forestlv4r

[forestlv4r]

PIERCE THE VEIN C.kamo x Fem!Reader (oneshot!)

Synopsis: you impulsively enter a piercing shop after specifically being told not to, but is it fate to meet your soulmate? or is it karma for not listening?

Warnings: mentions of death, smutty, fluff, cocky choso, dom!choso, angst if you squint, readers mom is lowkey abusive, mentions of needles and blood, reader gets physically hit, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 7.5K (insane)

“No y/n! You’re not getting your damn nipples pierced!” your mother yelled, frustrated as she ran a hand through her hair.

“Oh come onnn! It's not that big a deal— not like anyone will see it!” you argue back, attempting to justify your sudden idea.

“No! And that's final. If you get it I swear to god you’re not stepping a foot into this house again, y/n.” she yells, slamming her hands on the table as she gets up to walk away.

You let out a dramatic huff as you pout and cross your arms across your chest. For gods sake you’re twenty years old now— why do you have to ask for permission for anything anymore? 

That's when the ridiculous idea pops up into your head. What if you just do it? Not like she's going to check your nipples to see if you actually went along with it or not? All you have to do is be careful around the choice of clothing around her.

You get up as you grab your car keys and head out the door, a cunning smirk forming on your face as you search the nearest piercing shop to your house. You find one that's 20 minutes away, good reviews, and oh— a hot piercer. 

Your smirk stretches into something sinister as you speed out of your driveway and onto the road. Blasting the loudest metal music your playlist could offer, cars honking at you for your reckless driving, you speed past nonetheless.

Your relationship with your mother wasn't always the best. Ever since you were a kid you’ve been into metal music, darker clothes— and once you became a teenager, you had your gothic “emo phase” as your mom would say. yet it never was a phase. Your skimpy outfits and darker hair always made her argue with you over stupid shit— and to her, your style was ‘demonic’ and you’ll never find ‘a respectful young man’ with that attitude. Part of the reason she was always like this was because it reminded her of your dad who passed when you were younger, he was always into metal and a darker style of clothing, even went as far as having a band with his best buddies— which obviously ended after his death. And the moment she realized you picked up after him— and even getting the same piercing set up on your face and ears like him. Your snake bites, nose and eyebrows pierced just like him— she got hurt too deep to keep her temper sane around you, often lashing out on you, also because you got them all without asking but that's besides the point.

The whole reason she was even angry today was because of your choice of clothing. An off-shoulder knit crochet mesh sweater, with a white bra underneath— peaking through the holes of the sweater, and really short-black jean shorts.

Once she heard you stomping your little black boots out the door she called you out, which brought you to the initial conversation of getting your nipples pierced, you weren't even planning on asking her to get them had she asked where you were going dressed like that.

—

Nonetheless, you pull up to the shop, the black designs and gothic style catching your eyes immediately— deciding to fix your hair and makeup just in case you meet the piercer that was in the photos of the reviews. As if that will matter like he's not literally going to see your bare chest ten minutes from now. 

Entering the shop, the adrenaline is rushing through your veins, the bell at the door rings as you enter— the cold breeze giving you goosebumps as it contrasts the heat outside right now. 

“Hey, welcome to the eternal lines shop, how can I hel-” a deep husky voice cuts through the music playing on the speakers. 

“Oh— welcome” the mysterious man clears his throat and speaks again. 

He stood behind a small cashier table at the entrance, clearly over 6’0 tall, black inked designs flowing across his arms and forearms. Eyebrows and snake bite piercings shining their metal under the warm light above him. His black shirt holding on for dear life as his biceps push at the limits of the sleeves.

“Oh cool, we have the same piercings!” you enthusiastically claim as you lean both your arms on the counter he stood behind.

“Y-yeah we do” he blushes.

“Anyway! I would love to get a piercing today” you exclaim.

“Yeah, sure. What piercing are we thinkin’” he questions.

you slyly smile before speaking, looking him deep in the eyes.

“My nipples pierced.” you low-key say.

His cheeks flush a light shade of pink as he speaks—

“Uhm. yeah,sure. I— I just need you to sign this consent form— and also need an ID to confirm you’re over 18” he manages to spit out.

“Okay great!” you jump up.

“Here’s my ID and gimme the consent form!” you beam at him. Making his heartbeat go a thousand beats her second.

“Great, just have a seat and I'll call you when it's time.” he eyes you back, as you walk away to sit on the couch in the seating area.

“y/n huh.” he thinks to himself as he confirms your age on the ID. his dark purple eyes watching you as you read all the information on the consent form.

He walks around the counter up to you handing you your ID.

“Here ya’ go sweets. Lets go on back and we can get started” he speaks, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards at the way you blush from the name.

—

“You can go ahead and take ya top off while i go and grab the supplies” the tall man says as he walks out and shutting the room door behind him.

You huff to yourself as your anxiety sets in and him being unbearably attractive doesn't make it any better. What if you embarrass yourself in front of him? Well, yeah you saw his photo before even walking in— but oh god he looked so much better in person. His black hair falling over his forehead, short strands falling along his shoulder.

You brush off all your odd thoughts as you begin to undress, deciding to just take the sweater off and leaving the bra on until he comes back.

You settle yourself on the chair and lie down as you wait for his return.

Once he returns you begin to unclasp your bra, his narrow eyes watch you and your movements shake from the adrenaline and mainly because of his eyes watch you.

“Need help there?” he asks, offering you a sweet smile.

“Yea— please” you glance at him.

His hands move gently, his knuckles brush across the skin of your back— giving you goosebumps as he unclasps the bra like he's done this a million times before.

You chuckle to yourself at how quickly he does it— until he speaks.

“What's so funny, princess?” he smirks at you

“You unclasped that bra like you’re a professional at it” you giggle to yourself before suddenly stopping and realizing what you just said.

“Oh my god— I didn't mean to say that. I'm so— so sorry i—” you frantically explain, while holding up your bra at the same time as it threatens to fall off.

He chuckles at the way to frantically explain yourself before he speaks.

“It’s aight’ princess, it was funny” he chuckles as he begins to sterilise the needle.

“C’mon princess, take it off” he points to the bra.

“Yeah— right.” you awkwardly chuckle as you pull the bra off your chest, your plump tits spill out as your nipples pebble quickly from the cold air.

The pink blush on both of your faces increases by the second, but he nonetheless keeps it professional as he begins to clean off the area on your chest.

You gasp at the cold cotton being rubbed along your nipples, his large cold hands finding home at the bottom of your chest as he cups the swollen skin.

“Alright, take a deep breath for me okay?” he says— lining up the needle at the first nipple.

“A—alright” you breathe in, squeezing your eyes shut.

A silent whimper escapes your mouth as he pushes the needle in through the skin,

“Aaalright, breathe out princess” he says as he hooks the jewellery through and twists it shut.

You let out a long breath, lowly chuckling to yourself as you realize you really did this.

“See? Not that bad huh?” he says and he begins the same process for the other nipple.

“Yeah, it's not that bad” you chuckle.

—

After both of the piercings were complete you were starting to put your bra back on when he stopped you as he grabbed your wrists.

“Oh, you can't wear that right now” he lets you know.

“Oh— i uhm— dont have anything else right now” you speak, the sound of stress lining with your voice. “I need to wear something under this sweater I can't just walk out with my boobs out” you lightly chuckle as you awkwardly look at him.

“You can take my hoodie— I don't mind” he smiles back at you as he walks out for a moment before returning with a black hoodie. “Here” he says, handing it out to you.

“Oh! Thank you! I’ll be sure to return it, I promise!” you enthusiastically say before grabbing it from his hands, your fingers lightly brushing his hand as you take it and zip up the large hoodie half way through. The contour of your tits showing.

“Yeah— no problem dont worry— looks better on you anyway princess” he winks at you before heading out the door leaving you blushing like crazy in the room alone.

You head to the counter to pay as he returns behind it.

“Dont worry ‘bout payin’ princess” he says as he bags a small bottle of cleaning solution to hand to you.

“What— no way I have to pay,” you say, going into your purse as you rummage through to find your wallet.

"m’ not allowin’ it doll.” he says as he chuckles.

“Dude— at least let me pay for the cleaning solution” you say.

“Nope— just promise me you’ll return that hoodie yeah?” he says as he smirks.

“Fine. I'll drop by tomorrow” you say, giving him a slight smirk.

“My names’ choso by the way— choso kamo.” he winks at you before walking to the back as he disappears.

The blush creeps up to the tips of your ears, leaving your skin heated as you walk out of the shop. Just as you make it to your car the musky smell of his perfume settles into your nose and fills up the car from his hoodie, gosh he smells heavenly.

—

The next day you woke up for some reason feeling excited to drive back to the shop. The anticipation of 

Seeing choso again, even if it's just for a few minutes makes your heart pound faster and your skin heat up.

Getting ready to go back made you feel like Cassie from euphoria, waking up early to do your everything shower, doing your hair and makeup and picking out the best outfit to perfectly show off your newly pierced wonders.

As you finally applied your lip gloss before heading out of your room, you grabbed the hoodie that still has his smell lingering on it, it was all folded up and ironed perfectly to give it to him back.

Heading downstairs without your mom seeing you was the difficult part, the white basically seethrough— tank top was showing off your piercing perfectly, at your last minute decision you decided to wear the hoodie just until you got past your mother and into the car.

“Y/n. Where are you going?” Your mom stops you just as you are at the end of the stairs. “And who’s hoodie is that?” She questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“Going out to meet some friends ma, i’ll be back soon wont take long” you roll your eyes as you attempt to grab your keys from the hook next to her and the door.

“You didn't answer my other question y/n.” She repeats sternly. 

"Holy crap mom, it's my friend's hoodie. I just borrowed it cus i was cold” you said annoyedly.

Before she could get another word in you leave the house not before you grab your keys.

The drive there you were excited to just see him one last time, feeling and looking your best you park your car and start walking towards the shop.

The bell at the door rings one more time as you walk through, he wasn't at the counter at the entrance— assuming he's in the back you sit as you wait for him at the same couch you did yesterday.

Not long after his tall presence fills the room as he walks back from being in the other room.

“Oh— hey princess, so eager to see me already?” he slyly says as he notices that you still have his hoodie on. “Still wearing my hoodie i see” 

“Oh this— I had to wear it to hide the piercing from my mom lemme just—” you say as you take off the hoodie. Your piercings are placed on display from how thin the layer of cotton is on your chest.

You attempt to hand him the hoodie back, but before you could even take your arms out the sleeves he grabs your wrists and pulls you in close. 

You yelp as he pulls you in, his breathing is so close to your face, the gum in his mouth giving him a minty breath— your free arm grabs onto his shirt for balance.

“You gon’ walk around with that skimpy ol’ top princess?” he speaks.

“I— i just wanted to give you your hoodie back and go home i—” you utter.

“Put the damn hoodie back on, doll” he speaks as he lets your hands free.

“Come back later when you have a more covered up shirt on princess” he speaks.

“Oh? Really? Or are you just making up excuses to keep seeing me?” you cock an eyebrow at him, the shoulders of the hoodie falling off yours now.

“Hmm, maybe” he smirks. 

“Maybe you should just ask me out then, don't be so cheap choso kamo” you smirk back— you have no idea where the sudden change of attitude came from or how you gained so much confidence to talk to him like this, but you like the power.

“Then go out with me doll” he walks behind the counter, leaning his chin in his palm.

“Hmm, I'll think about it— you know, so many dates planned” you say shrugging.

“You think you’re hilarious princess?” He stands up straight.

“Very— now ask me properly or I'm walking out of here with my wonders out” you cockly speak.

He lets out a sigh before repeating;

“Miss y/n, would you like to go out with me on friday to a nice restaurant across the street” he formally speaks, finishing off the question with a bow and grabbing your hands to kiss.

You giggle at his antics as you speak.

“Okay fine”

“Perfect, i already have your number from the consent form, i’ll text you details” he speaks.

“Oh wow stalker behavior” you chuckle. 

“Only for you” he winks as you walk out the door giggling to yourself.

—

Friday evening rolls around quicker than you expected. You’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time, the nervous flutter in your chest refusing to leave. Your phone buzzes.

Choso: I’m outside, doll. Don’t keep me waiting too long or I’ll assume you stood me up. You: Relax, stalker— I’ll be down in a second.

You grab your bag, slip into your shoes, just as you’re about to head out the door your mom stops you. 

“Did you get the fucking piercing when i specifically told you not to!?” she yelled.

“What— what the fuck are you talking about—” you argue back.

“I saw the jewellery and the cleaning solution! I told you not to fucking get it— but no! You have to be disobedient and go against my fucking word!” she screamed at you as she landed a hand on your face.

Your world stops. Face red and stinging— your ears start to ring.

“Get out of the fucking house now!” she yelled once more.

You run up the stairs as you go into your room and start packing whatever you can into your bag. The tears flowing down your face non-stop. Fuck, you forgot about choso.

You check your phone to see multiple missed calls and texts from him;

“Hey you comin’ down soon?”

“Hello?”

“Alright i get it, its cool”

“Coulda’ just said you didn’t wanna go. You didn't have to waste my time.”

The tears suddenly start to follow even harder one after the other. You attempt to call him multiple times but the call keeps going into voice mail— deciding that you have bigger issues at hand right now, you send a single text to him.

“Im sorry. Just got into an argument with my mom— got kicked out. Hope u can understand” 

You leave your phone on your bed and continue to pack whatever you could— as soon as you finish you look around your room for the last time. Spotting the hoodie choso gave you on your desk chair, you grab it and put it on— considering the fact that it's late at night and might be cold.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, hoodie drowning your frame, and tiptoe down the stairs. Your chest feels heavy, every breath shaky as the front door creaks open. The night air hits you cold, making your skin sting against the heat of your tears.

But then—

“Y/n.”

Your heart stops. He’s there. Leaning against his car, arms crossed, brows furrowed. His phone’s still in his hand, screen lit up with your name. He pushes off the car immediately when he sees your swollen eyes and the bag in your hand.

“Choso—” you whisper, throat raw.

“Don’t.” His voice is low but firm, and in two strides he’s in front of you, gently taking the bag off your shoulder. “Don’t apologize.”

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling. “I-I didn’t mean to ruin tonight, I just— she—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His hand cups your face, carefully avoiding the side that’s still red, thumb brushing against your damp cheek. His jaw clenches at the sight of you. “She hit you?”

Your silence is enough of an answer. He curses under his breath, shaking his head before pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap tight around you, one hand on the back of your head, holding you steady as you shake against him.

“You’re not staying anywhere else,” he mutters into your hair, voice steady, certain. “You’re coming with me.”

You try to protest weakly, “Choso, I— I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can,” he cuts you off, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are softer now, but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You’re not going anywhere else. I don’t care what you say. You’re staying with me.”

He wipes your cheek with his thumb, then gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not taking no for an answer, doll.”

You swallow hard, staring at him. For the first time tonight, you feel safe—anchored. The fight drains out of you.

Without another word, he guides you to the car, opening the passenger door and setting your bag in the back. Once you’re inside, he leans down a little, his gaze locking with yours.

“You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. Just… breathe. I’ve got you.”

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. His hand finds yours on the console, fingers lacing together as though to remind you he’s there. Every time you wipe at your tears, he squeezes your hand tighter.

When you finally pull up to his apartment building, he parks, gets out, and grabs your bag before you can even reach for it. “Come on, Let’s get you inside.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand all the way to the elevator.

And for the first time that night, you don’t feel so alone.

He walks you up to his apartment, fancy hallway and warm lights catch your eye as you walk along with him.

Your heart is thumping a million beats per second— is this a bad idea? Should you really be staying with a stranger you met two days ago? You don't even know his past, future, anything!

All your thoughts and anxiety get pushed further down as he guides you inside his home. 

You get greeted with a clean apartment, warm lights cast a shadow across the furniture, the large windows display the city’s night sky and tall buildings, giving you a sense of home you’ve never felt before while living with your mom.

“Im gonna put your bags in the room— i have a guest room dont worry” he gently speaks as he walks into one of the rooms in the hallway and places your bags inside.

You stand frozen in the middle of his living room, arms wrapped around yourself as if to shield from the leftover sting of tonight. Your fingers tighten on the edges of his hoodie, inhaling that musky scent that somehow settles the storm in your chest.

Choso walks back into the room, his dark eyes immediately finding you. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as if he’s studying you—not in the way that makes you shrink, but in a way that feels like he’s trying to read every piece of you.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You blink, caught off guard. “…Hungry?”

“Yeah. Food.” His lips twitch into a small smile. “It’s what normal people do after getting kicked out and almost stood up on a date.”

You can’t help the shaky laugh that slips out. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, pushing off the doorframe and heading into the kitchen. “C’mon, princess. Sit down before you pass out on my floor.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You follow him, letting yourself sink onto a stool at his counter. The kitchen is warm, the faint scent of spices lingering. He moves around with ease, pulling open cabinets, grabbing things from the fridge. He doesn’t ask you what you want—just starts cooking. Somehow, that feels nicer than having to choose.

You rest your chin on your hand, watching him. “You cook?”

He shoots you a glance over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I’m not just good with needles, doll.”

Your cheeks heat immediately at the implication, and you swat at the counter like that’ll hide it. “You’re so cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, turning back to the stove.

The silence that settles is comfortable. The sizzle of food in the pan fills the room, and for the first time tonight, your chest doesn’t ache.

When he finally sets a plate in front of you, you blink down at it in surprise. “This looks… really good.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He sits across from you, resting his elbows on the counter. “Eat.”

You take a tentative bite, then immediately hum in approval. “Okay, fine. I’m impressed.”

He leans back, satisfied. “Good.”

For a while, the two of you eat quietly. Every so often, your eyes flick up to find him already watching you, and you quickly look back down, pretending to focus on your plate.

When you finally set your fork down, your stomach full, the weight of the day crashes back down. Your shoulders slump, eyes stinging again. You hate that the tears threaten to spill again so easily.

Choso notices. He always seems to notice.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as he reaches across the counter, brushing his fingers against the back of your hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t look like the world’s ending.”

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze. “I… I don’t know where else to go. I don’t even know if I should be here—”

“You should.” His tone sharpens, firm in a way that pins you in place. “You think I’d let you leave after what happened? No way.”

The lump in your throat grows. “But I’m just… dumping all of this on you. And you don’t even really know me.”

“I know enough,” he says simply. “Enough to know I don’t wanna see you walk out that door alone.”

Your chest tightens. You bite your lip, trying to blink away the tears.

