Not A Weapon But A Person—capable Of Loving And Being Loved.

boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills. 

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t. 

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame. 

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more. 

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake! 

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath. 

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult. 

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists. 

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite. 

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t. 

He had you. 

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years. 

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest. 

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.” 

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s. 

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have. 

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love. 

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap. 

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.” 

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo. 

She wants to kiss you. 

“Just how much have you had to drink?” 

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless. 

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts. 

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin. 

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills. 

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire? 

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite? 

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare. 

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily. 

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment. 

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily. 

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments. 

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.” 

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy. 

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams. 

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child. 

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target. 

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him. 

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap. 

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve. 

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb. 

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair. 

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you. 

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since. 

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind. 

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering. 

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?” 

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?” 

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding. 

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection. 

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips. 

“Riddle…” 

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra. 

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love. 

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon. 

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be. 

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?” 

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response. 

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?” 

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.” 

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk. 

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/ 

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

suo. sakura. umemiya. togame. pt. 1

"...and the biggest fattest one too. How'd it take him so long to figure it out? What did it take for him to finally realize?"

𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, general cute stuff really. There isn't much to warn about :o!!! gn!reader, Togame is tall and awkward and cute and and--, Ume's precious as always!

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

✦ when he’s doting on you way more, putting your wants over everything else.

He's attending to your every need even before you realize you even need it in the first place. Need tissues? He's already pulling them out of his bag. Got a migraine? He's already handing you a water bottle and an ibuprofen. He does it so naturally too like it's second nature to him.

✦ when he uncharacteristically gets heated when someone tries to harm you.

Listen. He's usually so, SO calm even in the most intense situations, always ready to analyze before acting--a real brain over heart typa guy. But when he finds you being cornered at an alleyway? He's sprinting towards you to beat whoever's planning on hurting you without even thinking twice. Someone's bothering you in town? He's shadowing you, protecting and keeping watch.

✦ he catches himself being flustered, blushing and folding at the sight of you.

Suo rarely shows any intense emotions. If anything, it's always just a slight smile and a little teasing remark here and there. But around you though? He's smiling widely, cheeks blushing. It's hard to hide sometimes. Goodness. He needs to keep himself in check, he often thinks. He doesn't want you to find out yet. Not yet.

────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀.

✦ when he looks for you FIRST whenever he achieves something, whenever he's having a bad day--for literally EVERYTHING.

his immediate thought is you. Every time. When he sees the hybrid tomato plant you both grew from seed blooming, he's immediately sending you photos. When he's having one of those nights, tossing and turning in his sleep, thoughts keeping him awake, the only thing that's tethering him down to earth is you.

✦ when he sees you get along with the family that he built for himself.

Ume is never subtle when it comes to this. My god. He's blushing, tripping over his words, movements ever so stiff--it's very unusual to see Ume in this state. He's just so happy to see you interacting with everybody, loving each member as much as he does. He can't just swoop you off your feet and kiss you right? Not right now. Not when he's been silently pining for you for years.

✦ when he realizes his thoughts about his future always has you in it.

He often talks about his future with others, what his plans are after he graduates, where he wants to go, what restaurants to go to. Everyone notices how his thoughts always seem to gravitate towards you, always easing you into his plans with a pensive little, "Hm. Y'think they'd like to go here too? I heard them talking about the spot a couple times!", "Maaaan I wanna go here with them soon. Should I just book the tickets? Surprise them? Yeah I think I should!" Everyone's just waiting for a confession at this point, really.

────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

✦ when random things remind him of you.

he could be on their daily patrols, passing by some shops and his mind would drift off to you and how you would look in the shirt he passed by, how your face would probably light up at the taste of the anpan they're selling down the street. Goodness you never leave his mind. Day dreams about it sometimes. Suo and Nirei has caught him multiple times doing so. Always ends with an extremely flustered Sakura.

✦ when he thinks he hears your laughter or your voice, his head snaps towards the direction of the sound.

just like the above! But it's your voice. Nirei thinks Sakura's just on guard by how often he looks around quickly but Suo points out Sakura's reddening cheeks and they immediately know he's thinking about you again. Wants to fish his phone out of his pocket with trembling (and blushing) fingers to ask you where you are. Y'know... Just in case you run into trouble.

✦ when he gave you the other half of his food (he hasn't taken a single bite yet)

Sakura sometimes eats for at least 5 people so to have him offer half of his food to you when you're out eating is saying something. His hands are blushing and trembling as he's trying his best to steady them, slicing a portion of his food to place it on your plate. Of course, you give him the other half of your food too. Of course he's a blushing mess.

────────────────────────────────────────────

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

✦ finds every excuse possible to be close to you. (Subtly.)

Ever noticed how Togame always seems to bump into you at spots you and your friends frequent? How he so happened to pass by the Furin school after your classes are dismissed? Gosh you're his first real crush so he doesn't know what to do with all these feelings. He wants to see you and see you often. He awkwardly and adorably tries his damndest not to seem too obvious when he's trying to see you more to strike up a conversation but his blushing (and tall frame) doesn't help his case.

✦ when he always talks about you to the old men at the public baths he frequents.

Togame's a quiet guy. He rarely ever yaps, always getting cut off mid-sentence since he talks so.. SO slow. But when it's about you, his normal 0.75x speaking speed goes up to a full 1.0x or even, dare I say, 1.25x. He's smiling ear to ear, voice with an uncharacteristic shine to it while he's playing shogi with one of the old men. They already adore you before they even meet you. They often give Togame advice too--bring you your favorite flowers, they suggest. Take you out for a festival date, they suggest. "Soon," Togame responds, scratching the back of his neck, "M'nervous though. I can pull it off ri--" "Of course you can, kame-kun." he looks at the old men with the softest, most lovestruck eyes they've ever seen. Soon. He'll make his very first move.

✦ has caught himself staring at you from afar, smiling to himself like a damn lovesick puppy.

...on multiple ocassions, might I add. You could be yapping away with the Bofurin members, talking animatedly about the most mundane things, arms flinging to and fro to get your point across, snort laughing and head thrown back. Togame's just sat just outside the group, ever the introvert. Face propped on his hand, heart practically melting. He doesn't realize he's doing this before Choji points it out. Loudly. He's immediately looking in the other direction, blush creeping up his neck as he struggles to keep the smaller Shishitoren member in check. While he's preoccupied, it's your turn to stare back at him, hiding a blush behind your hand. Suo notices this and points it out. Now the both of you are flustered messes.

a/n: tried my hand at a new layout!! eeeee inspired by my favorite perfume house but we're not opening that can of worms right now, lest I yap. ANYWHOSIES thank you, dear reader, for getting this far. I am smooching your forehead tenderly with consent.

