze flickered over you as you sat down, not bothering to hide the slight roll of his eyes. You leaned back in your chair, feet crossed at the ankles, as you waited for him to get his notebook out.

He didn’t even ask if you were prepared. He knew you weren’t. You never were.

“Do you even want to pass this class?” he asked, his voice flat as he flipped through his notes.

You rolled your eyes, exaggerated for effect. “Obviously,” you muttered, twirling your pen in your fingers. “But you make it so boring. You don’t even try to make this fun.”

Rin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked at you—really looked at you—his eyes piercing and intense, before moving his gaze back to the paper in front of him.

“I’m here to teach you, not entertain you.”

“You’re no fun, Rinnie.” You pouted, letting your voice drop to a teasing tone, leaning forward so your chest barely brushed the table.

The way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know. Rin Itoshi was not the type to give in to temptation. Not the type to show weakness.

“Focus,” Rin said again, voice stern. “You’ve always distracted. We’re doing algebra today. Start with the first problem.”

You glanced at the worksheet he handed you, pretending to care, but your mind was already on other things. He sat across from you, looking so goddamn serious, his expression unreadable except for the occasional furrow of his brow.

He was everything you loved to toy with.

“Rinnie, do you ever loosen up? You’re so uptight. You must be miserable all the time,” you said sweetly, but your eyes were narrowed, studying his reaction.

Rin didn’t respond immediately, instead tapping his pen against the table in a rhythmic pattern. It was a game for him too. He was letting you test him, seeing how far you’d push.

“Maybe I like being miserable,” he replied, his voice cool, unbothered.

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, sure you do. You really are a hardass, huh? No one’s ever gotten to you before, right?”

“I think I’m here to help you get through your class, so you can pass.” His eyes flickered toward your sheet, the first sign of real focus on his part. “Which, for the record, is still a complete mess.”

You watched him, his neat, precise movements, the way he didn’t even break a sweat when he corrected your mistakes. You hated how damn good he was at everything. But what you hated even more?

How silent he was. How he didn’t try to bait you, didn’t react when you leaned over his shoulder and purposely brushed your lips against his ear as you “fixed” your mistakes.

You hated that he wasn’t fazed.

“I’m doing the best I can,” you said with a fake pout, leaning closer again. This time, your hand brushed his wrist. “It’s just so hard with you staring at me like that.”

Rin glanced at you, his eyes briefly hardening. He didn’t like how you made it seem so intentional, how you knew what you were doing. It irritated him in ways he couldn’t quite articulate. You were throwing him off his game, and he didn’t like that.

“You’re not trying,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he was gritting his teeth. “And I’m not here to babysit you. If you don’t care about this class, I’m not wasting my time.”

The harshness in his tone sent a small thrill through you. He was losing control. Finally.

You leaned forward again, smiling this time, genuine—no teasing, no sarcasm.

“Then I guess we’ll just see how long it takes before you can’t stand me anymore, huh?”

Now Rin wasn’t the kind of person who lost his temper easily during school or tutoring. He wasn’t prone to yelling or emotional outbursts. But you? You were different. You weren’t like anyone he’d ever encountered before. You didn’t just flirt or tease, you tested him. Pushed him to the edge, always trying to get a rise out of him, and it was starting to wear on him more than he cared to admit.

You were bratty. Spoiled. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him uncomfortable, to make him react. And somehow, it was working.

But Rin wasn’t one to back down, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let you think you could walk all over him.

“Do you ever listen? Focus,” he snapped, his voice sharper than before as he handed you the next set of problems. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with your games anymore. “I’m not here for no reason. If you keep wasting my time, I’ll walk out of this room. You can fail the class for all I care.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking as you leaned back in your chair again, arms crossed. “You’re really serious about this whole ‘tutor’ thing, aren’t you? Lighten up, Rinnie. It’s just math.”

“No, you’re not serious about this. You haven’t even tried to learn. You’re wasting both of our time,” Rin shot back, his voice colder now, more distant, like a wall coming up between you.

It didn’t faze you. In fact, it made you smile even more.

“You must be fun at parties. You need to relax, you know? You’ve been staring at me all day,” you purred, leaning forward again, just close enough that you could feel his body tense up, the subtle way his muscles tightened. “Maybe if you weren’t so uptight, I’d actually want to learn.”

His eyes narrowed. This time, there was no smirk on his lips. No amusement. Just a quiet, simmering frustration.

“Do you think that’s going to work?” Rin asked, his voice dangerously calm now, as he set his pen down and leaned in toward you, his gaze never leaving your face. “Because it’s not.”

You were taken aback for a moment. There was a slight shift in his demeanor. A slight flicker of something that felt... different. And you liked it. You leaned forward, eyes glinting with challenge, trying to provoke him further.

“Oh?” you drawled. “Then what are you going to do, Rinnie? You going to yell at me? Or maybe you’ll give up and walk out? Just like all the others do when I don’t give them what they want.”

Rin’s eyes didn’t waver. His gaze sharpened. “I’m not like everyone else. And you’re not going to get away with this. Not anymore.”

Before you could react, he suddenly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. He moved with quiet precision, stepping around to your side of the desk, towering over you.

For the first time, you felt a flicker of something you hadn’t expected. Intimidation.

Rin wasn’t looking at you with the same indifference anymore. His eyes were cold, and sharp. And when he spoke again, it wasn’t a suggestion.

“It’s about time you learned some discipline,” he muttered, his voice low, his tone all business. “You want me to let you get away with being a brat? You want to keep acting like nothing matters? Fine. But I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an involuntary shiver running down your spine. For the first time in this entire tutoring session, you felt... unsure. This wasn’t playful teasing anymore. There was something almost punitive in his gaze.

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, swallowing, your confidence starting to waver slightly.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he moved closer, his hand brushing over your shoulder in a way that felt far more deliberate than anything you’d experienced from him before. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body radiating off him, his presence all-consuming.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice no longer sweet or patient. It was firm, commanding.

You blinked at him, not sure if you were hearing him right. “What?”

“Up,” Rin repeated, voice hardening as he looked down at you, his stance more imposing. “Now.”

For a moment, you froze. You weren’t used to being ordered around. Not like this. But something in his eyes—the intensity of it—made you hesitate. You slowly stood, feeling the nerves crawl up your spine as Rin continued to stare at you.

“Good,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to your now standing form. You didn’t know what he was planning, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipation that coursed through you. Rin’s presence was consuming, suffocating in the best way.

Then, without warning, Rin moved swiftly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you gently but firmly toward him. “You’re going to get this shit done, and you’re going to do it right,” he said, the dominance in his voice clear now. “You don’t get to waste my time anymore. You’re going to learn. Or I’m done.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had never seen Rin like this. So… decisive. So in control. And it felt like something was shifting between you both, like the game you had been playing had just leveled up.

You swallowed, meeting his gaze, but this time, you didn’t smile. You didn’t tease. Something about the way he was looking at you made you want to obey. To prove you could be good. To prove you could handle his intensity.

“Understood?” he asked, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The bratty defiance that had been your shield before seemed like nothing more than a distant memory now, replaced by something that felt like surrender.

Rin Itoshi had finally stopped tolerating you. He was taking control, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to resist or let him take you further into his world of discipline.

But either way, it was clear, this wasn’t going to be easy for you anymore.