He stands, walking around the counter. Without asking, he gently takes your hand, guiding you off the stool and into his chest. The hug is strong, steady—his warmth wrapping around you like a shield.

“Stay here. Stay as long as you need,” he murmurs into your hair.

You grip his shirt, nodding against him. For the first time in years, maybe ever, you feel like someone’s choosing you—without hesitation.

Choso pulls back just enough to look down at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb again. His voice lowers, almost a whisper.

“You’re safe here, I promise.”

And in that moment, standing in his arms with the city lights glowing through his windows—you believe him.

—

The first thing you notice when you wake up isn’t the bed—it’s the smell. Coffee, warm and bitter, drifting through the apartment. You blink your eyes open slowly, sitting up in the guest bed. The sheets are soft, the kind of softness you don’t get at home, and the hoodie you fell asleep in still smells like him.

For a moment, you forget everything. Forget the fight, the slap, the yelling. For once, your chest doesn’t feel so heavy.

Until you hear his voice.

“Morning, princess.”

You jump, turning to see him leaning against the doorframe, mug in hand. His hair’s messy, still damp at the ends from a shower, clinging to his neck. The plain black sweatpants and loose shirt shouldn’t look as good as they do on him, but of course, he pulls it off.

“Morning,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. “You didn’t have to—”

“Already made breakfast,” he cuts you off, smirking into his mug. “Get up before it gets cold.”

You shuffle out of bed, tugging down the hoodie to cover more of your legs as you pad barefoot into the kitchen. On the counter: toast, eggs, and fruit—simple, but perfect.

“You cook again?” you tease, sliding onto the stool.

“Told you I’m not just good with needles,” he fires back easily, setting his mug down as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, biting into the toast. 

He watches you eat with that same quiet intensity he always has, like he’s memorizing you. After a moment, his lips twitch.

“You’re cute when you just wake up.”

You choke a little on your toast, smacking his arm when he laughs. “Shut up” you mumble.

But your cheeks burn, and he notices. Of course he notices.

—

You spend the day together in small, easy ways—watching a dumb movie, arguing over playlists, him teasing you when you steal his hoodie again because it’s “way too comfortable to give back.” By the time evening rolls around, your nerves kick in.

You’re in front of his bathroom mirror, adjusting your outfit for what feels like the hundredth time. The thin straps of your dress keep sliding down your shoulders, and your lip gloss suddenly looks too shiny.

“You ready in there, doll?” his voice calls through the door.

You stare at yourself, heart thumping. This isn’t just crashing at his place anymore. This is real. A date.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

He’s waiting in the hall, black button-up rolled to his forearms, silver chain at his neck catching the light. When his eyes land on you, he freezes.

“…Damn.”

“What?” you frown, suddenly self-conscious.

“You look…” He shakes his head slightly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Like you’re tryna kill me, doll.”

You bite back a smile, heat flooding your cheeks. “Shut up and let’s go.”

The restaurant across the street is warm and low-lit, the kind of place where the hum of other conversations makes you feel private. He pulls your chair out for you—mocking your surprised look with a wink—then sits across from you, leaning back casually but with his eyes always on you.

The conversation flows easier than you expected. Between bites of food, he tells you stories about stupid things he and his brother did when they were younger. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and he just sits there, grinning like he could watch you laugh forever.

At one point, his hand brushes over yours on the table. You freeze, but he doesn’t move it away—just curls his fingers around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

By the end of dinner, you’re flushed from more than just being full.

Walking back across the street, the city lights glow against the dark, buzzing faintly in the air. You hug his hoodie tighter around yourself—it’s way too big for you, but it feels like safety.

The walk back to his apartment is quiet—comfortable, but charged. His hand is still in yours, thumb lazily dragging across your skin with every step. It shouldn’t make your chest feel this tight, but it does.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity. He stands close, too close, his scent wrapping around you until your knees feel weak. He doesn’t touch you—not yet—but his eyes burn holes into the side of your face.

By the time he unlocks the apartment door and lets you in, your pulse is already racing. You slip off your shoes, tossing your purse over the couch, but before you can turn around—

His hand catches your wrist.

You gasp, stumbling as he pulls you back against his chest. His breath is hot against your ear, his voice low, teasing:

“You have any idea what you did to me tonight, princess?”

Your throat dries instantly. “I—what are you—”

He tugs your chin back so you’re forced to look up at him. His smirk is sharp, dangerous. “You sit there lookin’ at me all night in that little dress, laughin’ like you know exactly what you’re doin’ to me… and then you expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

Your body jolts when his other hand trails down, brushing over your hip, gripping it hard. The warmth of his palm seeps right through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Choso…” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What, doll?” His lips ghost over your jaw, deliberately avoiding your mouth, teasing you until you’re practically vibrating with need. “You want me to stop?”

You can’t even lie. You shake your head desperately. “N-no.”

That’s all it takes.

The teasing snaps.

He crashes his mouth onto yours, the kiss deep, messy, hungry. You whimper against him as his tongue slides against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you exactly where he wants you. The heat between your thighs pulses, and you grab at his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

He pulls back just long enough to murmur against your lips—

“Good.”

You barely have time to breathe before he’s hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He carries you down the hall with ease, mouth never leaving yours, until your back hits the wall outside his bedroom. The impact knocks a moan out of you, swallowed instantly by his kiss.

“Fuck—” he groans against your lips, grinding you against the hard length pressing up beneath his zipper. “You feel that, doll? That’s what you did to me sittin’ there lookin’ so goddamn pretty.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you whine, your dress riding up higher on your thighs. His hand slips under the hem, rough fingers squeezing at your bare skin.

“Say you want it,” he growls, lips dragging down to your neck. “Say it, doll.”

“I—fuck—want it,” you gasp, tilting your head back as his teeth scrape along your pulse point. “I want you, Choso.”

The sound he makes is low and guttural, like he’s been waiting to hear that all night. His mouth moves lower, lips brushing the swell of your chest through the neckline of your dress.

“Then you’re gonna get it,” he promises, voice dark, sending a shiver straight through you.

His mouth is everywhere—hot, messy kisses down your throat, biting hard enough to leave bruises, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you’ll feel it tomorrow. You don’t even make it to the bed before he spins, throwing you onto it with ease. The mattress bounces under you, and you’re scrambling to sit up when he’s already over you, his knee pressing between your legs, forcing them apart.

“Take this off,” he orders, tugging at your dress. His voice is low, sharp—commanding.

Your hands fumble with the straps, but he growls in frustration, gripping the fabric and yanking it down in one rough motion until it’s pooling around your waist. Your bra follows just as quickly, unclasped with the same skill he’d shown in the shop.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark as they rake over your chest. His thumb brushes over the glint of metal in your nipples, and your whole body jerks. “Still sore, princess?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, heat flooding through you.

“Good.” His smirk is wicked as he dips his head, dragging his tongue over one pierced bud, sucking hard until you cry out. The sting, the heat, the wet suction—it’s almost unbearable, and you’re arching into him shamelessly, nails digging into his shoulders.

But he doesn’t linger. He pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, already working at the buttons of his shirt. His movements are impatient, rough. The shirt’s gone in seconds, then his belt clinks open, jeans shoved down just far enough for his cock to spring free—thick, flushed, leaking.

Your breath catches. “Choso—”

“Shh.” He leans down, kissing you hard, his hand shoving your panties aside in one swift motion. His fingers drag through your slick folds, and he groans into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Been wantin’ this all night, huh?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough for him.

“Say it,” he demands, pressing two thick fingers inside you without warning, making you gasp. “Tell me you wanted it.”

“I—I wanted it,” you whimper, back arching as he curls his fingers just right. “Fuck, I wanted you so bad.”

That does it.

He pulls his hand back, slick fingers wrapping around his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, holding you down against the mattress.

“This pussy is mine now, princess,” he growls, his tip nudging at your entrance before he slams in all at once, burying himself to the hilt.

You scream—loud, shameless—your walls stretching around him, the sudden fullness making your head spin.

“Fuck—so tight,” he grits out, forehead pressed against yours as he grinds deep. “Takin’ me so good.”

Then he starts moving.

Hard, fast thrusts that make the bed slam into the wall, your body bouncing beneath him. Each drag of his cock pulls a broken moan from your throat, your legs wrapping tight around his waist to keep him inside.

He fucks you like he’s starved for it, like he can’t get deep enough, rough groans spilling against your mouth every time you clench around him.

“Look at you,” he pants, pulling back just enough to see your face, flushed and wrecked. “Already falling apart on my cock.”

Your nails claw down his back as he pounds into you harder, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, your cries filling the air.

“Choso—fuck—gonna—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?” He smirks, snapping his hips harder, faster, until your vision blurs. “Do it, doll. Cum on my cock. Show me who you belong to.”

The command shatters you. Your climax rips through you, white-hot, your whole body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on him so tight he nearly loses it, groaning loud into your ear as he thrusts through your orgasm.

“Shit—fuck—gonna fill you up,” he growls, his rhythm faltering. One last slam of his hips and he’s spilling inside you, cock twitching deep as his warmth floods you.

The bed is shaking, the sheets twisted, your body trembling beneath him as he finally stills. He drops his forehead to your chest, panting hard, sweat dripping down his temple.

For a long moment, the only sound is your heavy breathing. His grip on your wrists loosens, and he finally releases you, brushing his fingers over your sore skin.

Then, voice rough but soft, he murmurs:

“Told you, doll. You’re mine now.”

Your body’s still trembling when he finally pulls out, his cum spilling hot between your thighs. The sudden emptiness makes you whimper, but he’s already leaning down to kiss you—slower this time, tender, nothing like the way he devoured you minutes ago.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “You did so good for me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your chest still heaving. “I can barely feel my legs.”

That earns a quiet smirk from him, but instead of teasing, he slips off the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the faucet run, then he’s back with a warm, damp towel in hand.

“Spread ‘em for me,” he says softly—not a command this time, just a gentle request.

You obey, still dazed, and he kneels at the edge of the bed. The sight of him there—broad shoulders hunched, hair falling into his face as he carefully cleans you up—makes your heart clench in a way rough sex never could.

His touch is slow, careful, wiping away the mess with deliberate gentleness. He glances up at you once, checking your expression. “Not too sore?”

“A little,” you admit, voice small.

He hums low in his throat, finishing his task before tossing the towel aside. Then he climbs back onto the bed, pulling the sheets over both of you. His arms slide around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers. “Need you close.”

You melt instantly, tucking your face into the warm skin of his neck. His hand strokes lazily down your back, soothing the ache in your muscles. For a long time, you just lay there in silence, your breathing syncing with his.

Then, almost too quiet to hear, he murmurs:

“Didn’t hurt you, right? Tell me if I was too rough.”

Your chest tightens at how sincere he sounds. You lift your head just enough to look at him, eyes soft. “You were perfect, Choso. I liked it.”

The relief on his face is subtle but real. He leans in, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before settling back against the pillows.

“Good,” he says, his voice rumbling against your cheek. “’Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

And with his arms around you, the last thing you feel before sleep pulls you under is safe.

—

Sunlight creeps through the blinds, spilling across the sheets in pale stripes. The first thing you register is warmth—the heavy weight of an arm draped over your waist, a chest pressed snug against your back. The second thing is his breathing, slow and steady, tickling against your shoulder.

“Mm,” Choso hums, voice still thick with sleep. His arm tightens around you as you shift. “Don’t move.”

You chuckle softly. “You’re heavy.”

“Deal with it,” he mumbles into your skin, planting a lazy kiss on the curve of your shoulder. His voice is rough, low in that way that makes your stomach flutter. “Too comfortable.”

You try to roll over, but he only drags you closer, practically wrapping his whole body around you like a human furnace.

“Choso, I need water—”

“Later,” he interrupts, eyes still shut, nose buried in your hair. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You laugh quietly, reaching back to poke his side. “You’re clingy in the morning.”

He finally opens one eye, giving you a flat look that only makes you smile wider. “And what about it?” he mutters. “You’re mine. I’m allowed.”

Your face heats, the memory of last night flashing hot through your body. He notices, of course—smirking, smug even while half-asleep.

“Yeah, I remember too,” he drawls, hand slipping under the hem of the blanket to squeeze your thigh. “Might have to remind you again before breakfast.”

You swat at his chest, laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

He catches your hand easily, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. The tease fades from his face for just a moment, leaving something softer, quieter.

“…Seriously though,” he murmurs, eyes locking with yours. “Waking up with you here feels good.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his tone, and for once, you don’t deflect. You just smile, tucking your head against his chest as his arms close around you again.

“Feels good for me too.”

“Hey, listen. Wanna take y’out tonight, got somethin’ special planned” he speaks, peppering soft kisses along your cheeks.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling, “where you takin’ me” you ask. 

“Dont worry bout’ it doll. Just dress nice” 

—

The night air is warm, carrying the faint hum of the city. You don’t know where he’s taking you—he’s been annoyingly cryptic all day, just telling you to “dress nice” with that sly little grin of his.

When he finally stops walking, you realize he’s led you to the edge of the river. Lanterns line the path, their soft glow reflecting on the water like stars fallen from the sky. A blanket is spread out in the grass, a small box of takeout sitting in the middle, along with two cups of boba.

You blink at the setup. “Wait—did you… plan this?”

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking boyish despite the usual sharpness in his eyes. “Yeah. I, uh… wanted tonight to be just us. No noise. No distractions.”

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you sit down on the blanket. “This is… actually really sweet, Choso.”

He smirks faintly, but there’s a nervous edge to it. He sits across from you, handing you your favorite boba order without you even asking. “I pay attention, y’know.”

The two of you eat, laugh, and talk until the food’s gone, the city quieting around you. At some point, he shifts closer, his hand brushing yours in the grass.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, voice lower now.

You glance at him, curious. “Of course.”

He exhales, eyes flicking down to where your hands nearly touch. “…I don’t really do this. Relationships. All this soft shit.” He chuckles awkwardly. “But you… you’ve got me doing things I never thought I’d care about. Thinking about you when I wake up, planning dumb little dates like this—”

You feel your heart hammer in your chest as he finally turns fully toward you, his usual composure stripped away. There’s no teasing smirk now—just sincerity.

“So what I’m asking is…” His hand finds yours at last, fingers threading carefully through yours. “Would you let me be your boyfriend?”

The question hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way you’ve never heard from him.

Your breath catches, but the answer is already on your lips. “Yes.”

His whole body relaxes, the relief clear in his smile as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips—gentle, lingering, full of the tenderness he just confessed.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan on letting you go.”

a/n: can u tell i gave up towards the end😭 ALSO this is totally inspired by me getting all my ear piercings behind my moms back 😛 my fresh piercing started bleeding in the middle of me writing this lmao. hope u enjoyed tho reblogs and kudos are MUCH appreciated, and pls suggest ideas to me in my ask box <3

[forestlv4r]

PIERCE THE VEIN C.kamo x Fem!Reader (oneshot!)

Synopsis: you impulsively enter a piercing shop after specifically being told not to, but is it fate to meet your soulmate? or is it karma for not listening?

Warnings: mentions of death, smutty, fluff, cocky choso, dom!choso, angst if you squint, readers mom is lowkey abusive, mentions of needles and blood, reader gets physically hit, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 7.5K (insane)

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

“No y/n! You’re not getting your damn nipples pierced!” your mother yelled, frustrated as she ran a hand through her hair.

“Oh come onnn! It's not that big a deal— not like anyone will see it!” you argue back, attempting to justify your sudden idea.

“No! And that's final. If you get it I swear to god you’re not stepping a foot into this house again, y/n.” she yells, slamming her hands on the table as she gets up to walk away.

You let out a dramatic huff as you pout and cross your arms across your chest. For gods sake you’re twenty years old now— why do you have to ask for permission for anything anymore? 

That's when the ridiculous idea pops up into your head. What if you just do it? Not like she's going to check your nipples to see if you actually went along with it or not? All you have to do is be careful around the choice of clothing around her.

You get up as you grab your car keys and head out the door, a cunning smirk forming on your face as you search the nearest piercing shop to your house. You find one that's 20 minutes away, good reviews, and oh— a hot piercer. 

Your smirk stretches into something sinister as you speed out of your driveway and onto the road. Blasting the loudest metal music your playlist could offer, cars honking at you for your reckless driving, you speed past nonetheless.

Your relationship with your mother wasn't always the best. Ever since you were a kid you’ve been into metal music, darker clothes— and once you became a teenager, you had your gothic “emo phase” as your mom would say. yet it never was a phase. Your skimpy outfits and darker hair always made her argue with you over stupid shit— and to her, your style was ‘demonic’ and you’ll never find ‘a respectful young man’ with that attitude. Part of the reason she was always like this was because it reminded her of your dad who passed when you were younger, he was always into metal and a darker style of clothing, even went as far as having a band with his best buddies— which obviously ended after his death. And the moment she realized you picked up after him— and even getting the same piercing set up on your face and ears like him. Your snake bites, nose and eyebrows pierced just like him— she got hurt too deep to keep her temper sane around you, often lashing out on you, also because you got them all without asking but that's besides the point.

The whole reason she was even angry today was because of your choice of clothing. An off-shoulder knit crochet mesh sweater, with a white bra underneath— peaking through the holes of the sweater, and really short-black jean shorts.

Once she heard you stomping your little black boots out the door she called you out, which brought you to the initial conversation of getting your nipples pierced, you weren't even planning on asking her to get them had she asked where you were going dressed like that.

—

Nonetheless, you pull up to the shop, the black designs and gothic style catching your eyes immediately— deciding to fix your hair and makeup just in case you meet the piercer that was in the photos of the reviews. As if that will matter like he's not literally going to see your bare chest ten minutes from now. 

Entering the shop, the adrenaline is rushing through your veins, the bell at the door rings as you enter— the cold breeze giving you goosebumps as it contrasts the heat outside right now. 

“Hey, welcome to the eternal lines shop, how can I hel-” a deep husky voice cuts through the music playing on the speakers. 

“Oh— welcome” the mysterious man clears his throat and speaks again. 

He stood behind a small cashier table at the entrance, clearly over 6’0 tall, black inked designs flowing across his arms and forearms. Eyebrows and snake bite piercings shining their metal under the warm light above him. His black shirt holding on for dear life as his biceps push at the limits of the sleeves.

“Oh cool, we have the same piercings!” you enthusiastically claim as you lean both your arms on the counter he stood behind.

“Y-yeah we do” he blushes.

“Anyway! I would love to get a piercing today” you exclaim.

“Yeah, sure. What piercing are we thinkin’” he questions.

you slyly smile before speaking, looking him deep in the eyes.