[ hopeful is your love exposed in daylight–; in which hiiragi walks into pothos just as umemiya tells you to never give up for your crush will succeed // a/n: hopefully not too ooc... ik this man is awkward af ]

hiiragi knows about your crush on him; actually, maybe now he knows about it too well. he'll give you credit, before anything though– you were pretty damn good at keeping it under wraps. you were meticulous.

if you were giving him a gift, you'd make sure to give them to some of the others too in a way that it would take careful notice to figure out that his had a lot more effort put into it than the others.

you didn't talk to him more sweetly than you did with anyone else. you bandaged his wounds every now and then, but then again, you did that to everyone else too. nothing you did could qualify as special treatment.

you just had... exceptionally bad luck, that's all. hiiragi had to pity the fact that your best friend's adoptive brother was a loudmouth– it was honestly a miracle he hadn't caught umemiya's careless blabbering about your crush on him earlier.

it truly was just bad luck that sakura and co. happened to be in the building too. maybe if his dumbass romance sensor hadn't gone off full blast, and suo hadn't started giggling, your ragtag gang would have been able to scramble an excuse up on the fly when he'd walked in to pothos.

and maybe, hiiragi himself was also to blame. maybe he should've kept a straight face when he opened the door right as you told umemiya to shut the hell up. and maybe he shouldn't have crowed a stunned, "what the hell?" which then prompted you to sprint out of the café without a second thought.

"you idiots, look what you've done!" kotoha was the first to yell, jabbing a very accusatory finger at all the boys piled into her café. "what happened to subtlety, huh? keeping secrets? being mindful of others feelings!?"

"weren't you yapping with (name) too?" sakura pointed out dryly. he didn't seem to care, now relaxed that main source of romantic feelings (you) were gone.

"that's not the point–!" she argued back.

they launched into a predictable squabble, dragging suo, nirei and practically the entirety of fuurin into the argument, but for all he'd done, it was surprisingly umemiya who made the most sensible call by innocently blurting out, "shouldn't you go after (name)?"

"ume, why would the person who just got dumped want to see his face?" kotoha interjected, scowling. hiiragi grimaced at the choice of words.

"i didn't dump anyone–,"

"– and that might as well have been a metaphorical rejection," suo quipped, calmly sipping his tea. someone was clearly enjoying the drama. "but if it wasn't a total rejection, then i believe it would be best for you to quickly clear up that misunderstanding," he slyly added.

and that was how hiiragi found himself snooping through all the nearby alleyways as he tried to find you after everyone had unanimously agreed with suo's advice.

he had called out your name aimlessly, the clamminess of his balled up fists annoying him as the whole ordeal gave him mild indigestion. come to think of it, he idly pondered while crunching a tablet with his teeth, the current box of meds i have are from (name) too.

he hadn't thought too hard about why you had the exact brand of medicine that he usually had on hand– he just assumed maybe you needed it too, without questioning why it was fully sealed and unused when you'd wordlessly passed it to him. the more he thought about it the more random– er, well, what he thought was random– occurrences kept flooding into his mind, all in which you'd treat him so sweetly.

his first question was, 'why?' it wasn't like hiiragi had a low self-esteem or anything, but he had to say that there were objectively better looking and more charming people than him.

hell, he was certain he only ever a handful of proper conversations with you– everything else was a variety of random small talk ranging from greetings to nagging about being careful to not get hurt.

you were way too meticulous, if he was being honest. how the hell was he supposed to notice if you never said a thing!?

when he'd finally found you, you were tucked away behind one of the many restaurants, hidden away behind a stack of crates knees drawn up to your head as you buried your face into them.

"it's over, kotoha," you called out without raising your head. hiiragi froze in place, awkwardly debating whether he should clarify he wasn't kotoha. and yet, out of a guilty sense of curiosity, he stayed quiet. "hiiragi will never like me."

that's not true, he thought, he had always been a bit fond of you. it was always amusing to see how despite your regular quietness, your steps always had a bit of peppiness to them when you would come to great customers with a big grin.

you paused for a bit, perhaps taking 'kotoha's' silence as disappointment. "look, i know what you're gonna say– that i shouldn't give up– but it's really over. did you see his face when he walked in? he fucking hates me–!"

"i don't hate you, (name),"

hiiragi's voice cracked towards the end, he realized as he cursed the boyish edge to his voice. his ears felt far too hot but with a sharp inhale, he steeled himself to face your flabbergasted gaze.

"oh my god," you croaked out, flinching like a skittish cat as you immediately jumped to your feet. "o-oh my god," you repeated, the sudden horror dawning upon you. you cradled your hands together in front of your heart, hands balled up as if to protect yourself. "i-i'm so sorry– i– i'm going to leave, so–,"

"hey, don't just– wait!" without so much as even a first thought, he lunged forward, his hands grabbing yours so you couldn't dash away. "don't go running away before you hear me out!" hiiragi didn't mean to chastise you with the same intensity that he used with his underclassmen, but at the sight of your frazzled expression, he couldn't help but sigh. "look, i know you're probably embarrassed out your mind–," that's cute, he thought absently, watching as you squeezed your eyes shut, nodding vigorously to his words, "– but won't you hear me out just this once?"

your eyebrows were gently furrowed as if you couldn't believe what he was saying, your pursed lips quivering as you tried to find the right words. out of habit, you tried to dig your nails into your palms, only to run into hiiragi's hands that were gently cradling yours.

"it's okay. you can keep doing that. i'm pretty sturdy, you know," he mumbled, reassuringly tightening his grip. "enough of that though, do you... really like me?"

the feeling of his calloused fingers against your skin burned as you swallowed down your embarrassment to meekly blurt out, "i'm... i'm sorry. i really do," you admitted, feeling the heat dance up your spine. despite the shade of the alleyway, you couldn't bring yourself to lift your head and meet hiiragi's gaze.

silence hung between you two, heavily. you could feel the embers of his gaze upon your skin. did he hate you? did he think this was awkward? does he dislike whatever the hell you guys were doing? the rush of questions were so overwhelming that it all came pouring out.

"b-but i can fix that!" you hastily blurted out.

