WHEN HE FIRST MEETS YOU

୨★✧.*party 4 u ✧★.*୧

Jean Kirstein x Reader, one shot

★ recreational drug use, angst, fluff, post break up, kissing, ex boyfriend, insecurity and anxiety

Ik the song is trending but when I tell you it's been a fave with me forever.. this WIP has sat with me for a while, and I changed my mind with a lot of it but hopefully u all still like it! (If I had a nickel for every Jean fic I wrote inspired by a charlixcx song, lol) Who said you can't make corny songfic in 2025??

┈➤here's the ao3 link or read under the cut :)

Jean thought you were the most beautiful he’d ever seen. 

Silver confetti fluttered around you, the echoes of the crowd and thudding bass was overwhelming. You felt weightless and free as you danced in the darkness. The strobe lights made you see spots, highlighting the smoke that spun into the air, and for the briefest moment, everything was fine.

You couldn’t believe you almost didn’t come. 

Hitch barely managed to persuade you to skip your 8 am tomorrow, just so you could all get fucked up tonight. 

You took an Uber so none of the group would have to drive from the pregame near campus to Jean Kirschtein’s obnoxiously large house in the country.

You and Jean had a complicated history—Hitch and Annie didn’t know, because you hated the drama of it all. 

All your freshman year at Paradis State, you were inseparable in puppy love, and so unprepared for the consequences of it. You weren’t the best at expressing your feelings and boundaries, and Jean was eager to please you. It should have worked better, and you tried not to linger on that fact. He was breathtakingly handsome and had lots of friends, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that you eventually just stopped seeing each other. 

Well, you stopped seeing him. 

You practically ghosted Jean when you found out about his weird feelings about Mikasa. You couldn’t unsee his crush whenever he was around her, and it killed you. You weren’t even angry with her for it, since Mikasa was happily infatuated with Eren, though you wished you could tell her plainly that you harbored nothing against her for it. 

You were young and emotional, and let your hurt get the better of you. It didn’t make any sense, and you didn’t even give Jean a chance to explain himself, ever. 

The aftermath was awkward considering how many mutual friends you had, so you just avoided him entirely. You started going to clubs in the next town over instead of bars and parties around campus, and you were content with the new friends you made in Annie and Hitch, despite their connections looping back to the same place. 

You supposed for as long as you lived in Trost, everyone you knew would lead you back to Jean. He was a good guy. You kind of freaked out, and got too embarrassed and proud to go back to him and apologize. 

“C’mon man, are you gonna try to enjoy yourself?” Connie gave him a light punch on the shoulder. 

“I am,” Jean said, irritated, and glanced outside again. “Are you sure she’s coming?”

He had spent the first hour of the evening hovering by the windows. They were tall and wide, so he would have seen you perfectly from the other end of the room, but as soon as he heard that you were coming, he was a wreck. 

He insisted on picking out the decorations instead of letting Sasha take the lead, like she usually did. He couldn’t help himself from the excitement that blossomed in his chest at the idea of seeing you, really seeing you. 

As the others around him began pregaming, Jean really drank. 

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it. His heart raced all evening, resounding all his longing, begging, willing you through that door. Come to my party. Come to my party.

Jean felt like he was always catching glimpses of you, and no matter how hard he tried to move on, the way you seemed to, there was always a remaining trace of bitterness. You were barely there, yet not close enough for him to properly ignore the way you made him feel.

It was years ago, and should mean nothing. It meant nothing. 

“Look man,” Connie put his hand on Jean’s shoulder, his breath fanning the scent of beer over to his friend. “Just relax! Either y’talk to her, or you don’t. I don’t think you should waste your night being emo about it. Make a decision. Do something instead of moping around.”

Jean shoved his hand away, a little harsher than he intended to. He couldn’t gauge his own strength—or temper–when he got drunk like this. 

“Yeah, I know.”

By the time you arrived at the sizable mansion, up a long winding driveway lined with trees, you were so high, you didn’t give Jean a second thought. 

You walked in with the girls, immediately enamored with the superfluous decorations, the colorful, ambient lighting, and the blasting music. Balloons hung from the ceiling and littered the floor, and it seemed like over a hundred people were crammed into every crevice of the house. 

“What the hell is this party for again?” You yelled to Hitch, despite her face only being a few inches from yours. Her eyes were hazy and distant, as she’d shared some molly with you earlier, the dose she took was far more. 

“Uhh, I think Jean said he just needed a pick me up for the new semester,” she shouted back and slipped her sunglasses over her eyes. “I think it’s pretty.”

“I’m getting jungle juice,” Annie said boredly. She’d taken more shots than any of you, and remained composed like it was nothing. “Come with?” 

Hitch nodded. 

“Y/n? You rolling?” 

“Not yet. I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” you shook your head and gave them an encouraging smile.

“Fine, but if I leave here alone, I’m killing you both,” she stuck her tongue out at you playfully, and gripped Annie’s arm as they went off. 

You smiled and decided to occupy yourself by weaving through the crowd, people watching. 

There were people taking shots, legs in tall boots and short skirts, groups smoking cigs and rolling up by the staircase. A throng of people surrounded the DJ on the raised platform by the living room. 

Your senses were pleasantly heightened, you felt warm and light. The mixture of drugs kept you at ease, though a part of you ached, and seemed to search for a certain familiar face.

You pushed away the thought and made your way across the floor. 

You saw Historia posing as her girlfriend took photos of her, the flash briefly blinding you as you stumbled past. You waved at Connie and Sasha, the former shotgunning a beer as his friend timed him. It was always nice seeing them. 

“Hey Y/n!”

You turned to find a buzzed, cheerful Marco, with a solo cup in hand, and he leaned in for a hug. 

“Hey!” You said, surprised, and squeezed him tight. 

You liked Marco a lot, and despite being Jean’s best friend, he was one of the kindest people to you throughout the past few years.

“I’m great, did you just get here?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Looks like you guys went all out,” you grinned and gestured at the crowded room. If it wasn’t silver or gold, it was sparkling or glowing. 

“It was all Jean’s idea,” Marco rubbed the back of his neck, stumbling over his words. “I dunno. He’s uh– excited. Probably on a second bottle by now.” 

“Oh,” your eyebrows betrayed your concern. “Um, is he alright?”

“It doesn’t seem fair to… sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Marco was pink from the alcohol, and seemed to turn a little redder. “You should enjoy yourself!”

“Well, where is he?” Your eyebrows pinched together. 

The temptation was killing you. Was Marco trying to say that Jean wanted to talk to you? Why else would he suggest it?

“Um, outside, I think,” he gave you an apologetic smile. “Really, he’ll be okay. You should enjoy your night. He sent me away to enjoy mine.”

You swallowed and watched him disappear into the crowd. 

You were fucking out of it. Maybe any mistakes you made tonight could be reasonably excused. Besides, you were friends with Jean long before you fucked things up. 

You made your way through the sea of people and to the back door, an angelic synth swimming in your ears. 

You stepped outside, and shivered from the biting February breeze. 

The pool shone blue in the night, casting a glow that shimmered and shook with the water. It was quieter in the backyard, the thudding music and chatter was muffled and seemed worlds away. 

You braced yourself to see Jean around the corner, or on a chair, but you were completely alone. 

Your head was pounding from the powerful speakers. You took a deep, shuddering breath, allowing yourself to feel. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so fucked up, knowing that Jean would be here. You kind of walked into this. Yet, you think you might’ve felt the same sober. That was sadder. At least with this, you could blame it on the drugs. 

Fuck. You couldn’t let yourself spiral and lose it. You felt like shit ruining girl’s nights like this, even if Hitch and Annie were preoccupied elsewhere. 

You sank to your knees by the pool, and took off your heels. You dipped your feet in the water, grateful for the cold, tranquil distraction. You closed your eyes, and took deep breaths. With the muffled crowd and the occasional car passing in the street, the moment felt a little more real. 

Jean was always good at helping you calm down. When you managed to convey the times you were overwhelmed, he was a saint, rubbing your back and keeping you hydrated when you got too high or anxious. 

Tears leaked down your face before you could stop them. You didn’t want to ruin your makeup, after using so much glitter, but your cheeks were wet and your vision blurred. You hadn’t thought about this, or him, in years. 

Did you overreact? You let your jealousy get to the better of you. God, you sucked. Maybe you should have stayed home. Maybe it’s just been too long, or you were high, and lonely, but the idea of Jean holding you close now made your heart ache. 

You heard the back door slide open, spilling more heavenly electronic music into the air until it shut again. 

“Hey.” A familiar voice called your name, nearly cracking. 

“Hey,” you said, hastily wiping your face, staring straight ahead at the water. “Are you alright?”

“I think I should be asking you,” Jean slurred and sat down on the pavement. He had a bottle in his hand, and wore a button down with the sleeves rolled up, his hair tousled and sticking slightly to his forehead from sweat. His legs were crossed, and he leaned down while he spoke, his posture ruined in favor of staying at your eye level. “I di–um..” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Seemed like fun,” you laughed, despite the salty taste in your mouth. “It’s all beautiful, Jean. You always throw one hell of a party.”

His eyes were pained, and it sent a stabbing sensation to your chest. 

“Thanks.” He seemed very tempted to say more, but instead took a swig and passed you the bottle. 

“No I’m good, I’m rolling,” you pushed it back to him. 

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Any.. particular occasion?”

You shrugged. 

“Hitch offered.” You tried not to read too much into his question. You rolled very rarely—partying was always magnified by a little molly every now and then. You likely flattered yourself too much as you wondered if he was thinking you came out tonight to fuck someone, with its reputation as a sex drug. 

“Sounds fun,” he said, jaw tight. “So… why are you out here?”

“Marco kind of sent me,” you laughed. “Obviously, I was too late. Thought you’d be somewhere else by now, and the pool’s nice.”

“Well, here I am,” he said bitterly. He swept a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes and ruining the near-perfect coif. You liked it better that way, messy and long, you didn’t think the perfectly combed look really fit him. 

“How–how are you?” You said lightly. His lashes were so long, perfectly framing his sad eyes, brushing his cheek with every blink. 

“Second semester always sucks,” he shrugged and took another swig. “Thought something extravagant would lighten everyone’s spirits.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled and laughed nervously. You were chewing your lip as you kicked your leg gently against the water, watching the small droplets flick away from you.  “I think it was a great idea. And it’s stunning– inside, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”

There was a trace of a smile on his lips from your compliment. He couldn’t make himself say that it was really all for you. 

Your features were glowing from the light refracting off of the pool, your short dress rode up your thighs, and Jean couldn’t help but stare. He wondered if you sensed it too, the tension—not from the awful history, or the unsaid professions, but the near tangible desire.  

“I’m glad you made it,” he said softly. “It’s really nice to see you.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. You averted your eyes, your hands in your lap. 