“My nipples pierced.” you low-key say.

His cheeks flush a light shade of pink as he speaks—

“Uhm. yeah,sure. I— I just need you to sign this consent form— and also need an ID to confirm you’re over 18” he manages to spit out.

“Okay great!” you jump up.

“Here’s my ID and gimme the consent form!” you beam at him. Making his heartbeat go a thousand beats her second.

“Great, just have a seat and I'll call you when it's time.” he eyes you back, as you walk away to sit on the couch in the seating area.

“y/n huh.” he thinks to himself as he confirms your age on the ID. his dark purple eyes watching you as you read all the information on the consent form.

He walks around the counter up to you handing you your ID.

“Here ya’ go sweets. Lets go on back and we can get started” he speaks, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards at the way you blush from the name.

—

“You can go ahead and take ya top off while i go and grab the supplies” the tall man says as he walks out and shutting the room door behind him.

You huff to yourself as your anxiety sets in and him being unbearably attractive doesn't make it any better. What if you embarrass yourself in front of him? Well, yeah you saw his photo before even walking in— but oh god he looked so much better in person. His black hair falling over his forehead, short strands falling along his shoulder.

You brush off all your odd thoughts as you begin to undress, deciding to just take the sweater off and leaving the bra on until he comes back.

You settle yourself on the chair and lie down as you wait for his return.

Once he returns you begin to unclasp your bra, his narrow eyes watch you and your movements shake from the adrenaline and mainly because of his eyes watch you.

“Need help there?” he asks, offering you a sweet smile.

“Yea— please” you glance at him.

His hands move gently, his knuckles brush across the skin of your back— giving you goosebumps as he unclasps the bra like he's done this a million times before.

You chuckle to yourself at how quickly he does it— until he speaks.

“What's so funny, princess?” he smirks at you

“You unclasped that bra like you’re a professional at it” you giggle to yourself before suddenly stopping and realizing what you just said.

“Oh my god— I didn't mean to say that. I'm so— so sorry i—” you frantically explain, while holding up your bra at the same time as it threatens to fall off.

He chuckles at the way to frantically explain yourself before he speaks.

“It’s aight’ princess, it was funny” he chuckles as he begins to sterilise the needle.

“C’mon princess, take it off” he points to the bra.

“Yeah— right.” you awkwardly chuckle as you pull the bra off your chest, your plump tits spill out as your nipples pebble quickly from the cold air.

The pink blush on both of your faces increases by the second, but he nonetheless keeps it professional as he begins to clean off the area on your chest.

You gasp at the cold cotton being rubbed along your nipples, his large cold hands finding home at the bottom of your chest as he cups the swollen skin.

“Alright, take a deep breath for me okay?” he says— lining up the needle at the first nipple.

“A—alright” you breathe in, squeezing your eyes shut.

A silent whimper escapes your mouth as he pushes the needle in through the skin,

“Aaalright, breathe out princess” he says as he hooks the jewellery through and twists it shut.

You let out a long breath, lowly chuckling to yourself as you realize you really did this.

“See? Not that bad huh?” he says and he begins the same process for the other nipple.

“Yeah, it's not that bad” you chuckle.

—

After both of the piercings were complete you were starting to put your bra back on when he stopped you as he grabbed your wrists.

“Oh, you can't wear that right now” he lets you know.

“Oh— i uhm— dont have anything else right now” you speak, the sound of stress lining with your voice. “I need to wear something under this sweater I can't just walk out with my boobs out” you lightly chuckle as you awkwardly look at him.

“You can take my hoodie— I don't mind” he smiles back at you as he walks out for a moment before returning with a black hoodie. “Here” he says, handing it out to you.

“Oh! Thank you! I’ll be sure to return it, I promise!” you enthusiastically say before grabbing it from his hands, your fingers lightly brushing his hand as you take it and zip up the large hoodie half way through. The contour of your tits showing.

“Yeah— no problem dont worry— looks better on you anyway princess” he winks at you before heading out the door leaving you blushing like crazy in the room alone.

You head to the counter to pay as he returns behind it.

“Dont worry ‘bout payin’ princess” he says as he bags a small bottle of cleaning solution to hand to you.

“What— no way I have to pay,” you say, going into your purse as you rummage through to find your wallet.

"m’ not allowin’ it doll.” he says as he chuckles.

“Dude— at least let me pay for the cleaning solution” you say.

“Nope— just promise me you’ll return that hoodie yeah?” he says as he smirks.

“Fine. I'll drop by tomorrow” you say, giving him a slight smirk.

“My names’ choso by the way— choso kamo.” he winks at you before walking to the back as he disappears.

The blush creeps up to the tips of your ears, leaving your skin heated as you walk out of the shop. Just as you make it to your car the musky smell of his perfume settles into your nose and fills up the car from his hoodie, gosh he smells heavenly.

—

The next day you woke up for some reason feeling excited to drive back to the shop. The anticipation of 

Seeing choso again, even if it's just for a few minutes makes your heart pound faster and your skin heat up.

Getting ready to go back made you feel like Cassie from euphoria, waking up early to do your everything shower, doing your hair and makeup and picking out the best outfit to perfectly show off your newly pierced wonders.

As you finally applied your lip gloss before heading out of your room, you grabbed the hoodie that still has his smell lingering on it, it was all folded up and ironed perfectly to give it to him back.

Heading downstairs without your mom seeing you was the difficult part, the white basically seethrough— tank top was showing off your piercing perfectly, at your last minute decision you decided to wear the hoodie just until you got past your mother and into the car.

“Y/n. Where are you going?” Your mom stops you just as you are at the end of the stairs. “And who’s hoodie is that?” She questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“Going out to meet some friends ma, i’ll be back soon wont take long” you roll your eyes as you attempt to grab your keys from the hook next to her and the door.

“You didn't answer my other question y/n.” She repeats sternly. 

"Holy crap mom, it's my friend's hoodie. I just borrowed it cus i was cold” you said annoyedly.

Before she could get another word in you leave the house not before you grab your keys.

The drive there you were excited to just see him one last time, feeling and looking your best you park your car and start walking towards the shop.

The bell at the door rings one more time as you walk through, he wasn't at the counter at the entrance— assuming he's in the back you sit as you wait for him at the same couch you did yesterday.

Not long after his tall presence fills the room as he walks back from being in the other room.

“Oh— hey princess, so eager to see me already?” he slyly says as he notices that you still have his hoodie on. “Still wearing my hoodie i see” 

“Oh this— I had to wear it to hide the piercing from my mom lemme just—” you say as you take off the hoodie. Your piercings are placed on display from how thin the layer of cotton is on your chest.

You attempt to hand him the hoodie back, but before you could even take your arms out the sleeves he grabs your wrists and pulls you in close. 

You yelp as he pulls you in, his breathing is so close to your face, the gum in his mouth giving him a minty breath— your free arm grabs onto his shirt for balance.

“You gon’ walk around with that skimpy ol’ top princess?” he speaks.

“I— i just wanted to give you your hoodie back and go home i—” you utter.

“Put the damn hoodie back on, doll” he speaks as he lets your hands free.

“Come back later when you have a more covered up shirt on princess” he speaks.

“Oh? Really? Or are you just making up excuses to keep seeing me?” you cock an eyebrow at him, the shoulders of the hoodie falling off yours now.

“Hmm, maybe” he smirks. 

“Maybe you should just ask me out then, don't be so cheap choso kamo” you smirk back— you have no idea where the sudden change of attitude came from or how you gained so much confidence to talk to him like this, but you like the power.

“Then go out with me doll” he walks behind the counter, leaning his chin in his palm.

“Hmm, I'll think about it— you know, so many dates planned” you say shrugging.

“You think you’re hilarious princess?” He stands up straight.

“Very— now ask me properly or I'm walking out of here with my wonders out” you cockly speak.

He lets out a sigh before repeating;

“Miss y/n, would you like to go out with me on friday to a nice restaurant across the street” he formally speaks, finishing off the question with a bow and grabbing your hands to kiss.

You giggle at his antics as you speak.

“Okay fine”

“Perfect, i already have your number from the consent form, i’ll text you details” he speaks.

“Oh wow stalker behavior” you chuckle. 

“Only for you” he winks as you walk out the door giggling to yourself.

—

Friday evening rolls around quicker than you expected. You’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time, the nervous flutter in your chest refusing to leave. Your phone buzzes.

Choso: I’m outside, doll. Don’t keep me waiting too long or I’ll assume you stood me up. You: Relax, stalker— I’ll be down in a second.

You grab your bag, slip into your shoes, just as you’re about to head out the door your mom stops you. 

“Did you get the fucking piercing when i specifically told you not to!?” she yelled.

“What— what the fuck are you talking about—” you argue back.

“I saw the jewellery and the cleaning solution! I told you not to fucking get it— but no! You have to be disobedient and go against my fucking word!” she screamed at you as she landed a hand on your face.

Your world stops. Face red and stinging— your ears start to ring.

“Get out of the fucking house now!” she yelled once more.

You run up the stairs as you go into your room and start packing whatever you can into your bag. The tears flowing down your face non-stop. Fuck, you forgot about choso.

You check your phone to see multiple missed calls and texts from him;

“Hey you comin’ down soon?”

“Hello?”

“Alright i get it, its cool”

“Coulda’ just said you didn’t wanna go. You didn't have to waste my time.”

The tears suddenly start to follow even harder one after the other. You attempt to call him multiple times but the call keeps going into voice mail— deciding that you have bigger issues at hand right now, you send a single text to him.

“Im sorry. Just got into an argument with my mom— got kicked out. Hope u can understand” 

You leave your phone on your bed and continue to pack whatever you could— as soon as you finish you look around your room for the last time. Spotting the hoodie choso gave you on your desk chair, you grab it and put it on— considering the fact that it's late at night and might be cold.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, hoodie drowning your frame, and tiptoe down the stairs. Your chest feels heavy, every breath shaky as the front door creaks open. The night air hits you cold, making your skin sting against the heat of your tears.

But then—

“Y/n.”

Your heart stops. He’s there. Leaning against his car, arms crossed, brows furrowed. His phone’s still in his hand, screen lit up with your name. He pushes off the car immediately when he sees your swollen eyes and the bag in your hand.

“Choso—” you whisper, throat raw.

“Don’t.” His voice is low but firm, and in two strides he’s in front of you, gently taking the bag off your shoulder. “Don’t apologize.”

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling. “I-I didn’t mean to ruin tonight, I just— she—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His hand cups your face, carefully avoiding the side that’s still red, thumb brushing against your damp cheek. His jaw clenches at the sight of you. “She hit you?”

Your silence is enough of an answer. He curses under his breath, shaking his head before pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap tight around you, one hand on the back of your head, holding you steady as you shake against him.

“You’re not staying anywhere else,” he mutters into your hair, voice steady, certain. “You’re coming with me.”

You try to protest weakly, “Choso, I— I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can,” he cuts you off, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are softer now, but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You’re not going anywhere else. I don’t care what you say. You’re staying with me.”

He wipes your cheek with his thumb, then gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not taking no for an answer, doll.”

You swallow hard, staring at him. For the first time tonight, you feel safe—anchored. The fight drains out of you.

Without another word, he guides you to the car, opening the passenger door and setting your bag in the back. Once you’re inside, he leans down a little, his gaze locking with yours.

“You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. Just… breathe. I’ve got you.”

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. His hand finds yours on the console, fingers lacing together as though to remind you he’s there. Every time you wipe at your tears, he squeezes your hand tighter.

When you finally pull up to his apartment building, he parks, gets out, and grabs your bag before you can even reach for it. “Come on, Let’s get you inside.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand all the way to the elevator.

And for the first time that night, you don’t feel so alone.

He walks you up to his apartment, fancy hallway and warm lights catch your eye as you walk along with him.

Your heart is thumping a million beats per second— is this a bad idea? Should you really be staying with a stranger you met two days ago? You don't even know his past, future, anything!

All your thoughts and anxiety get pushed further down as he guides you inside his home. 

You get greeted with a clean apartment, warm lights cast a shadow across the furniture, the large windows display the city’s night sky and tall buildings, giving you a sense of home you’ve never felt before while living with your mom.

“Im gonna put your bags in the room— i have a guest room dont worry” he gently speaks as he walks into one of the rooms in the hallway and places your bags inside.

You stand frozen in the middle of his living room, arms wrapped around yourself as if to shield from the leftover sting of tonight. Your fingers tighten on the edges of his hoodie, inhaling that musky scent that somehow settles the storm in your chest.

Choso walks back into the room, his dark eyes immediately finding you. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as if he’s studying you—not in the way that makes you shrink, but in a way that feels like he’s trying to read every piece of you.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You blink, caught off guard. “…Hungry?”

“Yeah. Food.” His lips twitch into a small smile. “It’s what normal people do after getting kicked out and almost stood up on a date.”

You can’t help the shaky laugh that slips out. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, pushing off the doorframe and heading into the kitchen. “C’mon, princess. Sit down before you pass out on my floor.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You follow him, letting yourself sink onto a stool at his counter. The kitchen is warm, the faint scent of spices lingering. He moves around with ease, pulling open cabinets, grabbing things from the fridge. He doesn’t ask you what you want—just starts cooking. Somehow, that feels nicer than having to choose.

You rest your chin on your hand, watching him. “You cook?”

He shoots you a glance over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I’m not just good with needles, doll.”

Your cheeks heat immediately at the implication, and you swat at the counter like that’ll hide it. “You’re so cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, turning back to the stove.

The silence that settles is comfortable. The sizzle of food in the pan fills the room, and for the first time tonight, your chest doesn’t ache.

When he finally sets a plate in front of you, you blink down at it in surprise. “This looks… really good.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He sits across from you, resting his elbows on the counter. “Eat.”

You take a tentative bite, then immediately hum in approval. “Okay, fine. I’m impressed.”

He leans back, satisfied. “Good.”

For a while, the two of you eat quietly. Every so often, your eyes flick up to find him already watching you, and you quickly look back down, pretending to focus on your plate.

When you finally set your fork down, your stomach full, the weight of the day crashes back down. Your shoulders slump, eyes stinging again. You hate that the tears threaten to spill again so easily.

Choso notices. He always seems to notice.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as he reaches across the counter, brushing his fingers against the back of your hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t look like the world’s ending.”

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze. “I… I don’t know where else to go. I don’t even know if I should be here—”

“You should.” His tone sharpens, firm in a way that pins you in place. “You think I’d let you leave after what happened? No way.”

The lump in your throat grows. “But I’m just… dumping all of this on you. And you don’t even really know me.”

“I know enough,” he says simply. “Enough to know I don’t wanna see you walk out that door alone.”

Your chest tightens. You bite your lip, trying to blink away the tears.

He stands, walking around the counter. Without asking, he gently takes your hand, guiding you off the stool and into his chest. The hug is strong, steady—his warmth wrapping around you like a shield.

“Stay here. Stay as long as you need,” he murmurs into your hair.

You grip his shirt, nodding against him. For the first time in years, maybe ever, you feel like someone’s choosing you—without hesitation.

Choso pulls back just enough to look down at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb again. His voice lowers, almost a whisper.

“You’re safe here, I promise.”

And in that moment, standing in his arms with the city lights glowing through his windows—you believe him.

—

The first thing you notice when you wake up isn’t the bed—it’s the smell. Coffee, warm and bitter, drifting through the apartment. You blink your eyes open slowly, sitting up in the guest bed. The sheets are soft, the kind of softness you don’t get at home, and the hoodie you fell asleep in still smells like him.

For a moment, you forget everything. Forget the fight, the slap, the yelling. For once, your chest doesn’t feel so heavy.

Until you hear his voice.

“Morning, princess.”

You jump, turning to see him leaning against the doorframe, mug in hand. His hair’s messy, still damp at the ends from a shower, clinging to his neck. The plain black sweatpants and loose shirt shouldn’t look as good as they do on him, but of course, he pulls it off.

“Morning,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. “You didn’t have to—”

“Already made breakfast,” he cuts you off, smirking into his mug. “Get up before it gets cold.”

You shuffle out of bed, tugging down the hoodie to cover more of your legs as you pad barefoot into the kitchen. On the counter: toast, eggs, and fruit—simple, but perfect.

“You cook again?” you tease, sliding onto the stool.

“Told you I’m not just good with needles,” he fires back easily, setting his mug down as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, biting into the toast. 

He watches you eat with that same quiet intensity he always has, like he’s memorizing you. After a moment, his lips twitch.

“You’re cute when you just wake up.”

You choke a little on your toast, smacking his arm when he laughs. “Shut up” you mumble.

But your cheeks burn, and he notices. Of course he notices.

—

You spend the day together in small, easy ways—watching a dumb movie, arguing over playlists, him teasing you when you steal his hoodie again because it’s “way too comfortable to give back.” By the time evening rolls around, your nerves kick in.

You’re in front of his bathroom mirror, adjusting your outfit for what feels like the hundredth time. The thin straps of your dress keep sliding down your shoulders, and your lip gloss suddenly looks too shiny.

“You ready in there, doll?” his voice calls through the door.

You stare at yourself, heart thumping. This isn’t just crashing at his place anymore. This is real. A date.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

He’s waiting in the hall, black button-up rolled to his forearms, silver chain at his neck catching the light. When his eyes land on you, he freezes.

“…Damn.”

“What?” you frown, suddenly self-conscious.

“You look…” He shakes his head slightly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Like you’re tryna kill me, doll.”

You bite back a smile, heat flooding your cheeks. “Shut up and let’s go.”

The restaurant across the street is warm and low-lit, the kind of place where the hum of other conversations makes you feel private. He pulls your chair out for you—mocking your surprised look with a wink—then sits across from you, leaning back casually but with his eyes always on you.

The conversation flows easier than you expected. Between bites of food, he tells you stories about stupid things he and his brother did when they were younger. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and he just sits there, grinning like he could watch you laugh forever.

At one point, his hand brushes over yours on the table. You freeze, but he doesn’t move it away—just curls his fingers around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

By the end of dinner, you’re flushed from more than just being full.

Walking back across the street, the city lights glow against the dark, buzzing faintly in the air. You hug his hoodie tighter around yourself—it’s way too big for you, but it feels like safety.

The walk back to his apartment is quiet—comfortable, but charged. His hand is still in yours, thumb lazily dragging across your skin with every step. It shouldn’t make your chest feel this tight, but it does.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity. He stands close, too close, his scent wrapping around you until your knees feel weak. He doesn’t touch you—not yet—but his eyes burn holes into the side of your face.