"... fix... your feelings?" hiiragi parroted, blinking uncertainly.

"yeah, i'll make sure to stay out of your way!" you suddenly exclaimed, spurred by a bizarre kind of newfound confidence from who knows where. "if you tell kotoha when you're coming to pothos, i can just make sure i'm never there at the same time! that way, you don't have to be uncomfortable," you rambled on.

"you don't have to do that," hiiragi insisted, but you shook your head stubbornly.

"it'll just be awkward to be around your friends if i'm there," you smiled faintly, your gaze glued to the ground. "i would hate to make everyone uncomfortable." you sounded just fine again. in fact, he could tell that if he were to turn you down right there and then, you would do exactly as you were saying, with all the conviction of your heart. but he could see that you were biting your cheek every time you paused.

and to be honest, he was getting sick of it.

"listen to me, would you?!" hiiragi snapped, pressing both of his hands against your cheeks and raising your face up to meet his eyes. he didn't mean to be so abrupt, but perhaps it was just in his nature. "you won't make it awkward for anyone–!"

"y-you don't know that–!"

"– if they do, i'll deal with it." the resolute tone of his voice left you speechless. how could you argue with someone so certain? hiiragi was always charming that way– awkward, and nagging, but when it came down to it, his confidence was outstanding. and it was that confidence that kept you hoping he might feel the same.

you didn't say anything, choosing to bask in the warmth of his palms against your cheeks, relishing the feeling of his thumbs idly padding across your cheekbones to catch the overwhelmed tears that had accidentally spilled out.

hiiragi called out you name, the corners of his lips curling up in a self-satisfied smirk when you finally met his eyes out of your own accord.

"you know, i got tickets for my favourite band recently,"

"o-oh... i'm happy for you?"

"no, numbskull, i'm saying that if you're cool with it, maybe... you could come with?" why the fuck am i embarrassed now? hiiragi cursed to himself, grinding his molars together as if that would somehow make him feel less sheepish.

"you want to go... with me?" you echoed incredulously.

"i... i don't know if i like you as much as you like me, but i'd like to start by hanging out more– how's that?"

you could almost start crying again, but you held it back. "if- if you'll have me, i'd like that," you murmured, fully entranced by the triumphant grin he flashed you,

"then it's a date!"

it took a moment for you to process what he said, and when it clicked, your legs gave out. hiiragi's reflexes were quick, however, so instead of toppling to the ground, he helped you clumsily sit down on the pavement.

to be honest, that– that was a sensory overload; it wasn't just the relief that had suddenly flooded into your system, it was his palm was flat against your back, it was the first grip around your arm, it was that maddening scent of his cologne, and it was the concerned timbre of his voice as he fretted over you.

"i'm fine, i'm fine," you reassured, fruitlessly trying to calm your blushing profile by fanning yourself with one hand while the other tugged on his jacket to get his attention. "uhm, but why are you blushing?" you suddenly blurted out, curiously gazing at him.

indeed, hiiragi's face was flushed down to his neck; sure, he was acting all high and mighty, but he was just a teenage boy and he had never asked someone out before.

"for no reason! just–! don't look at me for now!" he crowed, pressing his palm over your eyes to obscure your vision– a clumsy, flustered action that reminded you of why you'd fallen in love in the first place.

hiiragi was embarrassed, yes, but the sound of your giggles echoing in the alleyway was enough to make it worth it.

UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

FAN BEHAVIOR

characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff

DICK GRAYSON

You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions

Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining

You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick

He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history

Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night

He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.

You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads

There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson

It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally

At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you

He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter 

So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing 

JASON TODD

You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him

They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”

Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. 

You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night

It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why) 

You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible

He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.

He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves. 

Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat

Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders

You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time. 

You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both 

He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody

(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)

TIM DRAKE

You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles

You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel 

You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”

Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends

At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?

You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis. 

He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss. 

You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”

Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.

After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly

You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.

During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 : ( wind breaker characters )

a/n : SUMMER VACAY IS SO BORING HNGGG, part 2/3 of long fluff scenarios

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationship — relationship thingies

𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐎 𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈, once he had you in an ambush, he was too giddy to 'kidnap' you, hence nirei had set up a wonderful idea of a café date. "ah, before anything i bought you some food from saboten! ta-dah! i saw that they have some milk bread and uhmm melon bread—also cream puffs! unless you want something savory? hold on i have some-"

you watch him, having fun with how his expression changes from one thing to another.

"oh! here, do you like these?" nirei showed you a few packet before shoving it in the paper bag and pushing the bag over the table onto you. "you can have them!"

"aki-chan, you bought a lot." you took the bag gently from its place on the table, peeking at the many contents, "this will last me for a few days."

"ah! sorry, was it too much?" he clapped his hand in a praying motion, hissing in grimace at himself for maybe being too overboard with his bread giving.

"it's fine, saboten has tasty breads anyway." you nod, taking one out of the bag and giving it to him, "there's many for us to share too."

"ah" he seems at awe as he pictures you, his blush evident, nirei scratches at his nape as he whistled to himself, "ri-right.. you're right, y/n-chan!"

despite being in a relationship with nirei, he has his moments where he does get shy on you, you noticed that it's specifically when you're acting 'like an angel!' he would say.

"i really like this date idea, aki-chan." you compliment, taking in the scene before you, nirei had taken you into a café where he managed to secure a seat on the second floor where the veranda is. the view of the townspeople below is a nice scene before the eyes.

"really? hehe.." he turns pinkish red at that.

this was a hidden gem since it is located at the second floor, not much people inside so the two of you are given privacy, "how did you find this, aki-chan?"

nirei beams, always eager to tell you informations whether it is regarding people or places that he knows and has interest about, "that's because you mentioned a few days ago that you wanted to try something new! so i gathered and asked a few people around if they know a good place and i was pointed this way."

he proudly beams, teeth out as he looks at you in a bright expression, one out of adoration. to think he even remembered your words and took it to heart.

"thank you, aki-chan."

he stiffens, looking at you in owlish wonder before nodding, "to be honest, i still don't know much about you, y/n-san." granted, the relationship between the two of you is still fresh like dews on a meadow after the rain.

"i- the reason i brought you here was for my selfish desire to get to know you more." nirei admits with a genuine passion in his eyes, reaching for your hand, "please, tell me more about you."

and there is nothing in his hand, not the iconic notebook you've seen him, nor the pen, just him, looking at you with hope and affection in his gaze.

he didn't need his stuff. everything about you, nirei would take everything to his heart.