The drugs were heightening all your emotions, and all your senses—the tinge of chlorine in the air, mixing with Jean’s familiar scent, the faint thudding of music from inside the house, the cool water against your skin. 

“Um,” your breath was shaky, your hands clenched into fists. “I’m sorry, by the way. A-about freshman year.” You nearly choked on the words as they bubbled out of you. “It’s—I was really dumb and jealous. You’re a great guy, Jean. You’re an amazing, sweet, romantic son of a bitch. You deserve the world.”

You tried not to stare, but it wasn’t like he was returning the favor. You were both shamelessly memorizing each other's features, a mingling of fear, apprehension, and desperation. You felt so wretched, to pretend like he was someone you never loved. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Jean said pathetically. It was all he could manage, despite everything he wanted to say. 

You blushed and tried not to smile too hard. That was more than enough for you. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You ignored the tossing in your stomach as Jean held the door open, leaking sound and smoke into the air before sliding it shut. 

It was a small, guilty pleasure, feeling him guide you through the mass of people, dancing, thrashing bodies and balloons. 

You found a small opening, nearly thrown together from the crowd. 

You spent the night with your arms at Jean’s shoulders, and his hands at your waist. The strobe lights nearly blinded you, but you couldn’t look away from him. The adoration in his eyes, the curve of his lips. Maybe he was thinking the same thing, that you were both ridiculous, cowardly idiots. Maybe you were just delusional. 

You couldn’t stop yourself when you leaned into him, taking in his scent, yearning to feel his heartbeat, as if you were the only people in the room. It was like time stopped and everyone else faded away when he closed the space between you, his lips warm and rough and they met yours, finally reuniting after all the heartache. 

Jean tasted like home. His hands roamed your body, through your hair, and you clung to him, kissing him and forsaking your breath. It all felt so good, so right.

“Oh my god,” Jean groaned, thrilled by the taste of you, the way you felt against him and in his hands. He tried to be gentler, but he was too excited by your shallow breaths, your impossibly soft skin, your moans urging him to be more and more indecent. 

You nearly stumbled, getting shoulder checked from a nearby dancer, and your tall heels failing you. Jean’s grip at your waist was firm, and he led you to the corner and pinned you against the wall. He kissed you until you gasped for air.

“Uh, should we do something?” Sasha nudged Connie with her elbow as she spotted you both from a distance, making out passionately, for all to see. 

“Are you kidding?” Connie snorted. “They need that shit. I’ll find them an empty closet myself.”

touya todoroki completes community service hours at an aquarium.

your supervisors, understandably, were adamantly against having the convicted criminal anywhere near the facility, its staff, and its animals. however, after being reassured time and time again that he wouldn't be working in public areas, you were assigned to be his unofficial parole officer (or off-fish-er you called it) because of your hydrokinetic quirk. not only were you responsible for watching a criminal, you were also the first line of defense in case he decided to make the facility into a seafood boil.

you'd better be getting a stellar letter of recommendation after all this.

as luck would have it, word spread quickly among aquarium staff about the new volunteer and his...messy...history. you received many texts wishing you good luck and stating that you're in many people's prayers as if working with him would be a death sentence. but, to your surprise, your first day with touya is actually...not terrible.

"you're doing a nice job. you can cut them into larger chunks if you want," you recommend kindly as he slices pieces of shrimp and fish for the penguins and drops them into the gray bucket.

"don't want them to choke," he mumbles almost imperceptibly. from what you've heard about him, touya was physically incapable of shutting up and always had some snarky insult to mutter under his breath. the man you were working with, however, kept his thoughts to himself and only engaged you with curt acknowledgments of tasks. "these got bones in 'em still?"

"digestible ones, yeah," you confirm, a little confused about why he's so curious. he struck you as the type of guy to just work and finish his assignments with as little energy exertion as possible. but here he was, concerned for the animals' safety even when he hadn't even seen them yet. "we just need to cut them up because some of them try to swallow the big ones whole, and we don't need them blocking their throats."

"how many are there?"

"the penguins?" he hums in assent, never taking his eyes off the precise cuts on the food. "i think our colony is a few dozen, maybe twenty-two?"

"do they get along well?"

"some of them are a little feistier than others," you admit with a fond smile. "but the majority of them are really sweet. you'll see when you meet them."

"meet them?"

"you're not walking out with me, of course," you quickly correct. "my shift lead's gonna have my head on a stake if you so much as show a finger to the public." he nods, an odd sort of quiet falling between you two that was more awkward than the previous silence. if you knew any better, you would interpret his expression for disappointment. "there's one recovering from an illness backstage named peach. she gets fed on her own, but if there's some left over i can take you over there to feed her."

"it's fine. don't wanna bother your routine," he mutters with a shrug, but you catch the renewed glint in his eyes at the prospect of meeting one of the animals personally. after feeding the main colony and not-so-accidentally leaving a few treats at the bottom of the bucket, touya follows you through the back halls of the vet center to peach's holding area.

"be warned, she's one of the feisty ones," you caution him, carefully stepping into the plexiglass-enclosed space. he copies your motions exactly and you're surprised, again, from the great care he seems to take when interacting with the small penguin. "so, all you need to do is hand out the fish to her and let her take it in her beak."

"does she dislike new people?" he asks as peach aggressively inspects his shins, prodding them with her beak when touya tries to step away. "i don't think she likes me."

"it's the opposite, believe it or not; you're making her angry when you try to give her space like that," you reply with a stifled laugh.

"oh. i see." peach continues to slap touya with her fins and poke him until he gives her what she wants, a large chunk of fish straight from his hand. you kneel down next to him when he has a seat on the floor, his eyes curiously observing the spunky bird. "she always this sassy with you?"

"only when she gets jealous," you smile, running your hand over the top of her head. her eyes close in contentment before returning to touya's outstretched food offering. "what do you think?"

"about what?"

"do you think this arrangement is gonna be a nightmare for you?" he pauses and, for the millionth time that day, surprises you with how much thought he put into his actions.

"if everyone i meet is as easy as you and her," he says, gesturing to peach but speaking soft enough to make your cheeks heat, "i think i'll get by."

---

"peach duty today?"

"schedule got mixed around, so we'll be giving her dinner instead of lunch today," you reply and touya hums at your side, an answer that could be considered rude if you didn't already know he was a man of few words.

few words, that is, if he was speaking to anyone other than the animals. after a month of touya shadowing you, you could pick up on the little conversations he had with the different animals he took care of: asking the cownose rays to calm down during feeding time, warning the reef sharks that they might need braces if they keep losing so many teeth (he kept forgetting it was normal for them to lose that many teeth), quietly cheering on the day octopus as he breaks into a jar full of crabs.

"who've we got today?"

"took a hell of a lotta convincing, but my boss is letting you meet my best friend today," you inform him. touya walks in step beside you like he'd memorized the fishy-smelling back halls of the aquarium, barely sparing passing wary staff so much as a glance. you'd be intimidated, too, if he wasn't your partner; he was formidable in his favorite blue windbreaker with his hands stuffed casually in its pockets that subtly accented the lean muscle in his arms. not that you were paying much attention to his body, anyway.

"and who would that be?"

"her name is donna, but i call her mama donna." he follows you down a corridor he'd never taken before, toward the very back of the medical wing. "take that hall on the right and change into a wetsuit; i'll meet you back over here, okay?"

"why do i need to change?"

"well, because you're getting in the water with me."

shit.

it's the first time touya hesitates in a long time when you beckon him to join you in the shallow pool. you'd already summoned donna, who was much larger of an animal than he expected. you said she was an adult zebra shark, but all he could register is the tiny tank of brown sacks the size of his hand just outside the walls of the pool.

"i don't think it's the best--"

"get in the water, touya, or i'm gonna report you for insubordination," you interrupt, waist-deep in the water. you don't mean it, of course, but you did need a hand with donna if you were going to check on the status of her eggs.

"i shouldn't be in the water with her, 'specially if she's a mother."

"what, you got something against moms?" he flinches and you suddenly regret speaking so brashly, something about his reaction indicating that you'd hit a nerve. "sorry, that was insensitive--"

"i don't wanna hurt her if i..." his voice trails off and he looks down at his scarred hands, the tissue dark enough to almost match the color of his wetsuit. "it's better for everyone if i don't get close to her if she's vulnerable." you wait for him to look you dead in the eyes before answering.

"i wouldn't bring you to meet her if i didn't think you were ready, touya," you begin gently. "i don't think of you the same way as the rest of the staff because you've proven that you're different from the gossip."

"but what if i--"

"did you forget why i'm paired with you in the first place?" donna swims around you impatiently, nudging you with her nose while you continue to convince touya to get in the water. "i'm the only one on staff that can neutralize you, but i know i won't need to."

"how are you so sure?"

"because i hear you talk to them," you state simply, rubbing your hand on donna's nose as her tail splashes your upper body. "your little conversations tell me you care, even if i'm not allowed to be a part of them." you shoot him a wry smile and he finally scoffs, partly a chuckle and partly an exhale; he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "i'll drown you if you heat this water by even half a degree, so help me with donna and then we can go visit peach, yeah?"

---

you'd fallen into an unexpectedly fond partnership over the course of your six months of touya-duty. he was a pretty damn good listener, letting you boss him this way and that and only retaliating with a lighthearted eyeroll. on certain occasions, he would open up about his history, and you followed along intently. he insisted on doing the heavy lifting and opening every door for you, even if you weren't carrying anything. he remembered every animal by name and could tell apart the most similar looking creatures, pointing out their differences with an expression that screamed 'is it not obvious?' towards the end of his assignment, you both faced an unexpected surprise.

his family came to visit.

well, not all of his family, only the ones touya maintained somewhat of a relationship with. in the times he'd opened up, he briefly mentioned his now-graduated little brother, shoto, and the work he'd done to mend the tears between him, his mother, and his other siblings. you consider it a blessing that only his mother and siblings appear when you round the corner to the 'vip only' waiting area (from your talks, you'd also learned it'd be on sight if touya's retired father stepped on the property). he freezes when he sees his family as the guests who would be shadowing him, becoming uncharacteristically stiff as petrified wood.

"welcome, todoroki family. i'm so glad you could join us today," you greet with a polite smile. only when your hand gently settles on touya's shoulder, the reminder of your presence melting the chill in his veins, does the tension in his body dissipate. "touya? d'you wanna introduce me to your family?" he glances at you, your unwavering trust in him, and his eyes soften as he nods.

"yeah," he affirms quietly. "yeah, i can do that."

"doing great, partner," you whisper once you're acquainted with the family and on the move, heading toward the back halls of the tropical gallery. "i'll only talk if you need me to, today, because i want this to be about you and them."

"but you're not gonna leave me, right?"