By the time he unlocks the apartment door and lets you in, your pulse is already racing. You slip off your shoes, tossing your purse over the couch, but before you can turn around—

His hand catches your wrist.

You gasp, stumbling as he pulls you back against his chest. His breath is hot against your ear, his voice low, teasing:

“You have any idea what you did to me tonight, princess?”

Your throat dries instantly. “I—what are you—”

He tugs your chin back so you’re forced to look up at him. His smirk is sharp, dangerous. “You sit there lookin’ at me all night in that little dress, laughin’ like you know exactly what you’re doin’ to me… and then you expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

Your body jolts when his other hand trails down, brushing over your hip, gripping it hard. The warmth of his palm seeps right through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Choso…” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What, doll?” His lips ghost over your jaw, deliberately avoiding your mouth, teasing you until you’re practically vibrating with need. “You want me to stop?”

You can’t even lie. You shake your head desperately. “N-no.”

That’s all it takes.

The teasing snaps.

He crashes his mouth onto yours, the kiss deep, messy, hungry. You whimper against him as his tongue slides against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you exactly where he wants you. The heat between your thighs pulses, and you grab at his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

He pulls back just long enough to murmur against your lips—

“Good.”

You barely have time to breathe before he’s hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He carries you down the hall with ease, mouth never leaving yours, until your back hits the wall outside his bedroom. The impact knocks a moan out of you, swallowed instantly by his kiss.

“Fuck—” he groans against your lips, grinding you against the hard length pressing up beneath his zipper. “You feel that, doll? That’s what you did to me sittin’ there lookin’ so goddamn pretty.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you whine, your dress riding up higher on your thighs. His hand slips under the hem, rough fingers squeezing at your bare skin.

“Say you want it,” he growls, lips dragging down to your neck. “Say it, doll.”

“I—fuck—want it,” you gasp, tilting your head back as his teeth scrape along your pulse point. “I want you, Choso.”

The sound he makes is low and guttural, like he’s been waiting to hear that all night. His mouth moves lower, lips brushing the swell of your chest through the neckline of your dress.

“Then you’re gonna get it,” he promises, voice dark, sending a shiver straight through you.

His mouth is everywhere—hot, messy kisses down your throat, biting hard enough to leave bruises, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly you’ll feel it tomorrow. You don’t even make it to the bed before he spins, throwing you onto it with ease. The mattress bounces under you, and you’re scrambling to sit up when he’s already over you, his knee pressing between your legs, forcing them apart.

“Take this off,” he orders, tugging at your dress. His voice is low, sharp—commanding.

Your hands fumble with the straps, but he growls in frustration, gripping the fabric and yanking it down in one rough motion until it’s pooling around your waist. Your bra follows just as quickly, unclasped with the same skill he’d shown in the shop.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark as they rake over your chest. His thumb brushes over the glint of metal in your nipples, and your whole body jerks. “Still sore, princess?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, heat flooding through you.

“Good.” His smirk is wicked as he dips his head, dragging his tongue over one pierced bud, sucking hard until you cry out. The sting, the heat, the wet suction—it’s almost unbearable, and you’re arching into him shamelessly, nails digging into his shoulders.

But he doesn’t linger. He pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, already working at the buttons of his shirt. His movements are impatient, rough. The shirt’s gone in seconds, then his belt clinks open, jeans shoved down just far enough for his cock to spring free—thick, flushed, leaking.

Your breath catches. “Choso—”

“Shh.” He leans down, kissing you hard, his hand shoving your panties aside in one swift motion. His fingers drag through your slick folds, and he groans into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Been wantin’ this all night, huh?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough for him.

“Say it,” he demands, pressing two thick fingers inside you without warning, making you gasp. “Tell me you wanted it.”

“I—I wanted it,” you whimper, back arching as he curls his fingers just right. “Fuck, I wanted you so bad.”

That does it.

He pulls his hand back, slick fingers wrapping around his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, holding you down against the mattress.

“This pussy is mine now, princess,” he growls, his tip nudging at your entrance before he slams in all at once, burying himself to the hilt.

You scream—loud, shameless—your walls stretching around him, the sudden fullness making your head spin.

“Fuck—so tight,” he grits out, forehead pressed against yours as he grinds deep. “Takin’ me so good.”

Then he starts moving.

Hard, fast thrusts that make the bed slam into the wall, your body bouncing beneath him. Each drag of his cock pulls a broken moan from your throat, your legs wrapping tight around his waist to keep him inside.

He fucks you like he’s starved for it, like he can’t get deep enough, rough groans spilling against your mouth every time you clench around him.

“Look at you,” he pants, pulling back just enough to see your face, flushed and wrecked. “Already falling apart on my cock.”

Your nails claw down his back as he pounds into you harder, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, your cries filling the air.

“Choso—fuck—gonna—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?” He smirks, snapping his hips harder, faster, until your vision blurs. “Do it, doll. Cum on my cock. Show me who you belong to.”

The command shatters you. Your climax rips through you, white-hot, your whole body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on him so tight he nearly loses it, groaning loud into your ear as he thrusts through your orgasm.

“Shit—fuck—gonna fill you up,” he growls, his rhythm faltering. One last slam of his hips and he’s spilling inside you, cock twitching deep as his warmth floods you.

The bed is shaking, the sheets twisted, your body trembling beneath him as he finally stills. He drops his forehead to your chest, panting hard, sweat dripping down his temple.

For a long moment, the only sound is your heavy breathing. His grip on your wrists loosens, and he finally releases you, brushing his fingers over your sore skin.

Then, voice rough but soft, he murmurs:

“Told you, doll. You’re mine now.”

Your body’s still trembling when he finally pulls out, his cum spilling hot between your thighs. The sudden emptiness makes you whimper, but he’s already leaning down to kiss you—slower this time, tender, nothing like the way he devoured you minutes ago.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “You did so good for me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your chest still heaving. “I can barely feel my legs.”

That earns a quiet smirk from him, but instead of teasing, he slips off the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the faucet run, then he’s back with a warm, damp towel in hand.

“Spread ‘em for me,” he says softly—not a command this time, just a gentle request.

You obey, still dazed, and he kneels at the edge of the bed. The sight of him there—broad shoulders hunched, hair falling into his face as he carefully cleans you up—makes your heart clench in a way rough sex never could.

His touch is slow, careful, wiping away the mess with deliberate gentleness. He glances up at you once, checking your expression. “Not too sore?”

“A little,” you admit, voice small.

He hums low in his throat, finishing his task before tossing the towel aside. Then he climbs back onto the bed, pulling the sheets over both of you. His arms slide around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers. “Need you close.”

You melt instantly, tucking your face into the warm skin of his neck. His hand strokes lazily down your back, soothing the ache in your muscles. For a long time, you just lay there in silence, your breathing syncing with his.

Then, almost too quiet to hear, he murmurs:

“Didn’t hurt you, right? Tell me if I was too rough.”

Your chest tightens at how sincere he sounds. You lift your head just enough to look at him, eyes soft. “You were perfect, Choso. I liked it.”

The relief on his face is subtle but real. He leans in, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before settling back against the pillows.

“Good,” he says, his voice rumbling against your cheek. “’Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

And with his arms around you, the last thing you feel before sleep pulls you under is safe.

—

Sunlight creeps through the blinds, spilling across the sheets in pale stripes. The first thing you register is warmth—the heavy weight of an arm draped over your waist, a chest pressed snug against your back. The second thing is his breathing, slow and steady, tickling against your shoulder.

“Mm,” Choso hums, voice still thick with sleep. His arm tightens around you as you shift. “Don’t move.”

You chuckle softly. “You’re heavy.”

“Deal with it,” he mumbles into your skin, planting a lazy kiss on the curve of your shoulder. His voice is rough, low in that way that makes your stomach flutter. “Too comfortable.”

You try to roll over, but he only drags you closer, practically wrapping his whole body around you like a human furnace.

“Choso, I need water—”

“Later,” he interrupts, eyes still shut, nose buried in your hair. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You laugh quietly, reaching back to poke his side. “You’re clingy in the morning.”

He finally opens one eye, giving you a flat look that only makes you smile wider. “And what about it?” he mutters. “You’re mine. I’m allowed.”

Your face heats, the memory of last night flashing hot through your body. He notices, of course—smirking, smug even while half-asleep.

“Yeah, I remember too,” he drawls, hand slipping under the hem of the blanket to squeeze your thigh. “Might have to remind you again before breakfast.”

You swat at his chest, laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

He catches your hand easily, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. The tease fades from his face for just a moment, leaving something softer, quieter.

“…Seriously though,” he murmurs, eyes locking with yours. “Waking up with you here feels good.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his tone, and for once, you don’t deflect. You just smile, tucking your head against his chest as his arms close around you again.

“Feels good for me too.”

“Hey, listen. Wanna take y’out tonight, got somethin’ special planned” he speaks, peppering soft kisses along your cheeks.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling, “where you takin’ me” you ask. 

“Dont worry bout’ it doll. Just dress nice” 

—

The night air is warm, carrying the faint hum of the city. You don’t know where he’s taking you—he’s been annoyingly cryptic all day, just telling you to “dress nice” with that sly little grin of his.

When he finally stops walking, you realize he’s led you to the edge of the river. Lanterns line the path, their soft glow reflecting on the water like stars fallen from the sky. A blanket is spread out in the grass, a small box of takeout sitting in the middle, along with two cups of boba.

You blink at the setup. “Wait—did you… plan this?”

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking boyish despite the usual sharpness in his eyes. “Yeah. I, uh… wanted tonight to be just us. No noise. No distractions.”

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you sit down on the blanket. “This is… actually really sweet, Choso.”

He smirks faintly, but there’s a nervous edge to it. He sits across from you, handing you your favorite boba order without you even asking. “I pay attention, y’know.”

The two of you eat, laugh, and talk until the food’s gone, the city quieting around you. At some point, he shifts closer, his hand brushing yours in the grass.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, voice lower now.

You glance at him, curious. “Of course.”

He exhales, eyes flicking down to where your hands nearly touch. “…I don’t really do this. Relationships. All this soft shit.” He chuckles awkwardly. “But you… you’ve got me doing things I never thought I’d care about. Thinking about you when I wake up, planning dumb little dates like this—”

You feel your heart hammer in your chest as he finally turns fully toward you, his usual composure stripped away. There’s no teasing smirk now—just sincerity.

“So what I’m asking is…” His hand finds yours at last, fingers threading carefully through yours. “Would you let me be your boyfriend?”

The question hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way you’ve never heard from him.

Your breath catches, but the answer is already on your lips. “Yes.”

His whole body relaxes, the relief clear in his smile as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips—gentle, lingering, full of the tenderness he just confessed.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan on letting you go.”

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

a/n: can u tell i gave up towards the end😭 ALSO this is totally inspired by me getting all my ear piercings behind my moms back 😛 my fresh piercing started bleeding in the middle of me writing this lmao. hope u enjoyed tho reblogs and kudos are MUCH appreciated, and pls suggest ideas to me in my ask box <3

[forestlv4r]

if you'd read a fanfic about reader getting a piercing, which one would you want her to get?

[forestlv4r]

WHERE IT BURNS B.katsuki x Fem!reader Pt.2

synopsis: you hurt yourself trying to protect him during a villain fight. yet it puts a strain on you and katsuki's relationship.

warnings: smut, alot of smut, pet names, swearing, established relationship,, overstimulation, dom!bakugo, TIMESKIP CHARACTERS!! let me know if i missed any!

wc: 1.1k

You take him to your small apartment, walking in feels weird, there's a new presence, one you never thought you’d see again.

As he walks in, his muddy boots getting toed off at the front door, he stands still for a second.

“I know it's not much right now, but there's been so much going on and— and I can't really get back up on my feet.” you say, your voice going down to a whisper at the last part.

“What— what do you mean.” he says roughly.

“Well, ever since I've left the hospital, I've had no family, never finished my education, no experience in anything— and my quirk has weakened since I haven't used it in so long.” you mumble looking down at your socks. “So I've been working at a small flower shop down the street.”

“Baby, why didn't you come to me— do you realize what I've been going through trying to convince myself that you’re still here?” he breaths as he grabs your hands in his, mindlessly rubbing soft circles on your knuckles with his thumbs.

“Well since you’re a pro hero now it's literally impossible to reach you— I've tried calling your agency so many times but they always blew me off, i really tried to get in contact with you, suki”

“Oh my baby..” he sighs as he grabs you into his chest, holding you tighter than ever.

You look up at him, locking in your gaze with him— his once bright red eyes shift into something darker, his pupils dilate. His body moves before his mind does— 

“Tell me to stop.” he mumbles.

You don't.

Your lips crash into each other, something beyond comfort, something about the kiss is hungry— years of not seeing each other, years of not feeling your touch on his, all gathered into one kiss.

His lips are soft, they move in unison with yours— his tongue swipes against your lips, begging for access, as you give it to him— his tongue finds a new home next to yours. Teeth clashing, saliva mixing, the end of the kiss leaving you both breathless as you pull apart— a string of saliva connecting the both of you.

“I’ve missed you idiot” he smiles against your lips, his barely brushing yours.

“I missed you too suki” you chuckle.

Your lips find his again, deeper, more sensually as you both stumble into your bedroom. He breaks the kiss for a moment to place you down gently on the bed—

“Do you really wanna do this?” he asks, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“More than anything” you reply, grabbing his neck to kiss him again.

He hovers over you on the bed, breaking the kiss a few times to remove his hero costume. His hands roam all over your body as he moves his kisses down to your neck, his tongue brushing over that specific spot behind your ears as you giggle.

His warm palms find their way under your shirt— moving his way up to cup one of your breasts, as you let out a moan.

His thumbs toy with one of your nipples as they pebble under his touch.

“Suki please— no teasing”

You pout as you grab onto his wrists.

He lets out a chuckle,

“Patience baby”

Your clothes are quickly discarded, leaving you in nothing but your panties, and him in his boxers, bulge poking out.

“Gosh baby you dont know what you do to me” he breathes out as he looks over your bare body, his hands trace over your now healed scar, moving so gently like you have fragile written all over you.

“Oh my darling..” he breathes out.

“Katsu stop staring..” you mumble shyly, attempting to hide your face with your hands— he grabs at your wrists pulling your hands down.

“Let me see that beautiful face while I make you feel good baby” he places a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, then chest, making his way to just above your waistband. His eyes glowing with hunger as he maintains eye contact while he pushes your panties to the side— leaving your face flushed with pink.

His breath hovers over your pussy, making you squirm all over as he chuckles. His lips latch onto your clit— tongue shoving into your tight entrance making you let out a pornographic moan.

“Ah! Katuski!” you whimper.

“You’re doing all this squirming with my tongue— what are you gonna do with m’cock baby?” he teases, going back into your sweet pussy— juices dripping down his chin. Eating like a starving man as he shoves two fingers in your entrance while his mouth works over your throbbing clit.

“Mmngh— suki m’gonna cum!!” you moan out,

“Let it out baby, cum all over my face” he slurps.

Just as his long thick fingers curl into the right spot— the tight coil in your stomach snaps as you cum all over his face. He wastes no time to drink it all up, not wasting a single drop as he helps you ride out your high— going for a bit too long as your poor clit becomes overstimulated.

“Ah! Mngh— suki tha— that's enough!” you squirm, pushing at his blond locks.

He finishes by giving your lips a kiss as he moves back up to crash his lips into yours, making you taste yourself from his tongue— earning a whimper from your throat.

He quickly rushes to discard his briefs as he throws them on the floor next to the rest of the long forgotten pieces of fabric— his cock springs out, red, flushed, angry mushroom tip leaking with pre. 

He lines himself up with your tight entrance, taking every muscle in his body not to bottom out all at once for your sake.

“Suki— go ngh! Fa—faster!” you whine.

“If you say so baby” he grunts as he places a kiss on your cheek, forcing his length all in at once.

“O—oh!” you moan out into his ear. Your nails clawing at his back leaving marks and scratches for tomorrows problem.

“Let me hear you baby— don't hold back” he grunts into your ear.

The obscene sounds of wet skin slapping and moaning filling the room, his breath trickling down your neck, making you squirm and moan out loud.

“Mngh! Suki, I'm so close!” you whine out.

“Let it out baby, cum all over my cock like the slut you are” he grunts.

His thumb slides over down to where your bodies connect. Rubbing tight circles on your clit that send you over the edge.

“Ah— ah! Suki!!” you scream as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

He continues his movements as he cums deep into your core.

His movement starts to stutter, clumsy thrusts as you both ride out your high.

“I love you so much baby” he mutters as his hands find your face and his lips crash into yours.

“I love you too” you mutter between kisses.

a/c: hope u enjoyed this ;p also lmk if i should make a pt.3 thats like fluff n shit

[forestlv4r]

WHERE IT BURNS B.katsuki x Fem!reader Pt.2

synopsis: you hurt yourself trying to protect him during a villain fight. yet it puts a strain on you and katsuki's relationship.

warnings: smut, alot of smut, pet names, swearing, established relationship,, overstimulation, dom!bakugo, TIMESKIP CHARACTERS!! let me know if i missed any!

pt.1

wc: 1.1k

You take him to your small apartment, walking in feels weird, there's a new presence, one you never thought you’d see again.

As he walks in, his muddy boots getting toed off at the front door, he stands still for a second.

“I know it's not much right now, but there's been so much going on and— and I can't really get back up on my feet.” you say, your voice going down to a whisper at the last part.

“What— what do you mean.” he says roughly.

“Well, ever since I've left the hospital, I've had no family, never finished my education, no experience in anything— and my quirk has weakened since I haven't used it in so long.” you mumble looking down at your socks. “So I've been working at a small flower shop down the street.”

“Baby, why didn't you come to me— do you realize what I've been going through trying to convince myself that you’re still here?” he breaths as he grabs your hands in his, mindlessly rubbing soft circles on your knuckles with his thumbs.

“Well since you’re a pro hero now it's literally impossible to reach you— I've tried calling your agency so many times but they always blew me off, i really tried to get in contact with you, suki”

“Oh my baby..” he sighs as he grabs you into his chest, holding you tighter than ever.

You look up at him, locking in your gaze with him— his once bright red eyes shift into something darker, his pupils dilate. His body moves before his mind does— 

“Tell me to stop.” he mumbles.

You don't.

Your lips crash into each other, something beyond comfort, something about the kiss is hungry— years of not seeing each other, years of not feeling your touch on his, all gathered into one kiss.