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔, "here ya go, y/n-chan." kiryu hands you a console with a smile, his soft melodic voice always calms you down.

"thank you, just so you know, i'm not good at this game." you tell him, settling down on the couch as he hums.

"that is fine, this is just for fun."

kiryu smiles at you, his hand, bigger than yours and rougher—with how much he has fought in the past and still does, "here, this is for your character to maneuver and this is how it attacks," and although he speaks, you are distracted with the close proximity that you both share.

"y/n-chan?"

you felt fingers shift your head, delicate touch of his fingers on your cheek, "you good?" he's ever so patient with you.

"mhmm.. i am."

"heh, but you didn't listen to my explanation, didn't you?" he chuckles, pinching your nose lightly as a tease, "i will tell you again, so focus on me, y/n-chan."

true to his words, kiryu didn't performed in a competitive nature as he usually does when it comes to games, deciding to merely idle and have fun with you—although there are many times in occasion that he goes slip into a range of competitiveness before realizing what he's doing and simply relaxes.

although you are briefly aware of the fact that there were multiple times that he has allowed you to win on purpose.

alright, this is enough, he should take you seriously now! "take me seriously for our next game!"

kiryu blinks, surprise at the sudden demand before he eases into your side, "really? then, loser grants one wish of the winner." he proposes. though kiryu doesn't sport a smug look, he is pretty confident with his skills.

you're almost reluctant to disagree until you had an idea, "alright!"

"don't regret it then, y/n-chan." he chuckles.

and the next game started, kiryu, no longer going easy and in ease now started to maneuver his character in impressive ease. though his expression is stiff, his finger movements are flowing and smooth.

just as he is near the finish line with your character next in line, you smoothly shifted to press a sweet kiss on his cheek.

kiryu's finger movements halted and you took the opportunity to place first in order to win.

"i won! i hit the mark!" you cheered, brightly laughing at your win before you're pulled into kiryu's arms.

"you did not hit the mark." kiryu echoes, his hold on you a bit firm but loose enough to be able to escape. "i did!"

maybe he didn't like the idea of losing with a bet in place, moreover, you did kiss him to surpass him in the game. was there something he really want from you?

"no," his voice is breathy, "you didn't." his face neared yours, lightly pressing his lips against yours.

maybe he is right, you didn't hit the mark, but hey, atleast you still won the game.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎, it took a lot of convincing and trials until sugishita finally relents on letting you touch his hair.

it has been months into your relationship that he finally trusted you to.

now you're sitting behind him while he's slump on the couch, leaning against your thighs while he's situated on the floor, a sour look on his face as he repeatedly switch the channels of the television.

"are you comfy, kyo?" you asked, although you know the answer, sugishita won't do something he doesn't like after all.

although you happen to be an exception, with how he hates tying his hair up, always allowing it to flow freely. sugishita merely nod once to tell you he is indeed comfortable in his position.

"you know kyo, many girls would be jealous of how long your hair is, and the fact that it is in good condition." you hummed, picking through the strands to pull at the slight tangles but it is overall a good look with how once a month, sugishita do get the treated.

"hn." he grunted, "are you?" somehow, there's a smug tone in his question.

too bad you can't see his expression.

"lowkey, yes." you sheepishly admit, reaching to bunch all his hair back as you pull on them slightly, fingers starting to braid them.

sugishita threw his head back unto where your thighs are, "don't." he says, brown eyes staring at you.

there is an awful pause in between, at this point in your relationship, you've become accustomed to listening to him well to know whenever he wants to add in a 'but' in his words.

"your hair is fine."

with his eyes closed, he sighed through his nose, almost huffing as you craned your neck, leaning down to catch his expression only for sugishita to beat you to it.

"pretty." and it's almost so soft that you barely caught it, fortunately, with the close proximity, you have it to thank for.

"really now?"

he didn't want you to doubt his words, sugishita nod his head once in a serious manner.

his actions incite a small giggle to escape your lips, "maybe i should braid your hair always if you're this sweet to me." you tease your poor boyfriend who could only blink at you in reply. his mouth parting and his expression, serious.

"i am sweet."

well, he's not entirely wrong.

𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐀 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐀, "are you sure i am not heavy?" you question, sitting on his back as he does his push up—his back straight and core tight. this has been a usual with the two of you ever since you've entered a relationship with taiga tsugeura himself, a passionate man through and through. while you don't join him in his exercises, you do help him with it, like for instance, you sitting on his back now.

"nope! not one bit!"

"then isn't my help useless??" he asked you to sit on his back so he could use your weight after all, if you weren't heavy enough, then isn't it all for nothing?

taiga paused in his push up, "ah, maybe i could do plank instead then?" his arms tremble a bit as they adjusted into proper position, now finally feeling the strain but you are sure that this still is nothing compared to the amount of exercises he is used with in doing.

you watch him idly, "your back is.. sweaty." you mentioned, feeling how his sweat stick on the skin of the back of your thigh for a bit, even with him wearing a sleeveless tank top—frankly, you've remembered telling him once that it is called a wife beater shirt but taiga didn't liked it one bit.

"sorry about that babe! you can get off if you want to!" there's sheepishness in his tone as he responds to you.

you shook your head, only to realize that he can't see you before replying, "i can help you in another way?"

"oohhhh! a new exercise way?!" he seems pumped up, enthusiastic for your help no matter how small it may be.

"somewhat." you agreed, setting you feet down the wooden boards before walking in front of your boyfriend, taking a face towel that's folded neatly on the side of his bed.

it was a trend that you once saw, especially used in fanfics, hell, maybe you can do it as well, taiga looks up at you, curious but still with that awfully charming smile that you find so precious.

you lay down, slipping underneath his face so you're looking up at him.

"hi."

"hello," taiga smiled, "you're awfully close."

"i am."

you breathe in before softly explaining how it works. "so here's the deal, you can resume your push up and i can wipe them..?"

"but you're close?"

"then there's a kiss as a bonus?" you offer, a sweet smile on your lips, taiga's lips parted, looking at you in a moment of shock.

"woahhh..." was the only word he can say.

"it- it is fine if you don't want to though-" before you can finish it, you feel a small touch on your lips, your view momentarily obscured by the sight of his adams apple bobbing.

"that works for me, yoooshhh!"

safe to say, he has a newfound strength to continue even more just to steal your lips.