"wouldn't dream of it," you reassure him, something in your heart stumbling when he gives you an easy smile. as the day goes on and touya guides his family through the back corridors of the facility, he's able to ramble about all the knowledge he'd acquired while working with you. at each exhibit, he points out every species with total accuracy and shares his favorite quirks about certain animals. you have a front-row seat for the way his eyes, usually so molten and intense, have a star-like quality to them when he talks about his new friends, the abalone and the otters and the sea bass. his family observes him in awe, and you catch his mother watching you watch him several times. touya ends the day by introducing peach, his self-proclaimed 'number one girl,' and helping his family with her nightly feeding. though all the todoroki siblings struck you as reserved when you first met them, their conversations were full of life as they walked ahead and you trailed behind with his mother.

"this suits him," rei states with a thoughtful smile.

"i'm biased, but i agree," you reply. she fixes you again with that curious stare, analyzing you. "do i have fish scales on my face?" she laughs and shakes her head.

"no, i'm just indebted to you for getting through to him." you blink, taken aback by her genuine response. "being with you makes him happy. i haven't seen him like this in a long while." she turns back to her children, walking in one raucous group and making plans to get dinner after his shift. "he doesn't talk with them like this often."

"i imagine it's all a mother would want after everything they've been through, if i may," you add and she hums in agreement.

"it is. it's also why, i hope you wouldn't mind," she trails off and her eyebrows pinch slightly, like she's thinking of something worrisome. "if he could stay here."

"of course. i've noticed that he has a knack for husbandry, so--"

"he wants to stay with you," she cuts in, her voice soft as powdered snow. "and i'd like him to stay with you, if it means we can see him more like--"

"this," you finish for her, gesturing to the pile of adult men wrestling each other just ahead, their sister shaking her head from afar. rei sighs, her smile turning sad.

"exactly." before you can give her your reply, touya has escaped his brothers and approached to steal you from his mother.

"if you take those double doors and turn left, you'll end up in the gift shop. wait there and we can get dinner once i'm off," he tells rei, taking her hand and squeezing it once. "i won't be long." she nods and joins her other children, leaving you alone with touya in front of the staff-only window of the sea lion pool. the fading afternoon light catches in the water's rippling and sends a soft beam of light across the cavern. the largest of the lions, boris, floats from below to observe you and touya standing in front of his tank.

"he moves like a slinky," touya states and you can't help but laugh.

"he does move like a slinky, you're right." you turn to him and find he's already looking back at you, not boris. "i loved meeting your family today," you offer in the silence that makes the heartbeat in your ears sound so much louder. "they're very sweet, especially your mother."

"what were you two talking about while we were away?"

"she wanted to show me baby photos," you tease and he gives his signature eyeroll. "but really," you inhale and steady yourself, "she was saying how much this suits you."

"i'd have to agree," he murmurs, his eyes glowing like dying embers. you're close enough to smell him, smoky and rich and only the slightest bit like fish. the proximity feels comforting, like home. "if...if you'd let me--"

"stay with me," you blurt. he blinks at you, the rosy color on the tips of his ears standing out against the bright white. "i-i want you to stay with me." you wait and the quiet stews, nothing moving except slinky-like boris in the water beside you. touya's reply is barely above a whisper.

"i want to stay with you." you release a shaky exhale and let your head fall forward against his chest, steadied by his arms securing themselves around your waist. your hands slide over his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck, fiddling with the tuft of hair at its base. "please let me stay with you," he breathes in your ear. his arms flex as his grip tightens, like you'd turn to water if he held you too loosely. touya feels like his heart is rattling in his ribcage, bouncing around uncontrollably the longer he has you in his arms. he hasn't felt his chest ache like this before.

"yes, i want you to stay with me," you confirm and he melts into you, breathing you in like fresh oxygen.

"for how long?"

"as long as you'd let me," you answer honestly. the corner of his mouth turns upward in a teasing smirk.

"and if i said forever?"

"then i guess i'd have to oblige," you beam. your hands cup his face, tracing the seam of his scars, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours. it's careful, the first time he kisses you, and he's terrified you'd slip from his fingers. but you don't disappear, so he lets himself lace your fingers with his and drag you out to the rest of his loved ones, hand-in-hand and finally feeling like he can do something good.

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Touya’s been slumming it on the streets for a while now. Pick pocketing here and there, even mugging and robbery in desperate times.

He’s eyeing a couple walking down the alleyway, deciding they look like good enough targets.

You and your sort-of-ex-boyfriend have finally gotten together to grab lunch after some time separated. You consider maybe giving him another chance, after all, he really didn’t mean to steal $200 from your bank account to spend on Onlyfans.

You pause in the alleyway as another figure approaches you. Before he can even finish his sentence, “Hand over your wallet—” your boyfriend pushes you forward, you falling to the ground in front of the attacker.

Touya pauses watching the absolute pansy of a man high-tail it out of the alleyway, you sitting on the ground also watching him scramble back out to the street.

Did he piss himself?

You slowly turn your gaze to the pierced man. He looks down at you, pity on his face as he holds out his hand to you.

You take his hand, standing up. “I don’t have much.” you begin.

“Nah, forget it.” Touya replies.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you need the money for?” you ask.

He hesitates for a moment.

Why would you care?

“Food.” Touya says.

You pause, looking down at the bag that carried your now definitely ex-boyfriend’s leftovers. You hand it over to him.

“Here. It’s soba.” you say.

Touya takes the bag, looking it over. “Thanks…”

You nod and turn to exit the alleyway.

“What’s your name?” Touya asks.

You turn back, “Y/n… yours?”

Touya pauses for a moment, he’s been going by the name Dabi for a few months now, but for some reason when he opened his mouth— “Touya.”

You give a soft smile, “Enjoy your soba, Touya.”

Touya nods in response and watches you as you leave the alleyway.

Why did he tell you his real name? Why did it sound so sweet when you said it?

“Y/n…” he repeats, your name tasting just as sweet on his tongue.

“Y/n?!” A man calls out, Touya seeing the ex-boyfriend poking his head into the alleyway. Touya’s eyes narrow and he walks towards the man, his hand igniting in blue flame.

Names are so special.

The man screams in agony as the smell of burned flesh fills the air, blue flames eating him alive.

He doesn’t deserve to say your name anymore.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔: 𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

blurb you’re trying to flirt with your best friend; kuroo’s losing his fucking mind.

# gn!reader, fluff, slight angst(?) bc kuroo’s a dumb bitch, friends to lovers :)

your shirt’s askew, revealing the smooth skin of your neck.

kuroo stares.

he’s not sure how long you’ve been looking like that, but it sure as hell feels like it’s been forever. he feels his face burning, but nothing else is coming to mind. he’s zeroed in on the exposed slope of your neck, and he feels like he can't breathe. or maybe he's breathing too hard.

you wave a hand. “kuroo…? you with me?”

he exhales, hard. “sorry—” he forces himself to calm down; to think about anything but biting you like a crazed vampire. “sorry, sorry. just, remembered something.”

you tilt your head, and it shows the slope of your— kuroo chokes, but mentally. “about?”

about how much i’m in love with you.

what? kuroo recoils at his own thoughts.

“nothing important,” he lies through his own teeth.

your eyes seem to lose brightness for a split second, had kuroo not been paying attention. “oh, alright.” you turn away from him, fixing your shirt.

why does it feel like kuroo’s not the only one disappointed?

you’re on his lap.

okay, he seriously doesn’t know how you pair ended here. it was only supposed to be a movie night (when is it only just a movie night, tetsu-chan? a voice that suspiciously sounds like oikawa whispers in his mind) but then you two inched closer and closer to each other like a gravitational pull.

and now you’re sleeping on his chest and kuroo is just melting because you look so adorable that he wants to kiss the hell out of you. but you’re asleep, peaceful and unaware of his internal conflict—like always.

“love you, tetsu,” you murmur sleepily against his chest as kuroo stiffens.

he runs a hand through his face, exhaling deeply.

“love you, too.”

“this is bad,” kuroo says into the phone next to his ear, gripping the pillow on his lap like it’s offended him. “this is really, really bad.”

it’s the fifth day of kuroo losing his shit while you unintentionally flirt with him while in the same house.

“you’re just making it bad,” kenma says. kuroo hears the clicking of kenma’s mechanical keyboard—it sounds extremely expensive. his best friend sighs, “i don’t get why you don’t just admit it to y/n.”

kuroo bristles at the thought, scowling at an imaginary kenma right in front of him. “you want me to just— hey, baby, this sounds crazy and you might slap me after this, but i am in love with you and have been since middle school!”

he scratches the nape of his neck, suddenly embarrassed at kenma’s deadpanned silence.

“i was talking about y/n giving you awkward bo—”

“woah, woah, hey! keep it PG!” oikawa shrieks, and it’s a painful sound. kuroo honestly forgot that he’s also on the call. “but kenma-chan is right, you know? kuroo tetsurou, you’re not only going to die a virgin—but also a coward for never confessing!”

“i’d rather die both than have y/n avoid me,” kuroo murmurs, and his brain decides to be a bitch and give him a flashback on how you looked so cute with his shirt.

kenma stops clicking, muttering an interested: “oh?”

oikawa makes a noise that sounds part amazed and part bewildered. “wow, you really love y/n-chan, don’t you? i thought this was just horny-kuroo speaking, but this is past that.”

“it’s been past that for ages,” kuroo hisses. “and now i’m torn between just kissing the life out of y/n and hibernating in my room for even thinking about that.”

“nevermind, you’re just really stupid,” kenma goes back to clicking.

sugawara—again, kuroo doesn’t know how they’re here—laughs; it’s the evil one. “we all know that. how could we even expect it to be different?”

“hey, shut the fuck up!” kuroo barks as oikawa cackles, followed by a thump. kuroo assumes he fell on the floor. “just because i’m at the top of my class doesn’t mean you should be jealous.”

“king of the class yet also king of being obliviously a dumbass,” kenma says; and it’s even worse when kenma teases him because it’s so deadpanned that he sounds deadly serious.

kuroo leaves the call, throwing his arms in the air.

he wanted some bro talk. he wanted some bro advice. instead, he got some bro-punch in the bro-face because his friends are keeping an inside joke from kuroo—and they keep saying you’ll find out when the time is right!

kuroo catches a glimpse of you from outside his room where his door is pushed open: you smiling at your phone. it’s a soft smile, and it looks good on you. he wonders when you’ll give that to him.

kuroo sighs to himself, turning away.

when will the time ever be right?

“guys, i think i’m giving up,” you announce one faithful day, walking into the kitchen while kuroo’s rereading his school materials.

kuroo listens half-heartedly, wondering who you’re talking to. and then he keeps reminding himself to focus on his goddamn chemistry textbook.

“no, dumbass. i tried everything!” you yell into the phone, pouring water in a glass. but with one hand on the phone, it wobbles dangerously.

without thinking too much, kuroo rushes to your side, standing right behind you as he steadies the glass for your sake. he will get a heart attack if you break this glass and get it all over you—and he does not want to get one right now.

your warmth is a distraction, and he barely catches it when you smile and thank him.

the person on the phone continues talking as you fill the glass to the very brim, and kuroo finally allows himself to release his grip.