His lips are soft, they move in unison with yours— his tongue swipes against your lips, begging for access, as you give it to him— his tongue finds a new home next to yours. Teeth clashing, saliva mixing, the end of the kiss leaving you both breathless as you pull apart— a string of saliva connecting the both of you.

“I’ve missed you idiot” he smiles against your lips, his barely brushing yours.

“I missed you too suki” you chuckle.

Your lips find his again, deeper, more sensually as you both stumble into your bedroom. He breaks the kiss for a moment to place you down gently on the bed—

“Do you really wanna do this?” he asks, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“More than anything” you reply, grabbing his neck to kiss him again.

He hovers over you on the bed, breaking the kiss a few times to remove his hero costume. His hands roam all over your body as he moves his kisses down to your neck, his tongue brushing over that specific spot behind your ears as you giggle.

His warm palms find their way under your shirt— moving his way up to cup one of your breasts, as you let out a moan.

His thumbs toy with one of your nipples as they pebble under his touch.

“Suki please— no teasing”

You pout as you grab onto his wrists.

He lets out a chuckle,

“Patience baby”

Your clothes are quickly discarded, leaving you in nothing but your panties, and him in his boxers, bulge poking out.

“Gosh baby you dont know what you do to me” he breathes out as he looks over your bare body, his hands trace over your now healed scar, moving so gently like you have fragile written all over you.

“Oh my darling..” he breathes out.

“Katsu stop staring..” you mumble shyly, attempting to hide your face with your hands— he grabs at your wrists pulling your hands down.

“Let me see that beautiful face while I make you feel good baby” he places a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, then chest, making his way to just above your waistband. His eyes glowing with hunger as he maintains eye contact while he pushes your panties to the side— leaving your face flushed with pink.

His breath hovers over your pussy, making you squirm all over as he chuckles. His lips latch onto your clit— tongue shoving into your tight entrance making you let out a pornographic moan.

“Ah! Katuski!” you whimper.

“You’re doing all this squirming with my tongue— what are you gonna do with m’cock baby?” he teases, going back into your sweet pussy— juices dripping down his chin. Eating like a starving man as he shoves two fingers in your entrance while his mouth works over your throbbing clit.

“Mmngh— suki m’gonna cum!!” you moan out,

“Let it out baby, cum all over my face” he slurps.

Just as his long thick fingers curl into the right spot— the tight coil in your stomach snaps as you cum all over his face. He wastes no time to drink it all up, not wasting a single drop as he helps you ride out your high— going for a bit too long as your poor clit becomes overstimulated.

“Ah! Mngh— suki tha— that's enough!” you squirm, pushing at his blond locks.

He finishes by giving your lips a kiss as he moves back up to crash his lips into yours, making you taste yourself from his tongue— earning a whimper from your throat.

He quickly rushes to discard his briefs as he throws them on the floor next to the rest of the long forgotten pieces of fabric— his cock springs out, red, flushed, angry mushroom tip leaking with pre. 

He lines himself up with your tight entrance, taking every muscle in his body not to bottom out all at once for your sake.

“Suki— go ngh! Fa—faster!” you whine.

“If you say so baby” he grunts as he places a kiss on your cheek, forcing his length all in at once.

“O—oh!” you moan out into his ear. Your nails clawing at his back leaving marks and scratches for tomorrows problem.

“Let me hear you baby— don't hold back” he grunts into your ear.

The obscene sounds of wet skin slapping and moaning filling the room, his breath trickling down your neck, making you squirm and moan out loud.

“Mngh! Suki, I'm so close!” you whine out.

“Let it out baby, cum all over my cock like the slut you are” he grunts.

His thumb slides over down to where your bodies connect. Rubbing tight circles on your clit that send you over the edge.

“Ah— ah! Suki!!” you scream as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

He continues his movements as he cums deep into your core.

His movement starts to stutter, clumsy thrusts as you both ride out your high.

“I love you so much baby” he mutters as his hands find your face and his lips crash into yours.

“I love you too” you mutter between kisses.

a/c: hope u enjoyed this ;p also lmk if i should make a pt.3 thats like fluff n shit

[forestlv4r]

MASTERLIST ✫彡ミ★✥

JJK ★✥

g.satoru!

Teenage fever g.satoru x Fem!reader

C.kamo!

Pierce The Vein c.kamo x Fem!reader

MHA★✥

B.katsuki!

Where it burns pt.1 B.katsuki x Fem!reader

where it burns pt.2 B.katsuki xFem!reader

MORE CHARACTERS AND FANDOMS UPCOMING!!!

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[forestlv4r]

WHERE IT BURNS B.katsuki x fem!reader Pt.1

synopsis: you hurt yourself trying to protect him during a villain fight. yet it puts a strain on you and katsuki's relationship.

warnings: angst, fluff, use of y/n, swearing, TONS of crying, mentions of death, TIMESKIP CHARACTERS!! let me know if i missed any!

wc: 1.5k

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

ミ★✫彡༄

The sun sets quietly, pink and gold hues scatter across your dorm room. Bakugo’s head lay on your chest— your hands playing in his hair, scratching that familiar spot he likes.

“Whats on your mind?” you ask, voice soft— warm.

“Nothin’, just thinking” he mumbles into your chest.

“ ‘bout what?”

“Y’know.. If you ever leave me. I’m not sure I'd ever be myself again.” he says, turning his head up to look at you. His eyes soften into something you’ve never seen before— love? Fear?

You chuckle to yourself, “where would I go , dummy? I'm never leaving your side, even if the Russian and American military told me themselves.” you giggle, your soft hands returning to play with his golden locks.

“Yeah, yeah, shutup idiot.” 

You later got called into a mission with him, a simple one— it would take at most maybe two hours.

You’ve always been the one person who could match Bakugo’s fire without getting burned. The one who’d call him out, laugh in his face, and still stand by his side. He never said it — not once — but everyone could see it: he loved you.

The mission should’ve been simple. When the blast went off, you didn’t think — you just moved. Straight into the line of fire. Straight in front of him.

The world fell silent, the screams of bakugo faded along with the echoes of his explosions, the ones that hit you.

What followed after were hours of sirens, shouting, bakugo screaming— his hands becoming full of blisters from hitting every surface he could land his knuckles on. But nothing could stow away the pain that he felt— knowing he hurt you.

nights at the hospital fell dark, distained, depressing. The smell of disinfectant became the new normal for him, staying hours by your side— the tears constantly threatening to fall, and follow along with the threat.

Not once was he leaving your side, nurses, doctors, his friends— begging him to leave for just a moment, take care of himself— but how could they suggest such things when he was the reason you couldn’t take care of yourself?

“Don’t you dare die on me. You hear me? You don’t get to do that! Not after everything — not after you made me—”

His voice breaks.

“—made me love you.”

ミ★✫彡༄

The days stretch into weeks, the machines beeping all around the both of you become a normal sound, overworking themselves to keep you alive, just to give him a little bit of hope that you’ll return— but you never do. 

His world goes silent as the machines flatline, your heartbeat stops, his is stuttering. 

Nurses rushed in. Doctors shouted orders. Bakugo didn’t move. He sat frozen, his grip locked around your hand, knuckles white, face blank.

When they tried to pull him away, he fought like a wild animal, screaming, thrashing, begging, his voice shattering until nothing but broken sobs came out.

And when they finally dragged him from the room, kicking and clawing at the doorframe, his last words tore through the hall like a gunshot:

“COME BACK! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME—NOT YOU—NOT YOU—!”

Then silence.

After that day, Bakugo was never the same. His fire burned too bright, then died with you.

Some nights, Kirishima swore he heard him talking to someone in his dorm room. His voice low. Gentle. Like he was still updating you on the world.

And on his nightstand, beneath the crumpled notebook pages and broken pens, words written on the notebook that he never got to say to you, sat your old hero costume. Washed. Folded. Waiting.

For a return that would never come.

His days all seemed to blend into one, never knowing the time, never understanding the world around him. His voice was never raised once more, the quirk he once took pride in, flaunted across all of japan— now hidden from the rest of the world. How could anyone expect him to use what was once used to hurt you— kill you.

Years passed, he never forgot you, how could he? That smile, the sweet voice that he heard whenever you would tell him off for not being careful, that laugh he heard whenever kaminari did something stupid again.

He was now a pro hero, doing everything he does now for the sake of you, your ghost that he feels walking with him every step of his journey. 

Every mission, every battle, every sleepless night — you were there, in the back of his mind, the shadow he could never outrun. He never said it out loud, but you were the one thing he lost that no victory could replace.

And then, one evening, a patrol cut short by rain drives him into a corner store. He’s pulling down his hood when he hears it — that laugh. That impossible laugh.

His blood turns to ice. He whirls around. And there you are.

Alive.

Laughing.

You were glowing, the scar from where you were hit, the one that ran from the middle of your chest all the way to your shoulders— fully healed. You were alive.

Was this another one of his nightmares? Was he hallucinating? He looked around, thinking this was a prank being played on him. Is it really you?

“y/n..” he called out, voice barely above a whisper— cracking as he attempted to let in a breath.

His chest caves in. “No way…” His voice cracks. “You’re—” His throat burns. “…you’re alive?”

You freeze. The bag of groceries in your hand trembles. Slowly, your eyes widen, glistening with tears you don’t try to hide. “…Katsuki?”

The sound of his name on your lips rips him apart. He doesn’t know if he should scream, or cry, or collapse. 

He approached slowly, afraid if he moved too fast you’d disappear into thin air yet again.

“Is it— is it really you?” he asks, unable to comprehend the sight upon him.

“Yes— yes it really is katsuki. My baby i—” 

Your words cut off my him grabbing you into his chest. His hands grabbing onto your head against his chest like you’ll vanish if he doesn't hold you tight enough. You feel his heartbeat going a thousand beats per second. 

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice is hoarse, breaking under the weight of years. “I—I thought you were dead, damn it!”

You swallow hard, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I almost was. They moved me out, Katsuki. Said it wasn’t safe after what happened. I couldn’t— I couldn’t get back to you.”

He stares, chest heaving, rain dripping off his hair and onto your skin. You’re real. Warm. Alive. His hand shakes as it finally slides down your wrist to lace with your fingers, desperate and trembling.

“Do you have any idea…” His voice breaks. He bows his head, pressing his forehead against yours. “…any fucking idea what it did to me? Thinking you were gone? That I never got to tell you—”

Your breath hitches. “Tell me what?”

His red eyes meet yours, raw and unguarded. “That I love you. That I’ve always loved you. And I’ll never stop, no matter how many goddamn years they try to take from us.”

For a moment, the world is silent but for the rain. And then, slowly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. “Then don’t waste another second.”

The kiss is desperate, years of grief and longing crashing into a single moment — messy, wet from rain and tears, but so real it almost hurts. He clutches you like you’ll disappear if he lets go, pouring every broken piece of himself into you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both trembling, foreheads pressed together.

“Promise me,” you whisper, voice unsteady, “you won’t let me go again.”

“I— I promise baby, I'll never let you go, never leave your side— holy shit you’re still here.” he chuckles.

The kiss leaves both of you breathless, but when you pull back, he’s still chasing you, forehead pressed to yours, ragged breaths fanning across your lips.

“Years,” he growls softly, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “I spent years thinking I’d never get this… never get you. And now you’re here—” He breaks off, swallowing hard, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not holding back anymore.”

The way he looks at you is overwhelming — all fire, all intensity, all the love he’s never been able to say. His hands slide up your arms, firm and desperate, tugging you closer until you’re chest-to-chest, the rain soaking into both your clothes but neither of you caring.

Your reply comes in the form of another kiss — deeper this time, hungrier. His breath hitches against your lips before he gives in completely, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

There’s no space left between you. His mouth moves against yours with a kind of desperation that only years of loss could create — hot, unsteady, a confession in every touch. When he finally tears himself away, both of you are gasping for air, your lips swollen, his eyes burning into yours.

“Tell me this is real,” you whisper.His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in until his lips brush your ear. His voice is rough, breathless, raw: “It’s real. You’re mine. And I’m never letting you go again.”

a/n: HIII i hope you enjoyed part one of this series :p omg i cant tell you how many times i cried writing this btw, i was dying.

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[forestlv4r]

WHERE IT BURNS B.katsuki x fem!reader Pt.1

synopsis: you hurt yourself trying to protect him during a villain fight. yet it puts a strain on you and katsuki's relationship.

warnings: angst, fluff, use of y/n, swearing, TONS of crying, mentions of death, TIMESKIP CHARACTERS!! let me know if i missed any!

wc: 1.5k

pt.2

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

ミ★✫彡༄

The sun sets quietly, pink and gold hues scatter across your dorm room. Bakugo’s head lay on your chest— your hands playing in his hair, scratching that familiar spot he likes.

“Whats on your mind?” you ask, voice soft— warm.

“Nothin’, just thinking” he mumbles into your chest.

“ ‘bout what?”

“Y’know.. If you ever leave me. I’m not sure I'd ever be myself again.” he says, turning his head up to look at you. His eyes soften into something you’ve never seen before— love? Fear?

You chuckle to yourself, “where would I go , dummy? I'm never leaving your side, even if the Russian and American military told me themselves.” you giggle, your soft hands returning to play with his golden locks.

“Yeah, yeah, shutup idiot.” 

You later got called into a mission with him, a simple one— it would take at most maybe two hours.

You’ve always been the one person who could match Bakugo’s fire without getting burned. The one who’d call him out, laugh in his face, and still stand by his side. He never said it — not once — but everyone could see it: he loved you.

The mission should’ve been simple. When the blast went off, you didn’t think — you just moved. Straight into the line of fire. Straight in front of him.

The world fell silent, the screams of bakugo faded along with the echoes of his explosions, the ones that hit you.

What followed after were hours of sirens, shouting, bakugo screaming— his hands becoming full of blisters from hitting every surface he could land his knuckles on. But nothing could stow away the pain that he felt— knowing he hurt you.

nights at the hospital fell dark, distained, depressing. The smell of disinfectant became the new normal for him, staying hours by your side— the tears constantly threatening to fall, and follow along with the threat.

Not once was he leaving your side, nurses, doctors, his friends— begging him to leave for just a moment, take care of himself— but how could they suggest such things when he was the reason you couldn’t take care of yourself?

“Don’t you dare die on me. You hear me? You don’t get to do that! Not after everything — not after you made me—”

His voice breaks.

“—made me love you.”

ミ★✫彡༄

The days stretch into weeks, the machines beeping all around the both of you become a normal sound, overworking themselves to keep you alive, just to give him a little bit of hope that you’ll return— but you never do. 

His world goes silent as the machines flatline, your heartbeat stops, his is stuttering. 

Nurses rushed in. Doctors shouted orders. Bakugo didn’t move. He sat frozen, his grip locked around your hand, knuckles white, face blank.

When they tried to pull him away, he fought like a wild animal, screaming, thrashing, begging, his voice shattering until nothing but broken sobs came out.

And when they finally dragged him from the room, kicking and clawing at the doorframe, his last words tore through the hall like a gunshot:

“COME BACK! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME—NOT YOU—NOT YOU—!”

Then silence.

After that day, Bakugo was never the same. His fire burned too bright, then died with you.

Some nights, Kirishima swore he heard him talking to someone in his dorm room. His voice low. Gentle. Like he was still updating you on the world.

And on his nightstand, beneath the crumpled notebook pages and broken pens, words written on the notebook that he never got to say to you, sat your old hero costume. Washed. Folded. Waiting.

For a return that would never come.

His days all seemed to blend into one, never knowing the time, never understanding the world around him. His voice was never raised once more, the quirk he once took pride in, flaunted across all of japan— now hidden from the rest of the world. How could anyone expect him to use what was once used to hurt you— kill you.

Years passed, he never forgot you, how could he? That smile, the sweet voice that he heard whenever you would tell him off for not being careful, that laugh he heard whenever kaminari did something stupid again.

He was now a pro hero, doing everything he does now for the sake of you, your ghost that he feels walking with him every step of his journey. 

Every mission, every battle, every sleepless night — you were there, in the back of his mind, the shadow he could never outrun. He never said it out loud, but you were the one thing he lost that no victory could replace.

And then, one evening, a patrol cut short by rain drives him into a corner store. He’s pulling down his hood when he hears it — that laugh. That impossible laugh.

His blood turns to ice. He whirls around. And there you are.

Alive.

Laughing.

You were glowing, the scar from where you were hit, the one that ran from the middle of your chest all the way to your shoulders— fully healed. You were alive.

Was this another one of his nightmares? Was he hallucinating? He looked around, thinking this was a prank being played on him. Is it really you?

“y/n..” he called out, voice barely above a whisper— cracking as he attempted to let in a breath.

His chest caves in. “No way…” His voice cracks. “You’re—” His throat burns. “…you’re alive?”

You freeze. The bag of groceries in your hand trembles. Slowly, your eyes widen, glistening with tears you don’t try to hide. “…Katsuki?”

The sound of his name on your lips rips him apart. He doesn’t know if he should scream, or cry, or collapse. 

He approached slowly, afraid if he moved too fast you’d disappear into thin air yet again.

“Is it— is it really you?” he asks, unable to comprehend the sight upon him.

“Yes— yes it really is katsuki. My baby i—” 

Your words cut off my him grabbing you into his chest. His hands grabbing onto your head against his chest like you’ll vanish if he doesn't hold you tight enough. You feel his heartbeat going a thousand beats per second. 

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice is hoarse, breaking under the weight of years. “I—I thought you were dead, damn it!”

You swallow hard, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I almost was. They moved me out, Katsuki. Said it wasn’t safe after what happened. I couldn’t— I couldn’t get back to you.”

He stares, chest heaving, rain dripping off his hair and onto your skin. You’re real. Warm. Alive. His hand shakes as it finally slides down your wrist to lace with your fingers, desperate and trembling.

“Do you have any idea…” His voice breaks. He bows his head, pressing his forehead against yours. “…any fucking idea what it did to me? Thinking you were gone? That I never got to tell you—”

Your breath hitches. “Tell me what?”

His red eyes meet yours, raw and unguarded. “That I love you. That I’ve always loved you. And I’ll never stop, no matter how many goddamn years they try to take from us.”

For a moment, the world is silent but for the rain. And then, slowly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. “Then don’t waste another second.”

The kiss is desperate, years of grief and longing crashing into a single moment — messy, wet from rain and tears, but so real it almost hurts. He clutches you like you’ll disappear if he lets go, pouring every broken piece of himself into you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both trembling, foreheads pressed together.

“Promise me,” you whisper, voice unsteady, “you won’t let me go again.”

“I— I promise baby, I'll never let you go, never leave your side— holy shit you’re still here.” he chuckles.