Helloooo, it’s really cool to see a new writing blog here!! I always get excited about scenarios/hc, especially when I have hyperfocus. Can I request Furin (Suo, Ume, Sakura, Kaji) + Togame reacting to the reader (gn or fem) looking at them intensely and they ask what the reader is looking at and the reader says "I'm admiring my future husband" (I'll leave it up to you whether this will be in front of others or when they are alone). The reader says it more as a joke (or not?) to see their reaction (although it doesn't sound like a joke)... Just established relationship, they already have a good level of intimacy. I hope this isn't confusing... Stay hydrated and stay well 💚

•⊹💌₊˚✩dear future husband ₊˚⊹♡ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji, hajime umemiya, togame jo  ✿ fluff, f!reader (mentions of being called their 'wife') ✿ a/n: hi cutie~ @kuppuru thank you for this wonderful request and for the warm welcome  ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ had so much fun making this, made myself laugh a couple times while writing these silly wb boys aaaa i wanna bite them!! hope you like it! ✿ wc: 1.4k

— you place your hand under your chin, posing all cute and dreamy-eyed, admiring your sweet, handsome boyfriend. when he catches you staring, he asks you why, and you tell him “oh, i’m just admiring my future husband.”

ʚɞ sakura -

“h-husband?! y-you want t-to get married to me!?” his face heats up instantaneously, and you could have sworn you saw a little steam coming out of the top of his head. 

“whenever you react all cute like that, i kinda do!" you exclaim, happily smiling at his crazy and very red reaction.

his imagination goes wild, and a bunch of different scenarios of what sakura pictured married life with you was like began entering his brain without his consent.

“sakura…?” he imagines you in a wedding dress holding a huge bouquet, walking down the aisle towards him, all prim and proper.

“sakura?” he imagines you two kissing as newlyweds in front of all bofurin members (umemiya is of course bawling his eyes out and yes, even his sworn “frenemy” sugishita was there as one of his groomsmen) on your wedding day.

“sakura.” he imagines coming home to you after a long day, you welcoming him back with home cooked omurice, wearing a cute little apron, and warmly embracing him as you ask how his day went.

“sakura!” he imagines going on a honeymoon with you, you two on the bed, your cute voice calling out his name, your fleeting touch caressing him all over -

all over. it was all over, sakura has blacked out. you poke his cheek multiple times, and still nothing.

“guys, sakura has crashed. error 404 unresponsive page.” you called out to suo and nirei, who were observing the whole thing, how sakura gets redder and redder every time you called out his name, and the both of them have probably figured out more or less why he was reacting that way.

“maybe that’s his way of saying, “till death do us part.” suo remarks, and you couldn’t stop giggling.

ʚɞ suo -

he tilts his head and chuckles. a little “oh?” escaping from his mouth. he was certainly curious on what made you decide that you wanted him as your “future husband” or you so claim. it was usually him that pulled some smooth talk like this, so he was surprised that you suddenly became so – bold. 

you were so cute if you thought this would fluster him.

it made him determined to retaliate and play along with your moves, as he found you ever so amusing as always. “my, my, how mature of you. already ready to take the next step?” suo teases. “i’ll be waiting, then.” he smiles. it was your turn to be flustered. you were at a loss for words, as you expected him to be a little playful, but not this much.

“cat got your tongue?” he leans in closer, and his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. he repeats this at least three times. you tried to lean in for a more passionate one, but suo raises a finger and touches your lips. “no fair, hayato. what are these baby kisses you’re giving me?” you pout. suo looks at you affectionately. “let’s save the mature kisses for when i become your future husband, hm?” 

these kind of one-liners were his specialty. his forte. and you were in his territory, so of course suo, the competitive little devil that he is, wastes no time to put you in your place. 

ʚɞ kaji - 

he looks at you for a moment, as if in deep thought. kaji finally stands and says: “im leaving.” 

you worry that you might have tested his patience for some reason, as you have been trying out some pick up lines on him nonstop since this morning. he was used to your antics, so he either ignored you or waved you off but this was the only time he actually responded.

kaji looks back at you, as if waiting for you to stand up and follow him. “are you coming with me or not?” he extends his hand in invitation, motioning for you to take it.

“where?” you were so confused. kaji clicks his tongue, reaching out and grabbing your hand. 

“to go buy you a ring.” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing. 

you hold your hand up in protest. “wait, what?! i said future, ren, future! and i was joking!” he pretends to have heard nothing, putting on his headphones to tune you out and does not at all pay attention to your explanation. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but ren kaji was always full of surprises, using metaphors to get his point across, so you just waited to see what he would do. 

he drags you off to the convenience store, told you to wait outside, comes back out with a small paper bag. reaching into it, he opens his hand and unveils a wrapped candy. 

a ring pop.

he puts the ring pop on you, and you admire how the oversized candy diamond looks on your ring finger, almost sparkling in the sunlight. “i’ll get you a real ring in the future, but for now, this will do.” 

you jump up and hug him. he buries his head in your shoulder, trying to hide his small smile. 

you couldn’t stop gushing at how lucky you were and how ren kaji is as sweet as the ring pop he “proposed” to you with. 

ʚɞ umemiya - 

you don’t think you’ve ever seen umemiya smile this big at the mention of the word “husband”. his blue eyes all sparkling and lit up.

the thought of you wanting to marry him in the future or even mentioning it made him so excited, he considers the townspeople and members of bofurin as his family, but of course, you were different. you two already do lots of domestic things together, like helping him tend to his garden, cooking together (you even knew the recipe for his special umemiya soup), tucking him into bed whenever he falls asleep with his glasses on and a book on his face, and of course very intimate things that are only shared between the two of you. you’ve seen many sides of umemiya, but this one is definitely a first.

“oh, baby, the thought of that would make me so happy! i have so many siblings, and now i will have a wife too! now all that’s left is children! i wouldn’t want them to get lonely, so how’s ten?” he picks you up and spins you around, then hugs you tightly. 

“you’re not even my husband yet, and now you want to be a father?!” you giggle, peppering his adorable face with kisses. 

ʚɞ togame - 

he does not utter a word, but togame stares back at you with the same intensity, his bright green eyes making it difficult to look away. it’s as if he has captured you with his soft gaze. 

he mimics your position, his chin also resting on his palm. the two of you now looked like you were having a staring contest, but much closer and much more intimate. 

you blink. “hello? why are you looking at me like that, jou?” you ask him, a perplexed look on your face, waving your hand in front of his face.