“careful,” he says. “that one’s heavier.”

“gotcha,” you say, grinning in amusement. “no, tooru—” what? you’re talking to oikawa? “i’m not trying to be subtle… tips? fuck that book! that was written by a man anyway, i should know what i’m doing better.”

speaking of, kuroo should probably go back to his textbook.

“yes, i’m just going to do it,” you grumble, and kuroo actually likes that nose wrinkle you do. it’s cute. he pokes it and you stick your tongue out at him. “yeah, he’s right in front of me; you get to have a front row seat.”

but you’re also holding onto his wrist so he’s kind of stuck right now.

you look up at kuroo, stating: “tetsurou, i have been trying to flirt with you for the past week. tell me now, are you not interested in me or?”

“what.”

“that’s not an answer.”

kuroo’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “you’re serious.”

“as serious as i have been flirting with you,” you answer back.

“what the fuck,” kuroo breathes, and he’s sure he’s blushing madly because you’re unable to hold in your little giggles that make him feel warmer. “what the fuck.”

“still not an answer.”

“i’m fucking in love with you,” he adds hurriedly, knocking the phone away from your grasp in lieu of holding your face. he tries to convince himself that this is real. “and i am so sorry that i am ridiculously stupid.”

“oh,” your eyes soften, hands coming on top of his, “me too. i’ve been in love with you for months now. it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

“try years.”

you huff sharp laughter, squeezing his hands—and he melts into your touch, knocking your foreheads together. “so competitive. are you gonna kill block me from a kiss now?”

“never in my life,” he mutters, and slots his lips into yours; like the way he could’ve been doing all this time.

“can you wear my shirt again? that one really got me going.”

“i’m still here!” oikawa shrieks, mortified.

haikyuu taglist [ @crystal-lilac @jaepann @bun-ina ]

untitled feat. rindou haitani

warnings. none !!

a/n. quick drabble. implied female reader, use of mommy. making a dad series bc i love writing this shit !!

"rina has two mommies." your daughter piped up from her spot at the dinner table, distastefully pushing her asparagus around with her fork.

rindou walks in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, bending to to kiss the top of your head gently. he popped the cork off, pouring a bit of the dark liquid into the glasses, giving one to you.

"some people have two mommies, some people have two daddies. it just depends who your parents are." your husband replies, taking a sip of his wine.

"they're not married. she has one mommy at one house, and another mommy living with her. she says her parents are divorced because her daddy brought home the other mommy." rindou's eyes widened and you swore you saw wine come out of his nose as he choked.

"o-oh? um- that happens some-"

"i want two mommies." she cut you off with a frown that matched your developing one.

another mommy? why does she need another mom when she has you? your eyebrows furrowed, mouth opening and closing once again in attempt to find the right words to say, but the only thing you could come up with was a question.

"why?"

your daughter shrugs, shoving a spoonful of beans into her mouth. "it'd be fun. it's like double everything. double houses, double fun, double love, double mommies." double love? was your love not enough for them?

maybe you were being a bit dramatic but were you really? you tend to take your children's words to heart as they are the most important people to you, so the things they think and say mean a lot to you. sometimes you miss when they could only say 'mama' and 'dada'...

her older brother looked over to you and back to his sister with a glare. "we don't need two moms d/n." his subtle comforts made your heart warm, but just like that, your daughter opened her mouth, adding fuel to the fire.

"why not? think about it, we'd have momma times two! everything she does would be multiplied." she smiled solemnly, daydreams of her new life clouding her mind.

you understood that she didn't quite understand the concept of a step mother, not realizing that her father would have to leave you and love another for her to have a another mom of any sort, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

rindou grabbed your hand under the table, swiping his thumb against the back of it, taking note of how dejected you felt.

"d/n, just shut up. you're digging yourself a hole." your son muttered, even he, taking notice of the tension. your daughter remained oblivious.

d/n pouted at the slight scolding, glancing around the table, trying to see the issue with the words she spoke and then it sunk.

"oh mommy, i didn't mean it!" she pleaded, silverware clattering against the glass plate. "i-i wasn't even thinking. moms are stupid- i mean not moms, but like second moms. wait no, not second moms because that's ok- what i meant was...sorry mommy." her head hung low in disappointment, fingers pulling at the lose strings of her pajamas.

"it's okay. i know you didn't mean it in a bad way, but do you seriously need two moms? am i-"

"no, mommy! you're the best, i don't want double anything, i only want you." d/n cut you off frantically, shaking her head in denial. rindou could only watch silently at his daughter who seemed to favor you more and more, day by day, in every way possible.

"okay, just making sure..let's finish eating okay?" you sent a comforting smile her way, trying to ease her guilt, which did very little as d/n still continued to pout in her seat.

the table was silent for a few minutes before s/n spoke up with an expressionless face, similar to his father's, but his eyes said otherwise.

"don't worry momma, if dad ever leaves you, i'll choose to go with you."

now it was your turn to choke and rindou's turn to get defensive.

𝗡𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 *+:｡.｡

summary. “I’ve known Geto since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it.” | wc. 3.5k+

cw/ tw. fem!reader, college au, fratboy!geto, slightly dark content, obsessive behavior, smoking (not by the reader), frat parties, dubcon, cherrypicking, degradation, jealousy, slightly yandere, deception, pet names (ex. pretty girl, baby), intended for 18+ readers

an. I haven't posted in what? two weeks?? maybe three? and I'm surprised people are still following me after how dry it's been on here...heh (thank you if you stuck around while I was away). enjoy a repost, comments and reblogs are appreciated ༉‧₊˚.

You met Geto at a frat party Shoko dragged you to after listening to you complain (for the third time that week) about classes and a paper due next month—and you couldn’t say that you were too upset about it now that you were standing beside him. 

He was twice your size. Easily a head taller than you, which had your stomach twisting into neat little knots.

Geto was the type you’d usually avoid and admire from afar. Because rich, popular guys like him didn’t have time for unspecial girls like you. But he too easily derailed that thought without doing more than flashing you a smile.

It should be disconcerting how openly you were staring, not even trying to hide how your eyes traveled from the perfect bun atop his head to his broad, slightly tanned chest. His open, silky, short-sleeve button-up revealed a necklace dangling low around his neck and a glimpse of a tattoo that started at his ribs and trailed down beyond his shirt.

You almost felt a little underdressed, standing beside him in just a cropped sweater and tennis skirt.

“Hey, I’m Geto,” he said. 

His voice was nice. Low and sweet. Sly, in that way most guys like him tend to embrace after years of getting what they want.

Then you realized he had been talking to you, the corners of his mouth curling as he stared at you expectantly.

Embarrassment swam through your veins as you shyly gave him your name before shifting behind Shoko until the heat in your face melted away. Geto's lips twitched, bringing his cup to his mouth with a hand covered in rings—you wanted to disappear into the floor.

It wasn’t until after he plied you with a few fruity drinks, your head a little fuzzy and less anxious, that you relaxed around him, swaying on your feet towards him instead of away. The slight buzz had words easily falling off your tongue, and you were surprised to find that he listened instead of going glassy-eyed the longer you went on about classes and your work study.

Your fourth cup in, you followed him into the corner of the living room on a lumpy old couch where Geto sat with you in his lap—you weren’t even sure what you were talking about anymore—while he took long drags from a blunt you let him roll up on your thigh.

He offered you a hit, which you politely declined, and he pulled you along with him when he leaned back further into the couch, his voice close humming along your eardrums and his lips softly brushing against your ear.

Geto turned his head to blow out another hazy cloud of smoke before leaning in to ask if he could taste your drink.

“S-sure,” you breathed shakily, about to give him your cup, only to freeze when he kissed you instead.

He chuckled when you released a startled squeak against his mouth—the faint smell of weed on his breath fanning across your face and making you slightly light-headed. Then his tongue sought out yours, and the taste of mint and cheap vodka graced your tastebuds. 

You sighed, subtly rubbing your thighs together, and before you could even return the kiss, he’d pulled away with a wry smile.

“Tastes good,” he hummed, a warm hand gently running along your thigh. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip, and you watched his gaze track the movement. “Can I have another?” 

You were already leaning in before he could finish asking.

He texted you while you were hunched over a petri dish in the lab on Tuesday. 

Then, while you were studying in the library a week later—another victim to you venting about your paper, though it felt like he made an effort to understand—after a long shift and bus ride home, followed by a steady succession of texts for several days straight. 

You thought he was sweet, in his own way—little things that made your heart flutter like butterfly wings and stomach bubble with anxiety because this was bound to crash and burn. But one crooked smile, and you suddenly forgot why guys like him were off-limits.

Sometimes, he’d bring you coffee after long nights of studying, and it made you sway on your feet whenever he’d tuck hair behind your ear after it fell out of place.

You’d find yourself pressed against your soft bed whenever Shoko wasn't around while Geto licked away the little whimpers dripping from your lips. Some days it went further than that, where the messy grinding and needy kisses weren’t enough, and his hand would tease up your skirt to smooth over your drippy-wet cunt through damp underwear. 

However, it didn’t go beyond dry-humping and heavy petting because—

“I’ve never done this before,” you admitted softly, staring up at your speckled ceiling. Too afraid to see the look on his face until the hand still delicately wrapped around your throat suddenly forced your gaze back on him.

It was as if something about him almost shifted, dangerous, eyes as dark as pitch in the soft light of your bedroom lamp. But it dissolved with a syrupy smile as he squeezed your hips. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

The amount of trust you had for him after only a couple of weeks should be alarming—

You grin at him instead of thinking about it too much. A dumb and foolish part of you held onto the fact that he promised.

And you believed him.

Or wanted to. 

“Slow,” you agreed, kissing the edge of his mouth.

A month goes by, and you could only keep the secret from Shoko for so long before she finally caught you smiling like a love-sick idiot over a text Geto sent one day. She wasn’t as upset as you’d expected; she almost seemed disappointed.

And that was somehow worse.

She warned you not to take anything seriously that came out of Geto’s mouth because he had a habit of running the same script on every girl he met.

“I’ve known him since we were kids, and trust me when I say that he’ll fuck you and forget about it,” she told you, pointing her coffee spoon in your direction.

“Oh.”

Shoko reached over and patted your shoulder at the look of dejection on your face. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt, alright?”

You turned over Shoko’s words in your head because you knew this.

Part of you knew all of this. And yet…

And yet, Geto made it easy to forget.

He texted you that night, inviting you to a party his frat house was throwing.

Are you coming? 

You told him you needed to study for a test coming up. Shoko insisted you go to it anyway.