The kiss leaves both of you breathless, but when you pull back, he’s still chasing you, forehead pressed to yours, ragged breaths fanning across your lips.

“Years,” he growls softly, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “I spent years thinking I’d never get this… never get you. And now you’re here—” He breaks off, swallowing hard, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not holding back anymore.”

The way he looks at you is overwhelming — all fire, all intensity, all the love he’s never been able to say. His hands slide up your arms, firm and desperate, tugging you closer until you’re chest-to-chest, the rain soaking into both your clothes but neither of you caring.

Your reply comes in the form of another kiss — deeper this time, hungrier. His breath hitches against your lips before he gives in completely, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

There’s no space left between you. His mouth moves against yours with a kind of desperation that only years of loss could create — hot, unsteady, a confession in every touch. When he finally tears himself away, both of you are gasping for air, your lips swollen, his eyes burning into yours.

“Tell me this is real,” you whisper.His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in until his lips brush your ear. His voice is rough, breathless, raw: “It’s real. You’re mine. And I’m never letting you go again.”

a/n: HIII i hope you enjoyed part one of this series :p omg i cant tell you how many times i cried writing this btw, i was dying.

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[forestlv4r]

Sneak peak into my new fic👅☺️

ITS OUTTT where it burns pt.1

[forestlv4r]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[forestlv4r]

play birthday sex right fucking now.

22nd birthday? giving him 22 rounds with 22 different positions.

[forestlv4r]

i HATE when fanfic writers perceive choso as a little bottom boy, brainless dude. PLEASE just write him DOM why is he ALWAYS a whiny bottom💔

[forestlv4r]

This song is the perfect example of what you would get if you put toji and sukuna in a studio

[forestlv4r]

Everyday i check my tumblr to see if @manicpixiedreamkira updated her first time series with megumi

[forestlv4r]

TEENAGE FEVER g.satoru x reader

synopsis: you see him at the library, but did it take you too long to catch feelings for him?

warnings: angst, fluff, really long story, mentions of death and alcohol abuse but like very brief, suggestive content.

5.9k words

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

ミ★✫彡༄

The library was quiet. a warm summer evening as the last few exams cram themselves into one last week before summer. The university library was full, sounds of book pages flapping and students whispering their notes to themselves over and over.

somehow, you managed to find an empty table to set your pile of books on. as you settle yourself into your not-so-comfortable chair, a voice interrupts you.

"Hey, is anyone sitting here?" a soft voice asks.

you look up to see a boy about your age, his white hair falls onto his forehead. his blue eyes darting at you as he gives a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"yeah you can sit here it's fine." you say as you continue to do what you were previously doing.

'"thank you." he says before placing his stack of books right next to yours.

"im satoru by the way, gojo satoru." he smiles as he looks towards you through the stack of books with whatever little gap is between the two stacks.

"oh- uhm. im y/n." you smile back, frustrated with the disruption, but still keeping a smile on your face.

You couldn't help but notice that every so often, however, he kept stopping to scribble onto his sketchbook, a small book that sat in the midst of all his psychology and biology books, decorated with a small butterfly sticker that sat in the corner of the worn out book.

ミ★✫彡༄

Countless hours of studying and small glances at satoru later, finally deciding it's time to wrap up this session, you pack your things as you leave the table, giving him a slight smile before you head out.

"Well that's the end of that" you thought, yeah he might be the most gorgeous man you've ever seen before, but it was far beyond the time for you to be oozing over some guy you met three hours ago.

As you settle yourself into bed, you couldn't help but think about where you've seen satoru before.

"satoru...satoru..." you repeat out loud to yourself in an attempt to be able to get any sort of clarification on where you've heard that name before.

perhaps a childhood friend? a family friend? someone that was in your highschool at some point? you brush off the worry that stays in your mind as you doze off to sleep.

ミ★✫彡༄

The loud alarm sound rings through your ears like rings of fire harassing your ears, as you pick up the phone with your eyes still unable to keep open, you attempt to take a look at the time that reads on the screen 7:45AM.

"FUCK" you yell as you hurry up to grab whatever was the nearest piece of fabric to cover yourself up. no time to shower, brush your teeth or even have breakfast. rushing out of the university dorms at a speed that would usain bolt at shame.

"ms.y/n. you're late." the professor firmly commands. "yes yes i'm so sorry i don't know why my alarm rang so late i'm so sorry" you begin to sprout out anything in hopes of forming a sentence that could save you. "you're going to have to take the test later today, I cannot allow you inside the exam hall at this hour." your professor affirmatively says before turning his attention back to his computer.

sighing in defeat as you walk out of the exam hall, settling yourself on a bench that wasn't too far from the classroom knowing you couldn't trust yourself to go back to your dorm and return on time for the test.

"hey- take this" you feel a nudge at your shoulder, it was satoru already seated next to you at the bench.

'what's this?" you question, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, blinking a few more times to see clearly.

"ube bread, i know it's your favorite" he says, hand still out for you to take it from him.

"oh⎯ thanks, how'd you know?" you ask, confusion forming on your face.

"there was a sticker of it on your laptop, i saw it when i was sitting with you at the library."

"oh my god i forgot about that sticker, thank you i appreciate it"

"You should probably go inside the exam hall now, you look like you've had a rough morning," he says, getting up while a shit-eating grin forms on his face.

"yeah you're right⎯ wait what, HEY COME BACK HERE"

And off he goes, you hear that god damning beautiful laugh as he walks away.

god damn it, why are you smiling to yourself, focus on school, satoru won't benefit you in anything right now, before anything you need to make it out of here, why would you even think of such a thi⎯

"ms.y/n! Are you planning to take the test today!?"

"right⎯ sorry."

ミ★✫彡༄

Graduation day

The sun is high, unforgiving even through the thin layer of clouds that attempt to dim its heat. A sea of black gowns, tassels swaying, proud smiles, and tight embraces fills the courtyard. You stand among your classmates, robe swishing slightly as you shift on your feet, scanning the crowd.

There’s pride swelling in your chest, but underneath that quiet and persistent—is something else. A hollow tug, as if something’s unfinished. Or someone.

You haven’t seen Satoru in weeks.

After that morning he handed you the ube bread, you grew used to seeing him—his effortless presence, his annoying yet charming comments, the way he always somehow knew when you were too stressed and needed someone to pull you out of your own head. You started studying together more often. Talking outside the library. Walking home on colder nights, when the moonlight made his white hair glow like silver.

He never pushed. You never confessed. Something about it all felt fragile, like if you said it out loud, it’d break.

So you didn’t.

And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

No replies. No social media posts. No “hey, I’m skipping town.” Just… silence.

You tell yourself maybe he had a reason. Maybe he transferred. Maybe he didn’t owe you anything to begin with. But it still stings.

You force yourself to focus on the ceremony. Cameras flash. Names are called. Applause echoes. Then finally:

“y/n.”

You step up. The applause sounds distant, like it’s happening underwater. As you take your diploma, you feel like it’s not quite real—like the moment you blink, you’ll be back in that hard library chair, glancing up and catching his eyes across the table.

You exhale. It's over.

Except it’s not.

Because when you step down, as you're tucking your diploma under your arm, you hear it—

"Hey, graduate.”

That voice.

You turn, heart lurching up into your throat.

There he is. Satoru. Standing near the courtyard’s edge, just out of the way of the crowd. White shirt tucked under a blazer, hair tousled and a little longer, like he hasn’t bothered to cut it in a while. Same smirk. Same blue eyes. This time, they do reach his smile.

“You’re late,” you say, barely above a whisper.

He shrugs. “You were late to your exam. I figured I owed you one.”

“You disappeared.”

“I did.” A pause. “I had to. There was… stuff going on. Family. Some complicated things I won’t dump on you today.”

“But you could’ve said something.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” His voice softens. “I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

You scoff. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, he holds something out.

A small, beat-up sketchbook. The same one he always carried in the library.

You take it.

“Page thirty-two,” he says.

You flip it open, fingers brushing against the paper. Page one is a rough pencil sketch of the library. Page ten—a hand. Page twenty—a field of flowers. And then, thirty-two.

It’s you.

You, hunched over a book. Laptop open. Sticker of ube bread in clear detail. A faint smile on your lips, drawn with such care it steals your breath.

“I kept drawing you,” he says quietly. “Even when I left.”

You look up at him. “Why?”

He shrugs, but his eyes say what his words don’t. “Maybe I couldn’t stop.”

A warmth creeps up your chest. You close the sketchbook slowly, holding it like it’s something sacred.

“So now what?” you ask.

“I don’t know. You tell me. I heard you’re free this summer.” He steps a little closer. “Unless you’re too focused on school or whatever.”

You laugh, the sound lighter than you’ve felt in weeks. “We just graduated, Satoru.”

“Perfect. That means you’ve got time.”

He offers you his hand, not in the dramatic, romantic way. Just a simple gesture.

You take it.

As the crowd slowly fades and the golden light of late afternoon stretches across the pavement, you walk with him—away from the ceremony, away from uncertainty.

Maybe this time, you’ll say it out loud.

Maybe it won’t break.

Maybe it’ll finally begin.

⠀ ミ★✫彡༄

your whole summer was spent with him. days at the park, evenings at the cinema, nights in his apartment, cooking together, playing together, normal activities friends do.

The unspeakable tension in the room kept growing, the more you tried to ignore it the tougher it got. how could you ignore the thumping feeling in your chest when he wipes something off your face while you're baking together, how could you ignore the days in the park where he picks out your favorite flower for you and puts it in your hair.

you often wondered if he felt the same, the feeling of not wanting to say anything too weird incase he thinks you're weird, but you always still felt at home with him. spending your late nights in your apartment staring at your ceiling instead of sleeping. wondering what he's thinking, surely⎯ there has to be some sort of mutual feelings there, right?

"hey, i need to tell you something, can you meet up later today?"

-satoru

"yeah sure, is everything alright?"

-y/n

"yeah, good news actually, our usual cafe at 6?"

-satoru

"yeah of course"

-y/n

ミ★✫彡༄

picking up your phone, to see the time 5:00PM. just enough time to get ready⎯heading to your closet to find an outfit, not too appealing but enough to bring out the soft features satoru always captures in his sketches of you.

doing light makeup and putting your shoes on, you head out the door to walk to the cafe.

as you walk through the cafe door, the bell at the top ringing grabbing the barista's attention, yet, today she's off. as she sees you she gives you a slight smile that doesn't reach her eyes and points you to satoru's table.

you brush it off thinking maybe it's just not her day. until you turn to see him.

you see her.

he looks at you.

your heart drops.

hands start shaking.

you try to force a smile on your face, his arm around her makes it hard though.

you try, you really do. All you want to do is turn around and run home crying. That's not an option currently, so you head over to the table. cursing every moment of your life that made you end up here.

"hey satoru" you say, still having a weak smile on your face, although the frown is trying to break through.

"y/n, this is my girlfriend, julia." he says, looking a little too happy for your liking.

"hi julia, nice to meet you" your hand reaching across the awkwardly small coffee table to shake her hand.

"Julia this is y/n, she's been my best friend since I was a loser in university." he introduces, raising a half-assed chuckle from her.

"hi y/n" she finally speaks, shaking your hand.

oh great, she has a voice. you wish you could say out-loud, although for now you keep it in your head. it's not her fault you were too scared to say anything to satoru before.

you sit through three excruciating hours of PDA and stories of how they met. wanting to cry or die through every second of it. maybe both.

"hey sorry to interrupt your beautiful story of how you guys met⎯ but i really need to go⎯okay bye." you sprint out of there before either of them could say a word to you. you couldn't stand the fact that he was smiling with someone else, probably drawing her in his sketchbook too.

you've felt that he was acting a bit distant for the past week or two, avoiding your touches, stopped bringing his sketchbook with him to draw you eating strawberries when you guys were having a picnic at the park. and when you asked why he stopped his response was⎯ "i just forgot where i kept the book."

ミ★✫彡༄

The drive home was the worst part yet, the tears making your eyes too blurry for you to see any incoming cars, people honking at you, some even rolling down their window to call you an idiot.

finally making it home, you slam your car door. walking to your apartment and fumbling with the keys to find the right one, seeing the key to satoru's apartment that he gave you months back. only making your crying worse.

you knew better than to let yourself fall for him.

The next week was a blur. forcing yourself to go to work and leave as soon as the clock hits 7, then spending the night in your bed eating junk food and barely taking care of yourself. The texts from satoru slowly stopped coming, from wondering why you left too early that day, to asking why you're not answering your texts, then finally, he stopped.

never bothered to show up at your door.

stopped checking in.

stopped asking about you.

stopped sending you silly tiktoks.

Well, why would he? He has a girlfriend that he is happy and content with.

you're no longer needed in his life.

and he's no longer needed in yours.

you blocked him on everything, all his social media, his number, even his spotify account. you were reading to take on this chapter of your life without him.

the teenage fever you felt with him was officially gone.

ミ★✫彡༄

three years later

you've grown, matured, forgotten about him. yet that polaroid of the both of you still remains on your mirror in your room. reminding you everyday of him.

you've become the successful architect you've always told him you wanted to become. joining a company that was treating you right, your boss was friendly enough, your coworkers were inviting you out to their weekly drinks, and your clients were always easy to work with, although here and there, there were clients that made you want to quit on the spot.

Your next day was like any other for the past two years: you wake up at 6:45AM, shower, brush your teeth, do your skin care, and head over to your closet to pick out your outfit of the day. seeing the polaroid of you and satoru held by a piece of tape on the mirror, making yet another mental note to yourself to remove it when you get home. Which never happens, at least you try.

you are out the door by 7:30AM, just enough time to go by your favorite cafe, and grab your spanish iced latte, yeah you know its basic, but you would never cheat on it.

and you're at your company building by 8:00 AM exactly, everyday, and nothing ever changed. ever.

until. you see him. walking towards the office door from the opposite direction, the whole world around you stops. his hair was a little longer, messier, still the same stupid blue eyes he used to get the last bite of your ube bread.

he wasn't wearing a tie, he never did, always said he hated the suffocating feeling of it around his neck. His suit looked like it was tailored especially for his figure, the white button up under it doing nothing to hide the faint outlines of his abs.

maybe if you turned around and called in sick he wouldn't see you, what was he even doing here?

you begin to turn around to take your leave until you hear it⎯

"y/n?" his voice calls out, still gentle, still soft, still the same voice you fell in love with.

"oh my god it is you" he says as you turn around to his voice, his smile reaching his eyes. He seemed genuinely happy to see you.

"yep, it's me." you say, giving a half-smile to him.

he starts walking towards you, as he goes for a hug, you back up. you didn't mean to, it just happened instinctively.

he frowned, trying to hide it with another smile, this one didn't reach his eyes though.

"I've been trying to reach you for forever, I assumed you just didn't want to be friends anymore" he said, so nonchalantly, so easily like the past three years without you went by like a breeze.

"Are you that dense?" you ask, finally standing your ground from his stupidity.

"what.." he said, genuinely shocked by what you mean.

"Like, are you seriously this stupid? Or are you choosing to ignore everything that we had between us? For years I have loved you. I've done things that weren't like me for you ever since I met you. i've spent my whole summer with you, told you my deepest secrets, called you up first whenever something exciting would happen to me." you cried, the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

"I loved you satoru! You just left me like it was nothing to get into a relationship with a girl you met a week ago! you led me on! this would've all never happened, all the pain you caused me wouldn't have happened if i never fucking met you!" you screamed. sobbing out your words, you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. It was like a word vomit.

"y/n i didn't mean to⎯" he says, his eyes filled with filled with horror, as he tried to grab your hands.

"let go of me!" you yelled, snatching your hands back. you retreat to running inside of the building. leaving him standing there. alone.

The tears wouldn't stop coming, as you ran through the halls of your building, people tried to stop you and ask you what's wrong, but all you could do was run to the nearest bathroom and sob your eyes out.

Why would you still care? this was years ago, you've healed. at least you think so.

ミ★✫彡༄

you've been avoiding satoru like he was the plague for the past month, you learnt that he comes in around the same time as you, so you put in the request to start thirty minutes later, which got accepted.

Another very crucial piece of information that everyone forgot to mention to you was that Satoru was the CEO of the company you're working at.

the day you learnt that you put in your resignation letter and immediately started job searching.

it was another excruciating day at the job, you sat at your desk, the voices of all your coworkers planning the next place to go have their weekly drinks, which you've been declining to go to lately but they never stop asking.

"hey y/n, are you joining us today?" your coworker angela asks, a sweet woman that always asks how you've been everyday since she saw you crying.

"not today, you guys go enjoy your night" you reply, giving her a genuine smile that doesn't show your teeth.

"Okay goodnight" she replies before following up with the rest of the group to the elevator.

you continue to sketch the design for the building you client wants, deciding to stay late to avoid meeting satoru at the gate for the fifth time this week.

The silence of the office is deafening. you hear the footsteps of the higher ups leaving towards the office, a few of them seeing you and waving goodbye to you before heading out.

until you spot satoru, immediately avoiding his gaze till you hear him telling the higher ups to continue without him because he forgot something in his office.

you hear his footsteps approaching you after he makes sure they're all gone.

immediately to start packing up your stuff to leave, you are not about to have this conversation with him today.

"sit." he commands.

"Excuse me?" you question, giving him a frown for the audacity.

"as your ceo i am asking you to sit, i have an important matter to discuss with you." he says, well fuck he got you there. I guess you are about to have this conversation with him.

"If it's not work related, I'm not interested." you say, crossing your arms.

"gosh y/n." he says, rubbing his temple. "It is a work matter now, can we please talk..." he says, his voice is softer, you can see he's trying to be gentle with you.

you sit down at your desk, as he grabs a chair from another desk next to you.

"Why are you quitting?" he asks, his once bright blue eyes darken, his pupils fully dilated. the warm brownish lights reflecting on his hair, he looks tense, but the moment feels relaxed.

"I found another job." You say sternly, no matter how gorgeous he looks right now, you cannot put yourself in the same shoes you put your nineteen year old self in.

"you're lying," he says. "maybe if you're going to lie at least don't search up architecture job openings on your work computer."

"Now you're stalking my search history?" you raise a brow.

"y/n⎯ stop putting words in my mouth" he sighs, rubbing his temples.

"but you literally are, how else would you know tha⎯"

"I broke up with her." He finally cuts you off.

"what⎯ " Why are you even asking? You couldn't care less.

"she cheated on me⎯ long story my point is⎯ i want to make it up to you." he says, his voice deep, soft, genuine.