“don’t mind me, i’m just admiring my future wife.” he remarks. “and how beautiful she is going to look on our wedding day.” he smiles, almost slyly. he was being so charming lately, always praising you and telling you how much he’s so grateful to be yours. 

you were almost tempted to be the one to get down on one knee and propose to jo togame and ask him to be your husband right there and then. 

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐘. ume, sakura, suo, kaji, togame.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mentions of alcohol, drinking it, Ume’s cuteness and extreme softness, mega warning for Ume’s I kinda got ahead of myself again (it’s longer than the others ;;), AFAB!reader, NSFW FOR TOGAME AND HIS FILTHY MOUTH, small argument in Kaji's (but he makes up for it, I swear.)

𝐔𝐦𝐞.

- responsible, of course. He doesn’t drink and would most likely be the one cleaning up after everyone when they’re wasted, handing out cold bottles of electrolytes and glasses of water. Possibly the one passing around properly proportioned drinks so he could keep an eye on everyone, handing out snacks too. The absolute best Mama Hen (Papa Rooster?) you could ask for in a house party. But if you’re the only ones awake? He sneaks in a drink or two with you. An emotional drunk. Prepare to sniffle with him as he practically thanks you for being around, for being the absolute best, for being his best friend, for making him fall in love with yo—

“You’re the best, y’know that?” He sips his drink, nursing a bottle of electrolytes in his other hand. He says it so suddenly, so abruptly, you think you misheard it. You scoot closer to your best friend, arms pressed against each other as you both lean against the wall, facing your knocked out friends. With your cheek pressed onto his shoulder, you shake your head. “Should be telling you that, Ume. The party was a success because of you. Hiragi’s parent’s antiques live to see another day.” With that, he nudges you gently with a chuckle. “C’mon let me shower you with praise, alright? Listen.” Sounding a bit serious now, he has your full attention.

He threads his fingers through yours and he squeezes once. You squeeze back. Seeing his reddened knuckles from recent scuffles, you raise your intertwined fingers to your lips to press kisses onto each knuckle as he speaks. A dusting of pink ever present on his cheeks. You swear you could hear his heart beating at the same rhythm as yours is.

“I…” He pauses, tearing his eyes away from you for a moment before he looks into yours once more. Determined. Eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I think I love you—“, another pause, he shakes his head. You squeeze his hand in return to steady him and he gives you a smile you’ve never seen him give you before. Your heart’s beating double time now. “I—I know I love you. I do. More than just a friend, a companion. I know you might not feel the same way, maybe you see me as family and that’s fine but I just—“ “I love you too, idiot.” You interrupt his overthinking before continuing, “Always have. More than a friend, actually.”

If your friends weren’t a few feet from you both he’d scoop you up and twirl you around. Hell, if he had a tail he’d be wagging it nonstop by now. Your hands, now sweaty, are still intertwined. He’s practically beaming with sunlight, ready to burst. While you’re basking in it. Your sun. Your sun.

You both kissed each other that night with the taste of cheap whiskey and electrolytes on your lips.

𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- Asian glow, meet Sakura. Sakura puts the Asian glow to shame, my guy. He’s got a tomato for a head when he drinks. You’re not even touching or kissing him, he’s just… RED. Doesn’t like getting plastered but when he does get a couple of drinks in? He’s screaming for you every second, looking for you, needing you around him. (Nirei’s sprinting to look for you, Suo’s making Sakura drink enough water, Ume’s preparing a cold bottle of pocari sweat for him.) What normally would make Sakura run away screaming would now make him actually, fully accept it. You can feel him melt into you, pressing his cheek to yours. He’s a very clingy drunk. The others don’t point it out as much. They don’t want to poke the (extremely, extremely clingy) bear.

“Where is she???” He literally screams into the crowd, getting on his tippy toes and hopping over heads just to get a glance of you hopefully walking towards him. Nirei’s already lost in the group of people, weaving through them to get to you. Thankfully, you’re just at the kitchen whipping up a couple more drinks when Nirei finally found you. “He’s at it again, huh?” You say as you take a swig from your drink, looking at a messy haired Nirei. He looks like he went through hell and back. “Y-yeah. I think you should go. He’s been groaning for you nonstop-“ Nirei then guides you through the crowd, hand on your wrist so you wouldn’t get lost.

He pulls you towards Sakura whose now lounging on the couch. You both were hoping for a relieved Sakura but instead are met with your bicolor haired lover staring daggers into Nirei and his steady grip on your wrist. Nirei immediately lets go and as he does, Sakura pulls you into his lap causing your drink to spill a little, dribbling down your cheek and your neck. “What the hell Saku—“ you’re interrupted by him licking a strip up your neck, lapping at the spilled drink. His hands grow more possessive as they hold you closer to him, kneading your flesh through your clothes.

“Missed ya,” he mutters into your neck, nuzzling his nose into it like a kitten would. “Where’d ya run off to? Been looking everywhere for you, baby.” he’s a completely different person when he’s tipsy, clingy and touchy, not really caring if your friends see him practically claiming his spot as YOUR lover. “Went to make some drinks. Don’t tell me you need me with you all the time.” You tease him. While he’d normally blush and stammer at that, he’s now pressing kisses into your cheek, smiling into each one.

“Mhm. Need ya all the damn time, angel. Don’t leave.”

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐒𝐮𝐨.

- doesn’t drink (he doesn’t eat either so—) He really just doesn’t like drinking alcohol. He gets the appeal, sure. He could go for a couple of glasses, sure. He could maybe finish 2 bottles of whiskey by himself and not feel a thing, SURE. But he doesn’t like drinking it. He’s more of like a casual enjoyer, maybe having a finger or two of whiskey on the rocks with friends. Always the one cleaning up after them (Nirei) too. But when it’s just the both of you though, it’s a different story. Sure you can’t tell if he’s plastered or not from the get go but there’s a tell. He’s more… open with his emotions.

“You look gorgeous in that dress, my dove,” you turn slowly to your lover who’s eyeing you down from beside you. You’re both at one of the booths of the speakeasy you frequent, away from curious eyes. By the way he’s looking at you, you feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes almost. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows dryly. Is he blushing? You can’t tell under the dim lighting, “Absolutely—gorgeous,” he ghosts his fingers along your curves, his gaze following the invisible path he’s drawn out. Making sure to go extra, extra slow around your derrière before he pulls his hand away to take a swig of his drink.