At the party, you scanned the crowd for a familiar head of dark hair until you got dizzy from turning your head so much. And just when you were about to give up and leave instead, you spotted him from where you stood in the archway to the kitchen, and what you saw had your heart sinking bitterly into your stomach.

It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise after what Shoko warned you of—how you already knew that he had an assortment of red flags dangling around his head like thick drapes since the moment you met him.

But you hoped that maybe…well.

You watched Geto share a blunt with the girl in his lap, that familiar crooked smile curling his mouth as cherry-red lips wrapped around the end.

Some of you wondered if someone else had looked at you with the same amount of pity when they witnessed you falling so easily for Geto’s soft-spoken words and recycled pick-up lines—the sweet, shy girl who didn’t know any better ensnared in a neatly woven trap.

He caught your wide-eyed gaze from across the crowd with his bloodshot one, though you didn’t stick around long enough to see what he did after that because you were already walking back home.

You were a bit heartbroken, or that was what you called it, for the first few days—ignoring the texts he’d send late at night and leaving for class earlier than usual to avoid bumping into him.

Avoiding him was more difficult than you thought since his friends ran in the same circles as your roommate. And lately, he seemed more interested in movie nights, or somehow, he always needed to borrow notes from Shoko for a class.

Those days, you sat next to Gojo when there was nowhere else to sit in your cramped living room—none the wiser about the fact that Geto had a strained relationship with your new couch mate.

At parties, you no longer paid attention to where he was in the room, choosing to hover by Shoko and her girlfriend the entire time. It was only during a moment of misplaced curiosity that you finally looked over, already finding Geto’s darkened gaze on you, sneering as you talked and laughed with other guys.

Decent guys.

This game of cat and mouse went on for two more months: Geto trying to get you to notice him, and you acting utterly oblivious.

Because it was easier this way, and eventually, this will all get brushed over and become nothing more than a minor slip in your decision-making.

It bothered him for reasons he couldn’t put into words. He could have a different girl warming his bed almost every weekend, and before he met you, he never batted an eye when they stopped talking to him once they found out that he wasn’t interested in anything other than sex.

Yet, here you were, taking over his every thought like a fucking disease.

He saw you walking around campus with guys that were nothing like him—guys that probably didn’t get high five days out of the week, that willingly took you out on proper dates, that bought you flowers and walked you to your door—then he’d creep onto your Instagram and get annoyed by the new number of male friends liking and commenting on how pretty you were.

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t. Really.

But he did.

Geto wondered if you held out for them as you were so hellbent on doing with him or if one of them managed to taint the innocence you wrapped yourself with before he could.

That put a sour taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t wash away with shots of cheap vodka. And after he watched you leave the party with a guy who looked like he didn’t know what to do after getting your underwear around your ankles, Geto decided he needed to find out.

That was one of the worst dates of your life, by far, since the guy didn't even show up. All night, you earned pathetic looks from the restaurant staff while you sat at your table set for two.

What an asshole.

He would get an earful whenever you saw him in your Psych class on Monday. You’d make sure of it.

You washed off your makeup and sticky hairspray, hoping a warm shower would help brighten your sulky mood.

Your soft, fluffy towel was at least a small comfort as you stepped out of your steamy bathroom to get a change of clothes. Only, you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Geto lounging on your bed in a black hoodie and grey sweats—his long legs hanging off the edge so he could spread his knees, accentuating the very obvious bulge between his thighs.

He gave you a wry smirk when he caught you staring. 

"Should learn to lock your doors, sweetheart. Never know what kind of creep might sneak in."

Finding him sitting on your bed, uninvited, should terrify you more than it did, and all the alarm bells going off in your head clearly indicate that you should tell him to leave instead of standing there clutching your towel to your chest.

"What are you doing here, Geto?" you asked quietly.

He blatantly ignored your roused suspicion, unable to stop himself from thinking about how cute you looked, skin soft and dewy from the shower you just took, a scowl painted on your features. 

Fuck. He wanted to ruin you, to see how flustered you could get, no matter how many cheap praises he whispered into your ear.

Although tonight, he was set on seeing what you hid behind a thin layer of fabric, finally having what he’d been craving for months. You just needed a little encouragement, that’s all.

Because he was tired of waiting.

Geto sat up, then, now so close that he could reach his hand out and grab your towel. And he did, tugging you closer and watching in amusement as you stumbled between his spread knees on coltish legs.

Finally, he met your gaze: "Isn't it obvious why I’m here?"

You swallowed. "Geto, I—"

He watched your confidence crumble a little when his hands snaked up your thighs under your towel, up, up, up until you were shivering underneath his fingers. 

"I-I made it clear that I didn't want to talk to you anymore."

His brow arched. "Yeah? You don't want to talk to me?” He swiped a thumb through your folds, and you gasped in shock, trembling. “Then why are you so wet?”

Geto could tell that you wanted to deny it, even as he pulled his hand out from under your towel to show off your shiny arousal clinging to his thumb, the pink string lights hanging around your room making it more glaringly obvious.

“I-I’m not—”

“I-I’m not,” he mocked meanly. 

His eyes swam with the same flicker of intensity he showed you that day you told him you were a virgin. Although this time, it swallowed his gaze entirely—the soft brown of his irises washed away by something that had your body betraying you with another rush of slickness between your thighs.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl. Leave the towel on the floor,” he said under his breath, patronizing. “And don’t make me say it again.”

Your back was in an uncomfortable arch as Geto curled over you from behind, large hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

“What do they have that I don’t, hm?” 

You ignored how your stomach plunged at the mere fact that he might’ve been jealous, that perhaps he cared just a little.

“Bet you were whoring yourself out for them, huh?” He sneered, grasping your hair and tugging so you were looking up at him upside down. The odd angle had you wincing in discomfort, and he laughed humorlessly. “You know what I think? I think that you’re secretly a little slut.”

“N-not a, ah, not a slut.”

He slapped a hand down against your ass just to hear the sharp cry he knew you couldn’t hold in, enjoying the pretty picture of tears prickling the corners of your eyes. “Liar.”

“M’ not,” you pleaded as the impact of the next blow against your tender flesh had you gasping for air, your empty cunt clenching almost painfully.

Geto smoothed his hand over the curve of your ass, smiling when you flinched. You looked so fucking wrecked, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. “Prove it then,” he said. “Prove that you’re only a fucktoy for my cock.”

You wracked your brain, head too dizzy with how fast this was happening to think properly—

“K-kiss me first,” you babbled.

"How about you beg me first," he threw the word back in your face. 

You didn't answer—everything you wanted to say was choking up in your chest. The smile Geto gave you was uncharacteristically sweet, yet it didn't meet his eyes, and he laughed. “Or are you too dumb to think already?”

“Please, kiss me,” you sniffled, lips wobbling. The sight made Geto’s cock twitch.

So fucking pretty, he thought.

You knew he would at least give you this when his eyes slightly softened.

Then his mouth was on yours. Heavy and unforgiving, teeth clacking and nipping at your lips. The familiarity of his lips soothed the overwhelming feeling in your chest and made you feel like you were touching the ground again. 

He always made your brain scramble whenever he kissed you, turning thoughts into air. And you didn’t even realize that he was lining himself up with your entrance. 

His cock heavily slid against your slit once, twice. Up and down, and back up again. You whimpered when he nudged your clit, parting you open slowly. It nearly gave you whiplash with how gentle he was being compared to how he treated you moments before.

"Open up for me, baby."

It was embarrassing when you parted your knees, showing him a part of your body that nobody else had seen before—

"Ah!" you squealed when he unexpectedly pushed in to the hilt, your walls straining to accommodate the new feeling of fullness and trying to push him out. You cried and squirmed in his hold—the stretch too much as you took big gulps of air to make room where there wasn't.

"Huh, looks like you still had a cute little virgin cunt after all," he grunted, jerking deeper inside.

Geto didn't even give you a moment to adjust to his length before he was roughly pounding into you, his balls slapping against the sore flesh of your ass. And all you could do was lay there and take it.

He loved this part, feeling a virgin pussy stretch around him for the first time. It made his stomach twist and his head fuzzy—he swore it was better than getting high.

Suddenly, he shoved you into the mattress, his hands pressing against your shoulder blades to prevent you from moving. The new angle had his cock going deeper, pushing against a soft spot deep inside you that felt nearly devastating when his tip hit it again and again.

Your thighs were shaking, no longer able to control the lewd noises leaking from your lips. The tight coil in your abdomen had you twitching, only coiling tighter as Geto continuously abused that sensitive spot in your cunt. It was so overwhelming and intense that you nearly burst when Geto reached between your legs to play with your sticky-hot clit.

It twitched violently against the rough pads of his fingers. "'m gonna—"

"Shut up," he sneered, his voice dangerously low before shoving your face further into the mattress with a hand at the back of your neck. "Shut up and cum."

No sounds left your mouth, your body seemingly obeying his command. Your thighs clenched, trying to close, but his broad body prevented you from pushing him away. And then—

“Fuck —look at that,” he groaned as you felt a gush of liquid spray between your legs, splashing his thighs and getting the blankets under you sopping wet. All you could do was sob, overwhelmed by how fast he made you cum.

He gave you a rough thrust, a long whine slipping out of your throat. “Gonna fill this pussy nice and full. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

With your face pressed into your comforter, it prevented you from shaking your head no; the only sound coming out through the mouthful of cotton is an mmph, nearly choking on your own drool.

“I’m ‘gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine—shit, keep squeezing me.” He released a feral moan. "Just like that! Good girl."

Geto held you still, his mouth attaching to your shoulder to muffle the loud groan rumbling in his chest as his balls twitched and drew up almost painfully. His hips pressed flush against yours to cum as deep as your cunt would allow, trying to make it stick.

"Fuck," he panted.

Afterward, he tangled you up in his arms, his soft cock still nestled in your snug, tacky-wet walls. Cuddling was the last thing you expected, but you decided not to bring it up lest he got upset.

Nor did you say anything when you noticed the small bloodstain on his grey sweats after getting dressed and his slightly bruised knuckles pulling the cotton up over his hips. You never brought it up, not even as your date from Saturday showed up to class with a suspicious swollen lip and a black eye.

And you didn't ask if Geto wanted to hang out after class. It had just been sex—a one-time thing.

He'd already gotten what he wanted and left. That was always how this would play out: no extra dates or late-night texts. Guys like Geto didn’t do str—et cetera.

You knew this. 

You knew.

However, the dark look he shot Gojo when he pulled you into his lap for movie night could make you believe otherwise, that maybe it was more than sex—

—it was probably best just to keep your mouth shut.

A few weeks later, Geto muffled low groans into his shirt caught between his teeth as he fisted his cock to a picture of you—because you were avoiding him again. 

But that was okay, silly, that you ever thought you could. He already had it planned out how he’d have you again, and just the thought of feeling your tight cunt wrapped around him had Geto painting his stomach white.