"you can't just lead me on, forget about me and once you find me you give me a pity 'i wanna make it up to you' " you speak

"i didn't forget about you" he says, "you were running through my mind for the past three years. At some point, Julia was about to break up with me because I couldn't stop worrying about you." he says, this time looking down at the ground. "She said if I ever texted you again, she'd leave me, and I'd already thought you didn't want me to be in your life anymore after I introduced you to her so I decided to stop messaging you because I would've lost her too."

"and i couldn't handle someone else important in my life leaving me." his voice cracks.

flashback

he'd told you about his sister one day in the park, when he was sketching you, you'd seen the butterfly sticker once again, and decided to ask about it.

"my little sister" says, getting quiet.

"oh, what's her name?" you ask enthusiastically.

"it was Lia"

"was?"

"She passed away two years ago. my high-school graduation day." his voice cracks, "my dad had not gotten over my mom's death that happened six months prior, and he started drinking." "turns out that same day he drank before he drove to my graduation, and crashed before they could see me." he cried. "she gave me this sticker a day before, when i was sketching her while she was in my room"

you started tearing up, grabbing satoru to your chest as he cried for the first time in front of you.

"Is that why you skipped town weeks before graduation?" you ask, voice as gentle and soft as ever.

"yeah" he sniffed, "i didn't want to remember it all over again."

you hugged him tighter.

end of flashback

"satoru i didn't mean for that to happen⎯" you speak, softening your voice. "you know, lia never left you." you say grabbing his hand.

he just looks at you.

"please let me make it up for you, just⎯ just dont leave. stay here⎯ please." he says, grabbing your hand back.

"i⎯ i promise i won't."

he smiles at you, a genuine, real smile.

ミ★✫彡༄

It's been about two weeks since the conversation you've had with satoru. He's since been sending flowers to your desk every single day.

and does not miss a day. Every bouquet comes with a note writing one thing he loves about you. your coworkers never stopped talking about how they think is your "new boyfriend" as per angela's words, she says rolling her eyes to you in the break room. "i just hate gossiping, but⎯ you know, who is sending you the flowers?" she asks.

you know her intentions don't mean harm, and she would never go gossip⎯ let alone tell the others who's sending you the flowers.

"satoru." you say shyly, looking down at the suddenly very interesting sandwich on your table.

"WHAT" she yells, the coworkers having a conversation outside the break room looking your way due to her voice.

"hush! keep it down and don't! Tell anyone, Angela, I'm serious." you say, gesturing to her to keep her voice down with your hands.

"im sorry but⎯ gojo satoru!?" she hush-yells.

"yes⎯yes the gojo satoru" you sigh.

ever since that conversation you've had with him, you've both decided to take things slow, not wanting to ruin it by rushing.

you sit on satoru's couch in his office, waiting for him to finish his work call. He'd promised you lunch at your favorite restaurant tonight as a way of his 'making it up to you' but you know he's just hungry, and maybe does actually want to make it up to you.

"no⎯you idiot you cannot add that to the design the whole building will collapse⎯jesus you know what, do what you want but im not paying for the lawyer you're going to need." he yells before hanging up on the client.

"is that how you speak to clients" you chuckle, walking up to the front of his desk.

"they're all stupid" he frowns, walking up to you.

"you however, look gorgeous today⎯ and every other day, but something's in the air today" he smiles, grabbing your waist.

"hm, must be my excitement for the restaurant, or you're just a freak" you give him a wink, chuckling as you walk out of his office to the elevator. leaving him stunned behind.

"hey!⎯ you can't talk to your ceo like that!" he catches up to you.

ミ★✫彡༄

"you know⎯ i really like you." he starts, "i got with julia because, i thought you'd never like me back, so i tried getting over my feelings with you. once i found out you liked me i realized i fucked up and should've just talked to you⎯ but it was too late." he says, grabbing your hand across the restaurant table.

"you never lost me satoru⎯ when we leave here, i wanna show you something back at my house" you blush.

"already? i thought we were taking it slow" he jokes, a chuckle escaping from his chest. he smiled exactly like how he did when you were just teens.

"Satoru!" you hush yell, slapping his hand.

"after you m'lady" he says, bowing stupidly to you as he opens your car door.

you chuckle, blushing. "thank you kind sir" you bow back.

you both laugh as you walk up to your apartment, he notices his keys still on your keychain.

"You kept my apartment keys?" he asks.

"oh⎯ i just⎯ never thought to take them off, i don't know" you speak, embarrassed.

"cute." he briefly says, brushing it off as he walks inside behind you.

"so⎯ what did you wanna show me" he looks around, noticing how nothing about your apartment changed.

"Come" you say, grabbing his hand, leading him to your room.

He walks in and immediately spots it. the polaroid.

"you⎯ you kept it?" he walks up to the mirror, looking at the polaroid that caught both of your smiles from when you were nineteen.

"yeah, always made a mental note to remove it, but⎯ something in me didn't want me to" you shyly smile.

he looks at you through the mirror as he turns around and grabs your waist.

"y/n⎯ i love you." you say looking into your eyes, you've never seen his face so softened and relaxed before. his white hair falling onto his forehead as he never stops looking into your eyes.

"I love you too," you smile.

He kisses you. hard, and needy.

"I've been wanting to do this forever, you don't understand." he says. going back to kissing you harder, needier.

you both fall onto your bed, he lands on top of you but you both never stopped kissing.

ミ★✫彡༄

three months later

you wake up, blinking the sleep off of your eyes as you grab your phone to look at the time, 7:30AM.

"SATORU WAKE UP WE'RE LATE AGAIN" you yell, jumping up from his bed, putting on the nearest piece of clothing you found.

"baby⎯ i'm the ceo, i can-not come in if i want to" he says, closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

"YEAH BUT I'M NOT⎯ I CAN'T BE LATE AGAIN THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK AND WHAT IF I GET FIR⎯"

"And who's going to do that genius?" he cuts you off.

you stop in your tracks.

"oh⎯ you're right." you speak, relieved but defeated as you sit on the edge of his bed.

"come back"

"but we need to go⎯"

"please baby" he says, propping himself up on his elbows, giving you the puppy eyes.

"We need to get you brown contacts." you say, getting back in bed with him.

"I'll add it to my schedule" he sighs contently, holding you tighter to him.

"you're lucky you're his girlfriend," Angela says, sipping her coffee as she stands next to you in the break room while you make yours.

you chuckle. "I always tell him we're late and he lets the cockyness of being a CEO get to him," you smile.

"hm yeah" "im sure its that" she winks at you as she walks out the door.

"angela!" you yell.

"freaks!" she yells back.

you roll your eyes as you continue making your coffee.

"what's that about" satoru questions as he walks into the break room. hugging you from behind.

"nothing⎯ and no pda" you snicker.

"my baddd" he says rolling his eyes and putting his hands up like he got caught.

"i have two things i want to tell you"

"shoot"

"okay first, tomorrow⎯ day off for the both of us because i want a date night and no stress of work in the morning."

"And second," you ask, facing him.

"i want you to be my secretary" he smiles

"what⎯ but that position is already taken i can't just⎯"

"you will⎯ or no work, you practically live with me and i'm obviously providing for you⎯ speaking of why aren't you moved in with me, besides the point i don't want you working, but having you next to me everyday would better" he leans on the counter next to you.

"fine⎯ but we're sending your current secretary a gift basket and flowers" you say starting to walk out.

"Whatever you want my sweet princess" he chuckles, giving you a kiss on your cheek before heading out the other way to his office.

ミ★✫彡༄

The date night was relaxed, satoru's living room lights were dim, you were sitting on the ground in front of his couch, waiting for him to bring the steak to the coffee table in front of you.

"and here is the food" he says, placing down each plate carefully, as proud of himself as ever.

"I have one more gift," he smiles, his voice soft.

He comes back from inside the room with a book. you recognise it. It was his old sketchbook. but new.

"I bought this sketch book, the same as my old one, when we stopped talking." he says, sitting on the ground next to you. " I've made this book specifically for you. i never stopped drawing you y/n. every time i missed you i drew you, which was all the time."

you take the book from his hold as you flip through each drawing, he draws you in every perspective, all the sketches labeled with the date, starting from three years prior.

every sketch you flipped through had focused on a new feature of you, your light freckles, your dark eye color that he managed to capture so bright, your smile when you were eating a chocolate strawberry.

"Satoru this is⎯ i can't believe this" you say.

"page three-hundred-sixty-five." he says, softly smiling at your expressions.

as you flip through the book to find the page you see it. a sketch of you flashing a big wedding right, your smile captured perfectly in the drawing.

as you look up at satoru, you see the tiny box in his hand, your eyes widen.

"y/n. will you marry me" satoru asks as he opens the box, the same wedding ring as the sketch is in the box.

your eyes start to water as you look at him, your lips quivering.

"yes!" you yell, jumping onto him wrapping yourself around him as you cry.

He stumbles back a little as you jump into his arms, letting out a surprised laugh, but he catches you like it was always meant to happen — like you’ve always belonged there, in his arms, like this.

You bury your face into his neck, tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, and his arms tighten around you.

“You idiot,” you whisper through your tears, your voice shaking. “You really kept that sketchbook all this time?”

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, a smile playing at his lips as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Did you think I wasn’t serious about you?”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing away the strands of white hair sticking to his forehead. He’s smiling now — truly smiling. Not the playful smirks or sarcastic grins he used to flash across the library table. But something real. Gentle. Almost shy.

“I didn’t think…” You shake your head, laughing softly. “I just never imagined this.”

“I did,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “From the moment I saw you talking to your books like they owed you rent in that quiet library corner.”

You laugh again, and he leans in to kiss you — soft and sure, like he’s sealing a promise he made long before today.

When you finally pull apart, he slides the ring onto your finger — the same design he’d once doodled absentmindedly in the margins of his sketchbook, right next to your smiling face.

It fits perfectly.

The city buzzes behind you. The lights blur in the corners of your vision. But none of it matters. Not really.

Because in that moment — wrapped in his arms, heart beating wildly, the weight of the ring grounding you in something that feels both terrifying and beautiful.

he kisses you again, this time it feels different.

it's your soon to be husband kissing you.

ミ★✫彡༄

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

author's notes: thank you guys so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!

taglist:

[forestlv4r]

TEENAGE FEVER g.satoru x reader

synopsis: you see him at the library, but did it take you too long to catch feelings for him?

warnings: angst, fluff, really long story, mentions of death and alcohol abuse but like very brief, suggestive content.

5.9k words

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

ミ★✫彡༄

The library was quiet. a warm summer evening as the last few exams cram themselves into one last week before summer. The university library was full, sounds of book pages flapping and students whispering their notes to themselves over and over.

somehow, you managed to find an empty table to set your pile of books on. as you settle yourself into your not-so-comfortable chair, a voice interrupts you.

"Hey, is anyone sitting here?" a soft voice asks.

you look up to see a boy about your age, his white hair falls onto his forehead. his blue eyes darting at you as he gives a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"yeah you can sit here it's fine." you say as you continue to do what you were previously doing.

'"thank you." he says before placing his stack of books right next to yours.

"im satoru by the way, gojo satoru." he smiles as he looks towards you through the stack of books with whatever little gap is between the two stacks.

"oh- uhm. im y/n." you smile back, frustrated with the disruption, but still keeping a smile on your face.

You couldn't help but notice that every so often, however, he kept stopping to scribble onto his sketchbook, a small book that sat in the midst of all his psychology and biology books, decorated with a small butterfly sticker that sat in the corner of the worn out book.

ミ★✫彡༄

Countless hours of studying and small glances at satoru later, finally deciding it's time to wrap up this session, you pack your things as you leave the table, giving him a slight smile before you head out.

"Well that's the end of that" you thought, yeah he might be the most gorgeous man you've ever seen before, but it was far beyond the time for you to be oozing over some guy you met three hours ago.

As you settle yourself into bed, you couldn't help but think about where you've seen satoru before.

"satoru...satoru..." you repeat out loud to yourself in an attempt to be able to get any sort of clarification on where you've heard that name before.

perhaps a childhood friend? a family friend? someone that was in your highschool at some point? you brush off the worry that stays in your mind as you doze off to sleep.

ミ★✫彡༄

The loud alarm sound rings through your ears like rings of fire harassing your ears, as you pick up the phone with your eyes still unable to keep open, you attempt to take a look at the time that reads on the screen 7:45AM.

"FUCK" you yell as you hurry up to grab whatever was the nearest piece of fabric to cover yourself up. no time to shower, brush your teeth or even have breakfast. rushing out of the university dorms at a speed that would usain bolt at shame.

"ms.y/n. you're late." the professor firmly commands. "yes yes i'm so sorry i don't know why my alarm rang so late i'm so sorry" you begin to sprout out anything in hopes of forming a sentence that could save you. "you're going to have to take the test later today, I cannot allow you inside the exam hall at this hour." your professor affirmatively says before turning his attention back to his computer.

sighing in defeat as you walk out of the exam hall, settling yourself on a bench that wasn't too far from the classroom knowing you couldn't trust yourself to go back to your dorm and return on time for the test.

"hey- take this" you feel a nudge at your shoulder, it was satoru already seated next to you at the bench.

'what's this?" you question, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, blinking a few more times to see clearly.

"ube bread, i know it's your favorite" he says, hand still out for you to take it from him.

"oh⎯ thanks, how'd you know?" you ask, confusion forming on your face.

"there was a sticker of it on your laptop, i saw it when i was sitting with you at the library."

"oh my god i forgot about that sticker, thank you i appreciate it"

"You should probably go inside the exam hall now, you look like you've had a rough morning," he says, getting up while a shit-eating grin forms on his face.

"yeah you're right⎯ wait what, HEY COME BACK HERE"

And off he goes, you hear that god damning beautiful laugh as he walks away.

god damn it, why are you smiling to yourself, focus on school, satoru won't benefit you in anything right now, before anything you need to make it out of here, why would you even think of such a thi⎯

"ms.y/n! Are you planning to take the test today!?"

"right⎯ sorry."

ミ★✫彡༄

Graduation day

The sun is high, unforgiving even through the thin layer of clouds that attempt to dim its heat. A sea of black gowns, tassels swaying, proud smiles, and tight embraces fills the courtyard. You stand among your classmates, robe swishing slightly as you shift on your feet, scanning the crowd.

There’s pride swelling in your chest, but underneath that quiet and persistent—is something else. A hollow tug, as if something’s unfinished. Or someone.

You haven’t seen Satoru in weeks.

After that morning he handed you the ube bread, you grew used to seeing him—his effortless presence, his annoying yet charming comments, the way he always somehow knew when you were too stressed and needed someone to pull you out of your own head. You started studying together more often. Talking outside the library. Walking home on colder nights, when the moonlight made his white hair glow like silver.

He never pushed. You never confessed. Something about it all felt fragile, like if you said it out loud, it’d break.

So you didn’t.

And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

No replies. No social media posts. No “hey, I’m skipping town.” Just… silence.

You tell yourself maybe he had a reason. Maybe he transferred. Maybe he didn’t owe you anything to begin with. But it still stings.

You force yourself to focus on the ceremony. Cameras flash. Names are called. Applause echoes. Then finally:

“y/n.”

You step up. The applause sounds distant, like it’s happening underwater. As you take your diploma, you feel like it’s not quite real—like the moment you blink, you’ll be back in that hard library chair, glancing up and catching his eyes across the table.

You exhale. It's over.

Except it’s not.

Because when you step down, as you're tucking your diploma under your arm, you hear it—

"Hey, graduate.”

That voice.

You turn, heart lurching up into your throat.

There he is. Satoru. Standing near the courtyard’s edge, just out of the way of the crowd. White shirt tucked under a blazer, hair tousled and a little longer, like he hasn’t bothered to cut it in a while. Same smirk. Same blue eyes. This time, they do reach his smile.

“You’re late,” you say, barely above a whisper.

He shrugs. “You were late to your exam. I figured I owed you one.”

“You disappeared.”

“I did.” A pause. “I had to. There was… stuff going on. Family. Some complicated things I won’t dump on you today.”

“But you could’ve said something.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” His voice softens. “I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

You scoff. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, he holds something out.

A small, beat-up sketchbook. The same one he always carried in the library.

You take it.

“Page thirty-two,” he says.

You flip it open, fingers brushing against the paper. Page one is a rough pencil sketch of the library. Page ten—a hand. Page twenty—a field of flowers. And then, thirty-two.

It’s you.

You, hunched over a book. Laptop open. Sticker of ube bread in clear detail. A faint smile on your lips, drawn with such care it steals your breath.

“I kept drawing you,” he says quietly. “Even when I left.”

You look up at him. “Why?”

He shrugs, but his eyes say what his words don’t. “Maybe I couldn’t stop.”

A warmth creeps up your chest. You close the sketchbook slowly, holding it like it’s something sacred.

“So now what?” you ask.

“I don’t know. You tell me. I heard you’re free this summer.” He steps a little closer. “Unless you’re too focused on school or whatever.”

You laugh, the sound lighter than you’ve felt in weeks. “We just graduated, Satoru.”

“Perfect. That means you’ve got time.”

He offers you his hand, not in the dramatic, romantic way. Just a simple gesture.

You take it.

As the crowd slowly fades and the golden light of late afternoon stretches across the pavement, you walk with him—away from the ceremony, away from uncertainty.

Maybe this time, you’ll say it out loud.

Maybe it won’t break.

Maybe it’ll finally begin.

⠀ ミ★✫彡༄

your whole summer was spent with him. days at the park, evenings at the cinema, nights in his apartment, cooking together, playing together, normal activities friends do.

The unspeakable tension in the room kept growing, the more you tried to ignore it the tougher it got. how could you ignore the thumping feeling in your chest when he wipes something off your face while you're baking together, how could you ignore the days in the park where he picks out your favorite flower for you and puts it in your hair.

you often wondered if he felt the same, the feeling of not wanting to say anything too weird incase he thinks you're weird, but you always still felt at home with him. spending your late nights in your apartment staring at your ceiling instead of sleeping. wondering what he's thinking, surely⎯ there has to be some sort of mutual feelings there, right?

"hey, i need to tell you something, can you meet up later today?"

-satoru

"yeah sure, is everything alright?"

-y/n

"yeah, good news actually, our usual cafe at 6?"