“What’s gotten into you tonight? Drunk already?” You say while you reach over to straighten his suit out, trying your damndest not to let your growing arousal show. You swear you can feel the booth heating up. “Drunk off the alcohol? Oh, dearest no. Off of you, however? Well…” He’s staring at you from over his rocks glass. The ice clinks as he puts it down on the table.

“How could I not? I could drink you in all fucking night.” There’s that tell. There’s the swearing. You pause, meeting his heavily lidded gaze. You swallow. “Care to give me a taste, dove?”

You feel his fingers creep up your leg and you part them so willingly. Nobody’ll peek into your booth. Not with your lover around.

𝐊𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- Lightweight to Average drinker. He’s a sleepy drunk but he doesn’t want anyone seeing him in such a vulnerable state so he often opts to bail or not drink at all. Most of the time he bails though. Not about that social drinking life. Only you could manage to convince him to come with though. You’re always met with the tiniest amount of resistance but you can manage, right? (He’s got a soft spot for you. Of course he’d go. You don’t have to ask twice. He just likes seeing you pout when he says no the first time. It’s cute.) Still, don’t get him drunk please don’t—oh no he’s got a bottle in his hand. He’s guzzling it. Oh no. Ohhh no.

You’re in Hiragi’s bed, hidden under the covers with your lover’s arms wrapped around your waist and his face resting on your shoulder now fast asleep. How’d you both find yourselves here? Well, first, Kaji ended up breaking a couple of glasses (he swears it was an accident), then almost started a couple of fights (you know how he is with his mouth), then tried napping on the couch with you while everybody’s drinking (he was complaining about the noise but… it’s a party, Kaji.) Hiragi, thankfully, allowed you both to hole up in his room for a little while to sober up. Locked inside with a couple of bottles of pocari sweat (care of Umemiya!), you’re intertwined now.

You sigh, flicking your boyfriend’s forehead gently, “idiot,” he winces, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you closer. Thank god he’s mellower now. “Ow—shit! What’d you do that for?” He rubs his forehead on your cheek, HIS cheeks slightly blushing from the alcohol. “You shouldn’t have drunk too much-“ “Well you brought me here what was I supposed to d-“ “Oh I don’t know, not drink an entire bottle in one sit—“ You feel his lips against yours, the tiny argument now forgotten. You can taste the alcohol and some sweetness from his lollipop from earlier. Then you hear something you never thought you’d hear fall from his mouth willingly.

“…sorry.” Huh. You angle away to take a proper look at him. He only grumbles and hides deeper into your neck, using the covers as a shield against from you. He’s acting so needy and soft. If he wasn’t so tipsy you would have pounced on him to pepper kisses along his cheeks. You attempt to pull the blanket down but he’s holding it so tightly. “Say that again, baby? You’re what?” You can’t hide the smile from your lips but then he pinches your side causing you to yelp. “Y’heard me the first time.” Rolling your eyes, you nuzzle into his touch. “C’mon just a tiny one? The tiniest little sowwy? Fow me?” You whisper and you’re only met with three kisses on your forehead.

“I love you. Sorry.” You smile, bringing up Hiragi’s comfortable blanket over your sleepy bodies.

“Love you too, idiot.”

𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

Is an absolute lightweight so he ends up being a sleepy drunk or doesn’t drink at all. But with you around and he’s had maybe a drink and a half in his system? He’s absolutely feral. So touchy, SO so SOOOOO horny when he’s got even the slightest amount of alcohol in his system to get him tipsy. He’s touching you, caressing your face, your arms, your ass (if you’d allow him to. The man understands boundaries.) While he’s normally so soft spoken around you, teasing you in his own silly, dorky way, he’s a different man when he's tipsy. His vocabulary is a different beast. Sloppy and direct. His 6’2” frame and entire weight practically leaning onto you for support on Hiragi’s family couch — to some he looks as though he’s dozing off. It’s anything BUT that. He’s whispering the dirtiest, raunchiest things into your ear, teasing you with that deep voice of his. He knows what he’s doing. You like it, of course.

“I’m so fucking hard right now, doll—god it’s throbbing.” He whines softly into your neck, breathing so heavily you swear his body’s quivering. That voice does things to you and he KNOWS it. “Wanna fuck yet throat. Have my cum spillin’ down yer mouth, yer chest….fuck—y’put a spell on me, didn’t ya? Makin’ me wanna fuck all the damn time.” He ends it with a chuckle, peppering slow, loving kisses along your neck, clearly doesn’t care if anybody sees you both now. “Y’know, when yer not around, I fuck my fist to the thought of ya, of yer ass bouncing on me, of yer pussy dripping into my fingers. God I wanna fuck ya so badly right now—“ You can’t help it. You cross your legs to have some relief and you shift your weight slightly, feeling your throbbing clit pressed in between.

“Crossing your legs like that—yer getting off of this aren’t you? Wanna fuck me too huh?” He whispers, drawing it out slowly with a slight purr.

You nod and you can feel him perk up a little. He eases up as he stands slowly, pulling you up with him. He’s leading you down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of your peers. They’re all too busy to care where the both of you are headed.

“There’s a vacant room ‘round back. Hiragi wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t he?”

a/n: huuurrrr pulled this out of my bum I hope you like it omg I literally wrote Togame's half asleep asjdk also feeling very bad for Hiragi and his house. kaji part dedicated to @kajibunny and our late morning rambles btw ohoho i mahal na mahal u come get your man!!!!

NOT A CHANCE

ft. Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, and Togame Jo

—Someone seems a little too eager to ask you out on a date… somehow missing your boyfriend’s sharp glare from beside you. How is the situation handled? (1.4k words)

Cw) gn!reader, getting hit on, cursing, flirting, kinda suggestive in suo’s part at the end, reader is shorter than suo in his part, reader can fight + mentioned bullying in togame’s part, some of this might (definitely) be ooc but i wrote this with 2 hours of sleep and a redbull, so its okay ..

Sakura gets aggressive…

Haruka has never been ignored like this before.

He’s been excluded, sure. But ignored? Never. With looks like his, it’s nearly impossible to turn a blind eye to him. While he might’ve been accepted for his unique traits since coming to Furin, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’ve been the very bane of his existence for the past 16 years.

Oddly enough, he’d rather have his pale eyelashes and hair ridiculed again than sit through another minute of this.

“Ah, I’ve been rambling for too long, haven’t I?” your self-proclaimed ‘childhood friend’ apologized discreetly. “How about this, you give me your number and we can plan a day to catch up without constraints. Does that sound good?”