EGOIST 14.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. plot, angst, sleeping around, atsumu's shenanigans

A/N. beep

-> MASTERLIST.

Atsumu might like you. 

He probably does, but it feels weird and foreign coming out of his mouth, let alone being a thought in his mind.

Never would he have thought he’d have feelings for the likes of you. Romantic, at that.

You were annoying and pesky and there was a point in time  where he’d hate being in a room with you. But somehow you made all of those nasty wants fade away. 

He thought that it’d be easy being so fucked up towards you and steering away from your presence. But then you did avoid him. So he thought finally apologizing to you and not being a dick to you would finally free him. But again, it didn’t.

All of these weak attempts of getting away from you and these thoughts of you were pointless if at the end of the day, you’d still live in his head.

And you don’t even know what you do to him. You make him want to be a good person, to not sleep around with all these women. To tip his drivers. It’s gross and not like him at all. Every word he says to you doesn’t feel like him because every word is full of genuinity and kindness. And it’s scary.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself here. With Angie. 

To try and get rid of the thoughts of you.

He’s naked beside her own naked body, as she rests her head on his biceps. 

“I don’t know why you’re so caught up on her? Didn’t you bully the poor girl?”

“Mm, yeah, like in high school,”

She rolls her eyes before moving a delicate hand onto his chest. 

“C’mon, why don’t we just make it official? I’m tired of hearing about her. That’s all you text me about nowadays,” she looks up at him as she pouts. 

Hell no. 

“Maybe in another life, sweetheart,” he smiles weakly, beginning to slip out of the bed, “Anyways, I have to go to practice, got the playoffs tomorrow.” 

“Aw no, stay a bit,” Angie gives him her weak attempt at puppy eyes. 

“You know I can’t,” he tugs on his last article of clothing before continuing, “And Angie?”

“Hm?” 

“Lose my number,”

———

It’s a shame he had to break it off with her, she was one of his favorites. Not only that, he’s known her the longest. But sometimes things like that are for the better. 

“Hey Atsumu,” your voice calls as he walks in. 

It catches him off guard, but he returns the greeting, “Oh hey,”

He continues to the court, throwing his back down before beginning to hit his stretches. Atsumu watches as you speak to the coach, rambling about something oh so important on your clipboard.

His eyes wander up and down your figure. Part of him wonders what would’ve happened if you two didn’t stop the other night. Would you have given all of you to him?

Atsumu’s gaze follows you as you make your way to Hinata. Laughing and smiling, nodding your head before moving to the next player. Then the next, then to him. He doesn’t realize you’re in front of him until you actually say something.

“I just wanted to check in to make sure you had everything ready for the playoffs, clean uniform, any kneepads?” you asked, clicking your pen.

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, “if anything I just need a new towel I think,”

He watches as you write something down, “Alright, let me know if you need anything else,” you give him a brief smile before moving onto Sakusa.

The way the smile on your face instantly brightens at the sight of Sakusa ticks him off. But there’s not much he could do, not right now at least. 

With a clap of Foster’s hands, all the men get up from their spots and make their way towards him, commencing the final practice before playoffs.

———

Even though you weren’t doing anything physically, you felt nearly as exhausted as the boys were and you instantly fell asleep when you got home. 

And thank god that you did, if you were to sleep any later you might’ve just missed your last alarm. You’re nervous while you get ready. So nervous you can’t even eat breakfast, going for a yogurt drink in its place. You can feel your leg shake with anxiety as it holds on the brake at a stoplight.

After parking your car, you meet up with the guys as you all wait to board the bus. You can tell they’re just as anxious, if not more. Even if this is not their first playoff game, it still means so much and more to their career and for them.

You board the bus, setting your stuff down in the empty seat next to you. Taking your place at the window seat, you immediately open your phone and scroll through your socials. You post an Instagram story to the Jackal’s account as they all board. 

After clicking send, you put your phone down. Time to finally catch up on sleep.

“Y/N,” or not.

“Can I sit here?” 

When you look up you’re met with a man with a messy blonde mop of hair, smiling down at you.

“There’s like, 15 other seats you can choose from and not have a seating partner,” you reply.

“Yeah, I know. Just want to sit here, though,” he fake pouts.

You groan, “Fine,” you begrudgingly grab your bag and tuck it underneath your chair. 

You squish your jacket between your head and window to create a makeshift pillow. You can feel his eyes on you, but ignore and let slumber take you under.

———

You don’t know that you have arrived until you are awoken by a rough hand patting your shoulder.

“C’mon,” Atsumu pushes, “we’re here,”

Holding yourself back from snapping at him, you grouchily gather your things and follow him out the bus. 

You catch up to Foster and give him the itinerary for the day. The two of you discuss the day’s events as the rest of the guys follow behind you. The lot of you locate your spot in the practice gym before settling down. 

You find a little corner to sit in and open your laptop up to review some of the latest matches of today’s opponents, EJP Raijins.

As you scratch notes onto your paper, you listen to the ambience of the guys practicing. The calling for the ball, the sound of skin hitting the ball back onto the ground. 

When you’re in your zone, time flies insanely quickly. It’s scary, because you’re scared for the match. Plus it’s broadcasted on national television, and while you’re not the center of the attention, it’s still nerve wracking to think about.

After finishing what you’re able to, you hand the paper over to the coach, which he then quickly turns to the guys and informs them on the rival team’s techniques. You watch them and help guide them through new techniques and tactics they can use to counterattack. 

They go back onto the practice court and try to practice said attacks. It’s talent, how easily these men can adapt to a situation.

You gnaw on the inside of your mouth as you watch the ball go from one side of the court to the other in a matter of seconds. 

Before you know it, it’s time to go. The guys are changing into their clean uniform, fixing their appearances as camera guys begin to trickle in for any post-game interviews. 

And then it’s go time, and you follow the rest of the guys as they find their way to the main stadium.

All the guys look confident, especially so with all the cameras on them. You put on your best “confident” face as well as you walk beside them.

As you find your spot at the Jackal’s side of the court, you join the team as they huddle up one last time. Coach Foster’s voice is loud and proud as he reminds the guys of what they have been practicing. You smile before giving them a sappy, “you got this!”

The men are excused, and you’re about to head for your seat when you hear his voice.

“Y/N,” he starts, causing you to look up at him, “if we win, you have to go on a date with me,”

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

₊˚.༄ hide + seek

spooktober 2024 masterlist

☾₊‧⁺˖pairing: asylum patient!nikolai gogol x asylum attendant!fem!reader

☾₊‧⁺˖genre: angst + fluff; slightly suggestive

☾₊‧⁺˖content warnings: manipulation/mind games, infidelity, nikolai's a bit of a meanie in this one lol

☾₊‧⁺˖notes: meant to follow the events + be a side story of the get free series (between pt 1) just pretend it's still halloween okay

☾₊‧⁺˖ word count: 5.3k

"Happy Halloween!" You chirped happily, handing Nikolai a pumpkin-decorated gift bag with his favorite Ukranian candies and sweets. There was an assortment of minky binky, roshen, and ABK chocolates inside⎯which you'd learned were his childhood favorites.

Your patient paused before opening the bag and observing the treats inside. He looked...melancholic almost? He took the candies out in his hand and turned them all over to look closer at the packaging, silent.

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, unsure if you did the right thing. Your husband had warned you not to bring gifts for any of the patients⎯and especially not Nikolai⎯because it would promote unwanted feelings and attachment, but you brought them behind his back anyway. You hated how strict all the protocols in place were, and how they treated the patients like they were evil monsters instead of normal people that just needed help. After all, Nikolai wasn't a monster. To you, he was⎯

Arms wrapping around your waist and warm breath hitting the shell of your ears forced you out of your thoughts, and you yelped as you felt Nikolai's toned body pressing into yours, "Thank you, dove~" He patted your head affectionately and you felt some loose strands of his white hair tickle your face. "Halloween is actually my favorite holiday, y'know?" He hugged you closer, and you felt your back hit the wall of his holding room.

"When I was a kid, my neighbors and I used to go around the nearby houses and say 'Varyatyky or sweets!' It was meant to be a a tradition to 'overcome' evil spirits!" You nodded and tapped on his chest to tell him he was crushing you, and he finally released you from his grip.

When he pulled away, his once sad eyes were now sparkling with excitement, and you gave him a questioning look, which he seemed to catch on to, "Ah, I was a bit sad earlier because the candies you gave me reminded me of my past life," He solemnly took your hands in his, "And I've been trying to escape the old cage I was in for a long, long time. I guess it made me feel weird..."

You tilted your head in curiosity⎯you swore that every time you thought you understood Nikolai, he always threw you off again. He giggled suddenly and spun you around, catching you back in your arms and embracing you again so your back was against his chest, and you shrieked from the slight dizziness, "You make me feel all sorts of weird emotions, ptashka, but I don't hate it."

For some reason, that made you smile softly as Nikolai rested his chin on your shoulder, his heterochromatic eyes still trained on you. You placed your hands over his, which were wrapped around your waist, and paused momentarily before peeling them off of you as usual. Your eyes caught your reflection in the steel mirror off to the side. Although distorted, you could clearly see Nikolai's body wrapped around your smaller one and how relaxed you looked. It definitely didn't look like an attendant and their patient.

It felt nice. Being held like a lover felt nice.

This was bad. He was being too affectionate, and you were playing along a little too complacently. Were you really this touch-starved? Wouldn't letting another man touch you⎯a married woman⎯like this be bad in any other situation?

Your doubts and uncertainties were interrupted when Nikolai whispered into your ear.

"Love, can we go play in the courtyard later today?"

₊˚.༄

The crisp autumnal air hit your skin, but it was nice. The orange and red foliage contrasted the stark white asylum you were in all day, and the tan trench coat you threw on helped keep you cozy and warm in your short dress. Well, that and Nikolai, who was connected to you with linked arms. He would stop every few steps to squeeze you in his arms, claiming he was "too cold and needed heat" even though he refused to put a coat on.

The patients had just finished their midday snack, so he smelled like the powder-mix apple cider that was served in the cafeteria. The scent of sour apples and cinnamon was comforting enough to you, so you didn't complain much about his antics.

You exhaled, watching your breath materialize in the chilly air, "This weather...it makes me wish I could give out candy to the trick-o-treaters," you smiled sadly to yourself, "I always like decorating the house during this time of year and seeing their happy faces when they come to our door..."

Nikolai paused, stopping your steps briefly and walking in front of you, holding both of your hands now. He walked backwards, crushing leaves under his feet, "Why don't you do it tonight, then? You get off work before they start to come out, right?"

You shook your head, "No...it's been four years since the asylum opened, and in those four years, my husband has always forced me to work the night of Halloween, so I can never celebrate." You paused, looking up to see some doves flying in the sky, but Nikolai pulled your head back down to him.