-satoru

"yeah of course"

-y/n

ミ★✫彡༄

picking up your phone, to see the time 5:00PM. just enough time to get ready⎯heading to your closet to find an outfit, not too appealing but enough to bring out the soft features satoru always captures in his sketches of you.

doing light makeup and putting your shoes on, you head out the door to walk to the cafe.

as you walk through the cafe door, the bell at the top ringing grabbing the barista's attention, yet, today she's off. as she sees you she gives you a slight smile that doesn't reach her eyes and points you to satoru's table.

you brush it off thinking maybe it's just not her day. until you turn to see him.

you see her.

he looks at you.

your heart drops.

hands start shaking.

you try to force a smile on your face, his arm around her makes it hard though.

you try, you really do. All you want to do is turn around and run home crying. That's not an option currently, so you head over to the table. cursing every moment of your life that made you end up here.

"hey satoru" you say, still having a weak smile on your face, although the frown is trying to break through.

"y/n, this is my girlfriend, julia." he says, looking a little too happy for your liking.

"hi julia, nice to meet you" your hand reaching across the awkwardly small coffee table to shake her hand.

"Julia this is y/n, she's been my best friend since I was a loser in university." he introduces, raising a half-assed chuckle from her.

"hi y/n" she finally speaks, shaking your hand.

oh great, she has a voice. you wish you could say out-loud, although for now you keep it in your head. it's not her fault you were too scared to say anything to satoru before.

you sit through three excruciating hours of PDA and stories of how they met. wanting to cry or die through every second of it. maybe both.

"hey sorry to interrupt your beautiful story of how you guys met⎯ but i really need to go⎯okay bye." you sprint out of there before either of them could say a word to you. you couldn't stand the fact that he was smiling with someone else, probably drawing her in his sketchbook too.

you've felt that he was acting a bit distant for the past week or two, avoiding your touches, stopped bringing his sketchbook with him to draw you eating strawberries when you guys were having a picnic at the park. and when you asked why he stopped his response was⎯ "i just forgot where i kept the book."

ミ★✫彡༄

The drive home was the worst part yet, the tears making your eyes too blurry for you to see any incoming cars, people honking at you, some even rolling down their window to call you an idiot.

finally making it home, you slam your car door. walking to your apartment and fumbling with the keys to find the right one, seeing the key to satoru's apartment that he gave you months back. only making your crying worse.

you knew better than to let yourself fall for him.

The next week was a blur. forcing yourself to go to work and leave as soon as the clock hits 7, then spending the night in your bed eating junk food and barely taking care of yourself. The texts from satoru slowly stopped coming, from wondering why you left too early that day, to asking why you're not answering your texts, then finally, he stopped.

never bothered to show up at your door.

stopped checking in.

stopped asking about you.

stopped sending you silly tiktoks.

Well, why would he? He has a girlfriend that he is happy and content with.

you're no longer needed in his life.

and he's no longer needed in yours.

you blocked him on everything, all his social media, his number, even his spotify account. you were reading to take on this chapter of your life without him.

the teenage fever you felt with him was officially gone.

ミ★✫彡༄

three years later

you've grown, matured, forgotten about him. yet that polaroid of the both of you still remains on your mirror in your room. reminding you everyday of him.

you've become the successful architect you've always told him you wanted to become. joining a company that was treating you right, your boss was friendly enough, your coworkers were inviting you out to their weekly drinks, and your clients were always easy to work with, although here and there, there were clients that made you want to quit on the spot.

Your next day was like any other for the past two years: you wake up at 6:45AM, shower, brush your teeth, do your skin care, and head over to your closet to pick out your outfit of the day. seeing the polaroid of you and satoru held by a piece of tape on the mirror, making yet another mental note to yourself to remove it when you get home. Which never happens, at least you try.

you are out the door by 7:30AM, just enough time to go by your favorite cafe, and grab your spanish iced latte, yeah you know its basic, but you would never cheat on it.

and you're at your company building by 8:00 AM exactly, everyday, and nothing ever changed. ever.

until. you see him. walking towards the office door from the opposite direction, the whole world around you stops. his hair was a little longer, messier, still the same stupid blue eyes he used to get the last bite of your ube bread.

he wasn't wearing a tie, he never did, always said he hated the suffocating feeling of it around his neck. His suit looked like it was tailored especially for his figure, the white button up under it doing nothing to hide the faint outlines of his abs.

maybe if you turned around and called in sick he wouldn't see you, what was he even doing here?

you begin to turn around to take your leave until you hear it⎯

"y/n?" his voice calls out, still gentle, still soft, still the same voice you fell in love with.

"oh my god it is you" he says as you turn around to his voice, his smile reaching his eyes. He seemed genuinely happy to see you.

"yep, it's me." you say, giving a half-smile to him.

he starts walking towards you, as he goes for a hug, you back up. you didn't mean to, it just happened instinctively.

he frowned, trying to hide it with another smile, this one didn't reach his eyes though.

"I've been trying to reach you for forever, I assumed you just didn't want to be friends anymore" he said, so nonchalantly, so easily like the past three years without you went by like a breeze.

"Are you that dense?" you ask, finally standing your ground from his stupidity.

"what.." he said, genuinely shocked by what you mean.

"Like, are you seriously this stupid? Or are you choosing to ignore everything that we had between us? For years I have loved you. I've done things that weren't like me for you ever since I met you. i've spent my whole summer with you, told you my deepest secrets, called you up first whenever something exciting would happen to me." you cried, the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

"I loved you satoru! You just left me like it was nothing to get into a relationship with a girl you met a week ago! you led me on! this would've all never happened, all the pain you caused me wouldn't have happened if i never fucking met you!" you screamed. sobbing out your words, you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. It was like a word vomit.

"y/n i didn't mean to⎯" he says, his eyes filled with filled with horror, as he tried to grab your hands.

"let go of me!" you yelled, snatching your hands back. you retreat to running inside of the building. leaving him standing there. alone.

The tears wouldn't stop coming, as you ran through the halls of your building, people tried to stop you and ask you what's wrong, but all you could do was run to the nearest bathroom and sob your eyes out.

Why would you still care? this was years ago, you've healed. at least you think so.

ミ★✫彡༄

you've been avoiding satoru like he was the plague for the past month, you learnt that he comes in around the same time as you, so you put in the request to start thirty minutes later, which got accepted.

Another very crucial piece of information that everyone forgot to mention to you was that Satoru was the CEO of the company you're working at.

the day you learnt that you put in your resignation letter and immediately started job searching.

it was another excruciating day at the job, you sat at your desk, the voices of all your coworkers planning the next place to go have their weekly drinks, which you've been declining to go to lately but they never stop asking.

"hey y/n, are you joining us today?" your coworker angela asks, a sweet woman that always asks how you've been everyday since she saw you crying.

"not today, you guys go enjoy your night" you reply, giving her a genuine smile that doesn't show your teeth.

"Okay goodnight" she replies before following up with the rest of the group to the elevator.

you continue to sketch the design for the building you client wants, deciding to stay late to avoid meeting satoru at the gate for the fifth time this week.

The silence of the office is deafening. you hear the footsteps of the higher ups leaving towards the office, a few of them seeing you and waving goodbye to you before heading out.

until you spot satoru, immediately avoiding his gaze till you hear him telling the higher ups to continue without him because he forgot something in his office.

you hear his footsteps approaching you after he makes sure they're all gone.

immediately to start packing up your stuff to leave, you are not about to have this conversation with him today.

"sit." he commands.

"Excuse me?" you question, giving him a frown for the audacity.

"as your ceo i am asking you to sit, i have an important matter to discuss with you." he says, well fuck he got you there. I guess you are about to have this conversation with him.

"If it's not work related, I'm not interested." you say, crossing your arms.

"gosh y/n." he says, rubbing his temple. "It is a work matter now, can we please talk..." he says, his voice is softer, you can see he's trying to be gentle with you.

you sit down at your desk, as he grabs a chair from another desk next to you.

"Why are you quitting?" he asks, his once bright blue eyes darken, his pupils fully dilated. the warm brownish lights reflecting on his hair, he looks tense, but the moment feels relaxed.

"I found another job." You say sternly, no matter how gorgeous he looks right now, you cannot put yourself in the same shoes you put your nineteen year old self in.

"you're lying," he says. "maybe if you're going to lie at least don't search up architecture job openings on your work computer."

"Now you're stalking my search history?" you raise a brow.

"y/n⎯ stop putting words in my mouth" he sighs, rubbing his temples.

"but you literally are, how else would you know tha⎯"

"I broke up with her." He finally cuts you off.

"what⎯ " Why are you even asking? You couldn't care less.

"she cheated on me⎯ long story my point is⎯ i want to make it up to you." he says, his voice deep, soft, genuine.

"you can't just lead me on, forget about me and once you find me you give me a pity 'i wanna make it up to you' " you speak

"i didn't forget about you" he says, "you were running through my mind for the past three years. At some point, Julia was about to break up with me because I couldn't stop worrying about you." he says, this time looking down at the ground. "She said if I ever texted you again, she'd leave me, and I'd already thought you didn't want me to be in your life anymore after I introduced you to her so I decided to stop messaging you because I would've lost her too."

"and i couldn't handle someone else important in my life leaving me." his voice cracks.

flashback

he'd told you about his sister one day in the park, when he was sketching you, you'd seen the butterfly sticker once again, and decided to ask about it.

"my little sister" says, getting quiet.

"oh, what's her name?" you ask enthusiastically.

"it was Lia"

"was?"

"She passed away two years ago. my high-school graduation day." his voice cracks, "my dad had not gotten over my mom's death that happened six months prior, and he started drinking." "turns out that same day he drank before he drove to my graduation, and crashed before they could see me." he cried. "she gave me this sticker a day before, when i was sketching her while she was in my room"

you started tearing up, grabbing satoru to your chest as he cried for the first time in front of you.

"Is that why you skipped town weeks before graduation?" you ask, voice as gentle and soft as ever.

"yeah" he sniffed, "i didn't want to remember it all over again."

you hugged him tighter.

end of flashback

"satoru i didn't mean for that to happen⎯" you speak, softening your voice. "you know, lia never left you." you say grabbing his hand.

he just looks at you.

"please let me make it up for you, just⎯ just dont leave. stay here⎯ please." he says, grabbing your hand back.

"i⎯ i promise i won't."

he smiles at you, a genuine, real smile.

ミ★✫彡༄

It's been about two weeks since the conversation you've had with satoru. He's since been sending flowers to your desk every single day.

and does not miss a day. Every bouquet comes with a note writing one thing he loves about you. your coworkers never stopped talking about how they think is your "new boyfriend" as per angela's words, she says rolling her eyes to you in the break room. "i just hate gossiping, but⎯ you know, who is sending you the flowers?" she asks.

you know her intentions don't mean harm, and she would never go gossip⎯ let alone tell the others who's sending you the flowers.

"satoru." you say shyly, looking down at the suddenly very interesting sandwich on your table.

"WHAT" she yells, the coworkers having a conversation outside the break room looking your way due to her voice.

"hush! keep it down and don't! Tell anyone, Angela, I'm serious." you say, gesturing to her to keep her voice down with your hands.

"im sorry but⎯ gojo satoru!?" she hush-yells.

"yes⎯yes the gojo satoru" you sigh.

ever since that conversation you've had with him, you've both decided to take things slow, not wanting to ruin it by rushing.

you sit on satoru's couch in his office, waiting for him to finish his work call. He'd promised you lunch at your favorite restaurant tonight as a way of his 'making it up to you' but you know he's just hungry, and maybe does actually want to make it up to you.

"no⎯you idiot you cannot add that to the design the whole building will collapse⎯jesus you know what, do what you want but im not paying for the lawyer you're going to need." he yells before hanging up on the client.

"is that how you speak to clients" you chuckle, walking up to the front of his desk.

"they're all stupid" he frowns, walking up to you.

"you however, look gorgeous today⎯ and every other day, but something's in the air today" he smiles, grabbing your waist.

"hm, must be my excitement for the restaurant, or you're just a freak" you give him a wink, chuckling as you walk out of his office to the elevator. leaving him stunned behind.

"hey!⎯ you can't talk to your ceo like that!" he catches up to you.

ミ★✫彡༄

"you know⎯ i really like you." he starts, "i got with julia because, i thought you'd never like me back, so i tried getting over my feelings with you. once i found out you liked me i realized i fucked up and should've just talked to you⎯ but it was too late." he says, grabbing your hand across the restaurant table.

"you never lost me satoru⎯ when we leave here, i wanna show you something back at my house" you blush.

"already? i thought we were taking it slow" he jokes, a chuckle escaping from his chest. he smiled exactly like how he did when you were just teens.

"Satoru!" you hush yell, slapping his hand.

"after you m'lady" he says, bowing stupidly to you as he opens your car door.

you chuckle, blushing. "thank you kind sir" you bow back.

you both laugh as you walk up to your apartment, he notices his keys still on your keychain.

"You kept my apartment keys?" he asks.

"oh⎯ i just⎯ never thought to take them off, i don't know" you speak, embarrassed.

"cute." he briefly says, brushing it off as he walks inside behind you.

"so⎯ what did you wanna show me" he looks around, noticing how nothing about your apartment changed.

"Come" you say, grabbing his hand, leading him to your room.

He walks in and immediately spots it. the polaroid.

"you⎯ you kept it?" he walks up to the mirror, looking at the polaroid that caught both of your smiles from when you were nineteen.

"yeah, always made a mental note to remove it, but⎯ something in me didn't want me to" you shyly smile.

he looks at you through the mirror as he turns around and grabs your waist.

"y/n⎯ i love you." you say looking into your eyes, you've never seen his face so softened and relaxed before. his white hair falling onto his forehead as he never stops looking into your eyes.

"I love you too," you smile.

He kisses you. hard, and needy.

"I've been wanting to do this forever, you don't understand." he says. going back to kissing you harder, needier.

you both fall onto your bed, he lands on top of you but you both never stopped kissing.

ミ★✫彡༄

three months later

you wake up, blinking the sleep off of your eyes as you grab your phone to look at the time, 7:30AM.

"SATORU WAKE UP WE'RE LATE AGAIN" you yell, jumping up from his bed, putting on the nearest piece of clothing you found.

"baby⎯ i'm the ceo, i can-not come in if i want to" he says, closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

"YEAH BUT I'M NOT⎯ I CAN'T BE LATE AGAIN THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK AND WHAT IF I GET FIR⎯"

"And who's going to do that genius?" he cuts you off.

you stop in your tracks.

"oh⎯ you're right." you speak, relieved but defeated as you sit on the edge of his bed.

"come back"

"but we need to go⎯"

"please baby" he says, propping himself up on his elbows, giving you the puppy eyes.

"We need to get you brown contacts." you say, getting back in bed with him.

"I'll add it to my schedule" he sighs contently, holding you tighter to him.

"you're lucky you're his girlfriend," Angela says, sipping her coffee as she stands next to you in the break room while you make yours.

you chuckle. "I always tell him we're late and he lets the cockyness of being a CEO get to him," you smile.

"hm yeah" "im sure its that" she winks at you as she walks out the door.

"angela!" you yell.

"freaks!" she yells back.

you roll your eyes as you continue making your coffee.

"what's that about" satoru questions as he walks into the break room. hugging you from behind.

"nothing⎯ and no pda" you snicker.

"my baddd" he says rolling his eyes and putting his hands up like he got caught.

"i have two things i want to tell you"

"shoot"

"okay first, tomorrow⎯ day off for the both of us because i want a date night and no stress of work in the morning."

"And second," you ask, facing him.

"i want you to be my secretary" he smiles

"what⎯ but that position is already taken i can't just⎯"

"you will⎯ or no work, you practically live with me and i'm obviously providing for you⎯ speaking of why aren't you moved in with me, besides the point i don't want you working, but having you next to me everyday would better" he leans on the counter next to you.

"fine⎯ but we're sending your current secretary a gift basket and flowers" you say starting to walk out.

"Whatever you want my sweet princess" he chuckles, giving you a kiss on your cheek before heading out the other way to his office.

ミ★✫彡༄

The date night was relaxed, satoru's living room lights were dim, you were sitting on the ground in front of his couch, waiting for him to bring the steak to the coffee table in front of you.

"and here is the food" he says, placing down each plate carefully, as proud of himself as ever.

"I have one more gift," he smiles, his voice soft.

He comes back from inside the room with a book. you recognise it. It was his old sketchbook. but new.

"I bought this sketch book, the same as my old one, when we stopped talking." he says, sitting on the ground next to you. " I've made this book specifically for you. i never stopped drawing you y/n. every time i missed you i drew you, which was all the time."

you take the book from his hold as you flip through each drawing, he draws you in every perspective, all the sketches labeled with the date, starting from three years prior.

every sketch you flipped through had focused on a new feature of you, your light freckles, your dark eye color that he managed to capture so bright, your smile when you were eating a chocolate strawberry.

"Satoru this is⎯ i can't believe this" you say.

"page three-hundred-sixty-five." he says, softly smiling at your expressions.

as you flip through the book to find the page you see it. a sketch of you flashing a big wedding right, your smile captured perfectly in the drawing.

as you look up at satoru, you see the tiny box in his hand, your eyes widen.

"y/n. will you marry me" satoru asks as he opens the box, the same wedding ring as the sketch is in the box.

your eyes start to water as you look at him, your lips quivering.

"yes!" you yell, jumping onto him wrapping yourself around him as you cry.

He stumbles back a little as you jump into his arms, letting out a surprised laugh, but he catches you like it was always meant to happen — like you’ve always belonged there, in his arms, like this.

You bury your face into his neck, tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, and his arms tighten around you.

“You idiot,” you whisper through your tears, your voice shaking. “You really kept that sketchbook all this time?”

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, a smile playing at his lips as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Did you think I wasn’t serious about you?”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing away the strands of white hair sticking to his forehead. He’s smiling now — truly smiling. Not the playful smirks or sarcastic grins he used to flash across the library table. But something real. Gentle. Almost shy.

“I didn’t think…” You shake your head, laughing softly. “I just never imagined this.”

“I did,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “From the moment I saw you talking to your books like they owed you rent in that quiet library corner.”

You laugh again, and he leans in to kiss you — soft and sure, like he’s sealing a promise he made long before today.

When you finally pull apart, he slides the ring onto your finger — the same design he’d once doodled absentmindedly in the margins of his sketchbook, right next to your smiling face.

It fits perfectly.

The city buzzes behind you. The lights blur in the corners of your vision. But none of it matters. Not really.

Because in that moment — wrapped in his arms, heart beating wildly, the weight of the ring grounding you in something that feels both terrifying and beautiful.

he kisses you again, this time it feels different.

it's your soon to be husband kissing you.

ミ★✫彡༄

© forestlv4r. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

author's notes: thank you guys so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!

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