You cringed from the guy’s insistence, but before you could turn him down, Sakura interjected.

“That sounds awful,” he scoffed; wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

The male before you merely rolled his eyes. “I don’t recall asking you anything.”

Sakura’s brows furrowed, and you felt his loose hold ok you tighten in an attempt to keep himself somewhat grounded. This guy was pissing both of you off, but more so Sakura due to the blatant ignorance your “friend” was displaying.

He shifted his gaze back from Sakura to you, and slightly tilted his head. “Clearly there’s some competition here.”

“A competition you already lost,” your boyfriend grumbled under his breath.

“So tell me, what’ll it take for you to give in?”

Your previously nonchalant expression morphed into one of annoyance. You might’ve known this guy from when you were younger, but he’s practically a stranger now after so many years. His sly smile struck a nerve, not to mention his attitude towards the boy that stood next to you. All of it ignited a strong flame within you, one that made you wanna-

“Ah- Shit! What the hell is wrong with you?!” your old acquaintance cried from the ground.

Sakura’s arms were tense at his sides, ready to throw another punch if needed. He stood in a fighting stance you were familiar with, but this time, it was for your sake.

“Take a hint, man. Don't you get it?” your boyfriend spoke, retreating back to your side with a sharp glare aimed at his current arch nemesis.

He interlocked his hand with yours, holding it with a firm grip. “They’re already taken, not to mention uninterested!” Sakura barked with displeasure. “And if you don’t want that face of yours to get fucked up even more, I suggest you scram.”

The other male whined from the ground, hastily scrambling away in fear whilst clutching his bloody nose. Of course, he spouted one last insult once he was far enough.

“You’re crazy! You Bofurin shits are all out of your minds!”

You and Sakura could only turn to one another and laugh in amusement.

Suo becomes flirtatious…

Suo’s a relatively calm man. He always kept a small smile on his face, rarely allowing it to fall no matter the situation.

Although right now it was slowly starting to falter.

He stood next to you, hands behind his back with a threatening gaze towards the other man before you. Seriously, neither of you expected that this guy would start flirting with you after helping him gather his belongings that just so happened to fall to the ground as you both walked by.

But he seemed to believe it was “fate.”

“Thank you so much!” the stranger said with glee. “I really oughta take you out to show my gratitude. Is there any place that’d you-“

“Nah, I’m good,” you interrupted, rejecting his advances before anything could escalate.

Suo felt a brief wave of relief wash over him at your words. You were very much capable of standing up for yourself, but he still kept his guard up incase anything were to happen. While you were very clear about turning this guy down, he wasn’t ready to give up.

“Are you sure? I’ll take you anywhere you want! All you gotta do is name a place!”

Suo’s eye twitched.

“I’m quite positive. I’m sure my boyfriend here can do all that for me and even more, so if you could kindly back off that would be wonderful.” you placed a hand on Suo’s shoulder with a grin, displaying affection to get your point across.

“This guy? Seriously?” the stranger grumbled in disbelief.

“Yep, that’s me,” Suo started. “Your offer is kind, but you should know when to back down, yeah?”

“I think she should be grateful I’m offering anything, and the nice thing to do would be to take that offer,” he taunted.

Suo chuckled at the boy’s insistence. “She doesn’t owe you anything.” he stayed sternly. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You felt flustered at the sudden pet name, not to mention the feeling of his arm slowly slipping around your waist teasingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you responded, accepting your boyfriend’s display of affection as you both emphasized your point.

His grip on your waist tightened, and he slowly leaned down to plant his forehead against yours. His eye was half-lidded, and you could feel his gaze on your lips. Just as he was about to lock his lips with yours, the other male let out a noise of disgust.

“Oh god okay- I get it!” he gagged. He stepped away, bags you helped him gather in hand as his face scrunched up. “You don’t need to start making out! That’s gross! You’re both gross!”

He rushed off, turning the corner to never be seen again. Suo pulled away from you, leaving his touch to linger around your face and waist. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, flustered, confused, and annoyed all at once.

“I didn’t think you had something like that in you~” you teased playfully.

His hand went to rub the back of his neck. “Neither did I… I don’t think I can do something like that again. I just needed to get him to back off.” he replied bashfully.

“But you did leave me hanging there. Am I gonna get that kiss or what?” you asked genuinely, tilting your head in curiosity.

Suo sighed, and guided the back of your hand to his lips to plant a kiss.

“You’ll get the one you’re waiting for when we get home, yeah?”

Togame is amused…

Usually, Togame would be ready to swing by now. However, he’s too enamored by your pretty face as you spew a number of insults at your middle school bully.

“After all you’ve put me through back then, do you really think I’d wanna sit and chat with you like nothing ever happened?” you shouted in the middle of the sidewalk, catching the attention of numerous passerbys.

“I’ve changed!” he shouted back, arms thrown up defensively. “Don’t you believe in change? Or do you think everyone stays the same their entire life?”

You rolled your eyes with bitterness. “Just forget it, we aren’t speaking ever again.”

“Now just wait a second-“

“Didn’t you hear them? They told you to forget it,” Togame stepped in front of you protectively.

“No, Togame. Let me handle him.”

“Oh? Well if you say so,” he replied, stepping aside for you. He knows you’re capable of holding your own, so he’s not too worried. Still, he kept his fists balled up at his sides incase he had to step in at any point.

The boy you’ve known since junior high scoffed at your actions. “We ain’t fighting, pretty.”

“You don’t get to call me that,” you fumed.

“Oh? Does that mean only your boyfriend here can compliment you?” he taunted, a smirk forming on his face.

Togame sat back and watched with a sly smile, admiring the way your face scrunched up in anger. He had no problem with others complimenting you. In all honesty, he liked it. It filled him with pride. Others could want you all they want, but only he could have you.

And he loved that.

You threw a hard punch at the male’s face, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground. Togame only whistled from behind you in praise.

You crouched down to the other’s level, grabbing him by the hair to keep eye contact. “I don’t wanna hear shit from someone like you, that’s all.”

After dropping his head, you stood up proudly.

“Sorry I didn’t let you handle it, Jo.” you apologized meekly.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.,” he brushed off whilst waving his hand. “Besides, that was pretty hot.”

You punched his shoulder lightly with a slight smile. “Of course that’s what you were thinking.”

He hummed. “If you ask me, anything you do is hot.”

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.