"That's a shame, dove. If you were with me, we could dress up in matching costumes together and surprise all the kids," He started skipping frantically, pulling you away from the main area of the courtyard, "Oh! I could do your hair and makeup, too, I'm pretty good at that sort of stuff, y'know? I could even make you a custom costume!" You squealed as he started to skip faster, spinning you in circles and making you dizzy. You were both getting farther away, the fountain no longer in sight.

He pulled you close to him again, his blue and green eyes wildly piercing into your shaky pupils, "If you just left him, we could make that a reality, myla." His hands grasped your arms tighter and your lightheadedness was making his words feel hypnotic, "Why don't you just leave him already? You don't even love him, do you? He hurts you; you hate him. And I hate him even more. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I fucking ha⎯"

"Ahh⎯Ow⎯" You gasped sharply from the pain of Nikolai digging his nails into your arms and pulled away from his tight hold, mind still a bit hazy. "S-Stop it, just stop it, Nikolai..." He gave you a disapproving glare, but you continued, "He's my husband and my boss, so I have to obey him. I can't just up and leave him whenever I wan⎯ack⎯!" You stepped backwards and stumbled on a stray boulder, and time felt like it went slower as you lost your balance and toppled onto the ground, your back and head hitting the dirt.

You groaned in pain, feeling the ache in your skull. Your patient, however, didn't seem too concerned and only sneered when he watched you hit the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him and felt his presence as he crouched down to assess you for any injuries. Nothing too serious.

He giggled manically while picking some dried leaves out of your hair, "Say, dove, if you really miss the kids, why don't we play a childish little game?" You grunted and tried to swat his hand away, but the dull throbbing in your head prevented you from being successful.

You tried to glare at him, but a chill ran down your spine when you glanced over to see a wide grin on his face and the same dark, unreadable look clouding his eyes, "Hmmm, why don't we play hide and seek? It's a fun game, right, ptashka?" He gleamed brightly at you again but barely gave you a chance to object, "Yeah, that sounds fun, doesn't it? How about you count to thirty and then come look for me?!"

You winced again, placing your hand over your head to try and alleviate some of the pain. How desperately you wanted to scream at Nikolai to stop and help you, but the constant pang blocked you from doing so. He tilted his head innocently, "Oh, a prize, you ask? Well..." He pondered mockingly, "What about winner decides? And no cheating, okay?" He took your phone and walkie out from the pocket of your trench coat and shut down your phone so no one could track or contact you. You whined when he threw a part of your coat over your eyes to blind you.

His presence left you as he dusted himself off and stood up again, "Thirty seconds, okay, myla?" You tried to reach for his foot, but he was long gone, and all you could do was listen to the distant crunching of leaves and hysterical giggles grow farther away from you.

Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven...

₊˚.༄

The sun had set by the time you opened your eyes again, finally mustering up the strength to get off the ground. You rubbed your back and looked around⎯it had probably been closer to thirty minutes since Nikolai had ran away.

Internally, a tick set off in your head telling you to look for him. You checked your empty pockets and decided that you should try and catch him first before reporting anything. After all, he was technically your responsibility, and the thought of your husband hounding you over losing a patient hurt your brain more than the spinning pain.

You tried to think rationally⎯if you had woken up on the ground, then surely no one had noticed both of your absences or caught Nikolai. Just calm down and try to find him.

You looked around, trying to guess where he'd ran off to, but the ground didn't give you any clues as to which direction he'd gone. Not that you were surprised, though, since he had plenty of experience running away.

It's fine, it's just a silly game⎯he didn't really run away or escape. You tried to calm your mind and think of a plan to get him. Deciding that treating this as a game would help your sanity, you cupped your hands around your mouth, "R-Ready or not, here I come!" You squeaked out, your shaky confidence showing through your voice.

You ran towards the fountain, hoping Nikolai would be there since he was always drawn to the koi fish and rose garden. You walked towards the direction of the structure, the crisp air filling your lungs as you frantically looked for him. Calm down, he's definitely there. You smiled to yourself, envisioning him playing with the fish or tossing rose petals into the water pools of the marble fountain. It was a ten-minute walk, so you tried to enjoy the fresh breeze blowing through your hair and massage the knots in your strained back.

What you weren't expecting was...nothing. There was just a maintenance worker tending to the garden and pulling out weeds. No sign of your patient. You walked around, looking behind every bush and up into each individual tree, but you still saw nothing. The gardener would glance at you occasionally, but you kept searching tirelessly, trying to go beyond the bounds of the elaborate labyrinth to see if he was hiding in a more inconspicuous spot. Still no luck.

You mustered up the courage to go up to the worker and see if he'd be any help. Maybe it was cheating, but you were starting to get impatient and doubt was beginning to sink in.

You cleared your throat, "Ahem," the worker turned around, "Excuse me, but have you seen anyone pass through here recently?"

The old worker smiled, the corners of his mouth crinkling upwards in a smile, "Well, yes, actually⎯lots of people. Anyone in particular you were looking for?"

You breathed a sigh of relief, "Have you see a tall man with white hair? It's probably in a braid, and he has heterochromia⎯one eye is green and the other is a bluish-gray with a vertical scar," The gardener only gave you a confused look, "...he's pretty young and fit..." You trailed off, concerned by the look you received.

The elderly man scratched his head, "I haven't seen anyone like that around." He paused, recognizing your attendant uniform, "Is he your patient? We can get security involved if it's a serious problem. Actually, let me radio the bos⎯"

You grabbed his hand apprehensively once you saw him reach for the walkie on his belt, "O-Oh, sorry, I just remembered I handed him off to another attendant." You let out a fake laugh, trying to reassure him no action was needed. No matter what, you couldn't get your husband involved.

The worker eyed you cautiously but then shrugged, "They really overwork you attendants so much you start to forget things, huh? I've heard you're understaffed."

You forced out another laugh and nodded, "Haha, yeah, they do..." You perked up, smiling as another precaution, "Thank you for your help, though, sir! I-I'll be on my way now, so please resume your work." You waved to him and started walking back towards where you fell.

"Young lady! Where are you headed off to? The asylum's back there!" Your eyes widened at his voice calling out after you, but you turned again, feigning confidence.

"Just taking a walk to clear my head!" You waved again, and he shrugged and tipped his hat to bid you farewell. You turned around and cursed yourself silently, both for acting suspicious and still not finding Nikolai.

As soon as you couldn't see the old gardener anymore, you started sprinting, hard, back towards your starting point. The fall air was now burning your lungs and your heart was beating violently fast, swelled with anxiety about the whole situation, and the fact that Nikolai could very well be gone by now. And it would all be your fault.

A pit formed in your stomach as you thought of all the potential repercussions you'd have to face, but also at the thought of never seeing Nikolai again. Of knowing that was your last interaction. Somehow, the thought made you want to run faster. It felt like you had to find him.

₊˚.༄

The forest. You hadn't checked the forest yet.

It was darker now, the once coral sky had turned navy blue, and the sky was much dimmer. Almost two hours had passed, but you still hadn't found Nikolai.

Despite the cold, you were sweating from anxiety. There was no way you lost him. Maybe if you called for him, he would come out of hiding? He did seem to have some sort of obsession with you. You looked around again before stepping closer to the mass of colorful trees.

"Miss, is everything alright?' You whipped your head around to see the second-to-last person you'd want to encounter at the moment⎯Lacey.

Her blonde bob was swaying from the light breeze and her emerald eyes shined with fake concern, "Where's your patient? Gogol, right? Nikolai Gogol?" She ran up to you and tried to reach for your arm, but you stepped away before she could touch you.

Somehow, you felt strange. No one had ever said Nikolai's name before, as they were too scared to acknowledge him because of all the crimes he'd committed. The way his name flowed off her tongue in such a tender way irked you for some reason.

"He's fine." You mumbled, forgetting to add a nicer tone to your voice. You coughed suddenly, remembering that Lacey was likely there for a reason, and that she'd run off to the boss immediately if she caught on to the situation at hand. "Ah, did something happen? You should be done with work by now, right? It's late."

Lacey shifted, peering over your shoulder like she was trying to look for your patient; you felt your palms getting clammy. "Well, you and Gogol have been gone for two hours, and your walkie and phone both aren't able to be contacted. The boss sent me to look for you because he was worried about you both..."

Worried, sure. Definitely not just because he was a control freak that needed to know your wherabouts all times. She gasped dramatically, bringing a hand up to her mouth, "He didn't run away, did he? He isn't with you⎯" her brows furrowed and she looked around, "Should we call security? They can deploy helicopters and dogs to search from him!"

You felt a lump in your throat when she said that, fearful of her taking action and exposing you. You reached for her shoulder reassuringly, "Oh, well, there's no need for that," you raked your mind for any sort of plausible excuse, "Nikolai's just...um...using the bathroom! He's in the woods right now, so I'm just waiting for him to finish." You tried to laugh to throw in some emotion, "Sorry I didn't tell you in the first place. It's kind of TMI and embarrassing!"

Lacey stared at you suspiciously but nodded slowly, "Oh...I see." She grimaced at the thought, "Men are really gross, aren't they? For a patient to do that...how uncivilized..." You forced another painful laugh and agreed with her, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself to shield your shaking body. You couldn't tell if she was dumb enough to believe you or not.

Lacey smiled at you, "Why don't I wait with you, then? Once Nikolai comes back, we can all walk back to the white ward, and then I'll go home!"

Your mouth felt dry. Shit, you were really going to be caught now. You couldn't tell her that you still didn't know where your patient even was. For all you knew, he could've successfully escaped the asylum premises by now. You tried to open your mouth to object, but you didn't know how to do so without making yourself look more suspicious.

Think. Think. Think, damnit.

Lacey's humming made your head hurt, but you suddenly thought of another excuse, "Oh, Lacey, could you actually bring me a new walkie? My old one and my phone died earlier, so I gave my walkie to a guard and asked him to bring me a new one, but he never did." You clasped your hands together, "They should be in the break lounge, and you can ask IT for help configuring it. That way, I can radio in, and you can head home!" You hoped that convinced her, and luckily her eyes lit up at your suggestion.

"Sure! It's honestly a little cold out here, so I'll go back inside to get you a walkie." She pouted, "I kind of wanted to meet Gogol. He's stuck to you all the time and hates all the other attendants...I'm sure we would get along, though!"

Lacey flashed the brightest smile at you, and you had to restrain yourself from throwing a rock at her sly face as you adjusted your coat. Certainly she didn't think Nikolai would make an exception for her⎯she was way too irritating and two-faced. "Well anyways, I'll head back. I'll come back to this spot afterwards with some guards to get you and Gogol." She waved goodbye to you in a childish manner before skipping away, and you watched intently until she became a small dot in the distance.

Your palms got sweaty again as you realized you had thirty minutes at most to find Nikolai. Your heartbeat increased as you ran into the forest and looked up into the branches, hoping to catch sight of him.

Still unsuccessful, you started to panic. "Kolya!" You cried out, cupping your hands over your mouth to project your shouts, "Kolya, where are you?" You ran deeper into the woods, dirtying your clean shoes and getting scratched by branches along the way. It was dark and the foliage covered the light, so you couldn't see very well.

The hairs on your neck stood up, and you heard some distant rustling. Looking up, all you saw was a dove in a tree, feeding some of the babies inside its nest. You stopped to stare for a bit before moving on, going deeper into the mess of shadows. Anxiety kept creeping up on you as you continued shouting Nikolai's name.

"Kolya, please! I give up, so you can come out now! Please, come out, please⎯" You kept running, and your throat felt dry as everything started to dawn on you. You'd been wandering for ten minutes. It was getting late, and beads of cold sweat stuck to your skin. Your body still hurt. Lacey and the guards were going to be here soon, and when they were here, they'd find out you were lying about everything, and Nikolai was actually nowhere to be found. You'd lose your job and very livelihood. Your husband would get angry and take it out on you and your family. You'd be locked away for aiding a global criminal in escaping one of the most secure places in the world. Or even worse, you'd be declared mentally insane and be stuck here, as a patient for your husband and Lacey to look down on. It was all your fault for believing you could trust Nikolai or be his friend.

Your back hit a tree trunk, and you slid down slowly, curling up into a ball. Tears flowed out of your eyes, and you whimpered to yourself. You felt ashamed and alone. For a moment, you felt used. You cried, feeling desperate. You couldn't believe you were about to ruin your life over conflicted emotions you had over an insane man. You should've just been a good, compliant wife and not follow your heart. You should've never tried to seek freedom.

"K-Kolya," you sobbed silently, "I just wanna see you...one more t-time. Don't leave me please, you..." You're all I have. You're the only person in this world I can really talk to. You couldn't speak the words out loud, in denial over your forbidden feelings. You closed your eyes as you sobbed, only looking up when something small and hard got crushed under your shoe.

You wiped your tears and nose with the sleeve of your coat, eyes focusing on a white and red striped circular object on the ground. A minky binky⎯one of the candies you'd gifted Nikolai. You got up slowly upon seeing several more leading deeper into the woods, resembling a trail of Ukranian candies.

Your feet started to pick up their pace as you followed the trail, stopping when you got to a clearing, where a short stump was surrounded by an assortment of dried leaves.

Your teary eyes widened when you finally saw your patient, glowing from the moonlight and with a dove perched on his hand. Nikolai released the bird into the night sky and smiled at you in a melancholic way. "Oh, you found me. Took you long enough, ptashka. You really are terrible at hide and seek."

Without hesitation, you ran into his arms, wrapping yourself around his frame. You helplessly gripped onto his sleeves and dug your face into his shoulder, not wanting him to see any evidence of your tears from earlier. "...I didn't think you would run away so far...I thought I lost you..."

Nikolai only laughed. "Dove, honestly," he said cheerfully, "You were never going to find me, I'm far too clever for that!" He pulled you away from his shoulder, but what he didn't expect was your face, illuminated in the moonlight, with tears clinging to your eyes and your lips and nose swollen from your earlier weeping.

"K-Kolya, please don't leave me again," you wiped your eyes and sniffled, "I was so s-scared⎯"

Nikolai's faced softened and he embraced you in his arms, stroking your hair gently and trying to comfort you. This was...strange. He'd never seen you display such strong feelings of emotion or sadness. And to think you were crying over him of all people...he didn't hate the fact he was making you cry, but it bothered him that it wasn't because he wanted you to cry. A small frown appeared on his face and his heart felt...slightly heavy from seeing you in this state.

He spoke in a soft voice, trying to reassure you with his presence. "Hey, dove...I didn't mean to make you cry, really…I was just trying to make it a little harder for you to find me, I wanted to surprise you." You continued sniffling and Nikolai used his thumb to wipe away more of your tears, trying to make them stop. "Why...Why are you so sad?"

You covered your face in embarrassment, ashamed of breaking down in front of your patient, "I⎯", you started, head screaming at you to shut up and step away, but your lightheadedness made you more vulnerable, "I thought I was going to lose my job, and I didn't want my husband to find out about us," Nikolai's head perked up, but he rubbed your back.

"Was that the only reason?" He stared into your eyes sympathetically, but also like he wanted to hear more from you.

"No...I also...was scared I'd never see you again." You exhaled shakily, "Your mannerisms, our conversations, you always holding my hands or hugging me, I don't...I don't hate it...They've made my dull life somewhat more interesting." You looked away, "If I lost that...if I lost you, I would feel so empty again. You make me...happy for some reason."

Your patient's eyes widened. Nikolai made you...happy? But he wanted to make you free. Or was he just using you to alleviate some of his boredom? Wasn't making you happy the same as him committing himself to you, and you tying him down by making the two of you codependent? But that was what he was trying to escape from...he wanted to be free from the control and ideals of others.

You went on, talking about how Nikolai was the only person you could talk to about your personal life, how he made you feel special at times, but Nikolai's own inner thoughts drowned out your words. Stop. Stop it. Stop your babbling. He fumbled a lollipop out of his pocket and stuck it into your mouth, silencing you like a baby with a pacifier. His eyes brightened, overwhelmed by you. Your eyes wavered, not being able to handle the intensity of his stare, and the same thought plagued both of your minds.

Were you catching feelings for him? Was he more attached to you than he thought he was?

Nikolai caressed your cheeks, drying the last of your tears with his dampened sleeve. He slowly kissed your eyelids, catching the saltiness of your teardrops. "Myla, the words you're saying and the game you're playing...you could make a sane man mad."

You blushed, suddenly being hyper-aware of the fact you were both alone. The thought made you shudder. Anything could happen and no one would see.

"Are you cold, dove?" You yelped when Nikolai's strong arms pulled you into his lap, so you were straddling him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and squirmed awkwardly to try and get off, but he firmly held you in place. He dug his face into the crook of your neck, "Oh, your skin's freezing. Should I warm you up?" He smirked playfully before biting down lightly on your neck, making you jerk up and gasp. He started kissing the mark, simultaneously holding your legs open and rubbing circles on your thighs. A small moan left your throat, which you instantly regretted, and you tried to close your legs, but it was no use.

You squeezed his shoulders, "H-Hey, what are you doing⎯s-stop⎯"

Nikolai giggled mockingly, "I technically won our little game of hide and seek, so this is my reward. Winner got to choose, remember?" He continued littering your neck with kisses, "I want you to treat me like your lover for ten minutes, or until we get caught." His dark eyes cut into you, "Otherwise, I'm really running away. And you won't be able to stop me." You whimpered as he licked down your skin, baring his teeth against your sweet spot, about to leave a hickey.

You mustered up some strength to push him away, "W-Wait, you can't leave a mark then." He frowned, staring up at you. You sighed, feeling defeated but knowing you didn't have any other option but to comply with his wishes, "Kiss...lower instead. The marks won't be visible..." Your cheeks flushed as you threw off your coat and slowly undid the buttons on your uniform, the dress falling down your shoulders and stopping right under your collarbones.

Nikolai watched as the fabric dropped and nuzzled into your exposed skin, "So soft..." He kissed down your collarbones, dragging his tongue with each kiss. You moved your hands up to tangle in his white messy hair, pulling him closer as he made his first mark above your collarbone, the feeling of his teeth biting down making you jolt and press down farther into his lap.

One of his hands left your waist to pull your dress down further, and you gasped as the cold air hit your chest. You tried to instinctively cover up, but Nikolai was already palming one of your tits through your lace bra and kissing the other. He groaned from finally being able to explore your body more, and you could feel the tent in his pants pressing against your panties.

"S-Seriously, Kolya..." Your skin felt hot, the feeling of being this desired feeling foreign to you since you and your husband barely got intimate...and when you did, there wasn't any real love or passion to it. Having someone worship your body like this⎯it made you want more.

You pulled on Nikolai's hair and gently rolled your hips to press down more on his bulge, drawing deeper groans from him. "Myla, a-ahh, you're so pretty..." He kissed in between the valley of your breasts and looked up at you, "You should just be mine and mine alone." He sucked on the exposed part of your tit and marked another spot there, kissing it afterwards. He repeated his motions on the other breast, his touch making you whine, the sound being absorbed by your lollipop.

"Mmm...your skin is so nice...I wonder how sweet you taste, ptashka." His other hand was still caressing your inner thigh, and it was dangerously close to slipping inside your lacy underwear. He could just⎯

"Miss! Mr. Gogol! Are you in there?" You both stopped as you heard Lacey's shouting voice and saw cut-up rays of light through the tree trunks. She had come back as promised with guards, evident by the heavy footsteps coming towards your direction.

"Ah, I guess our time's up, then? Too bad..." Nikolai sighed disappointedly, teasing you with one more bite over your bra, earning a surprised yelp from you, and you hurriedly re-did your buttons. Nikolai looked upset, wishing you could've gone further, but deep down, he knew this little back-and-forth game between the two of you wouldn't end anytime soon.

He got up slowly from the stump and swiped the cherry-flavored candy from your mouth, savoring the taste of you on it. You pouted, but he only laughed at you in return, slowly walking away as you picked the twigs and leaves off your trench coat. He stuck his tongue out before licking the lollipop, "Don't be sad dove, I'll taste you someday~"

You ran up to meet him and tried to get the blush off your cheeks, already trying to think of a lie to tell everyone on the long walk back. He intertwined his hand with yours, giggling to himself as Lacey and the guards finally came.

He was sure you'd scream when you saw the hickeys at home, which he'd purposely left in a diamond formation, like the ones on playing cards. That way, you wouldn't forget he was the one who marked you, and that your heart belonged to him.

gege said canon gojo was incapable of normal relationships and people forreal took that as womanizng and not that he is actually so fundamentally burdened by jujutsu society and responsibility he would never ever want someone he loves to bear that with him or for him . anyway

Shitty pervy roommate Dazai who's always just a little bit too comfortable with you. He has weird hours so you never really know when he'll show up, draped over your couch or stealing food from your part of the fridge. He never seems to be fully dressed, always has some ratty old sweats hanging low around his hips, always walks barefoot, never wears a shirt. An unzipped hoodie if you're lucky, maybe, but he always insists this is his house too and he'll wear whatever he wants. He encourages you to wear less stuff as well, always with a sly little grin that makes you wonder why exactly he's so invested in what you wear.

The walls are thin, thin enough for you to hear him moaning when he jerks off, but he's always so unashamed when you find him 5 minutes later flicking through TV channels that you never bring it up. His room is dark and always smells of weed and cheap alcohol, and you're sure it would be a mess if he actually bothered to own more than 5 things at any one time. But the rent is always on time, he never makes too much noise when he brings people over for his infrequent one night stands, and it's hard enough to find a decent place to live as is.... you can't exactly justify leaving.