❅ 𝐳𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞!𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 ❅

Hi, can I request a yandere ranpo x reader obsessed with puzzles and (ranpo) the reader doesn't stop until the puzzle is finished? But the reader can sometimes be very stupid and absent-minded, for example, that a crossword puzzle or a sudoku is difficult for him and that cooking is difficult for them

Yandere!Ranpo x Reader

Ranpo stared at the board, blinking once. Then twice. His usual smug smirk faltered, the lollipop in his mouth tilting precariously.

"I lost?"

Across from him, you leaned back in your chair, fingers interlaced behind your head. "You did" you confirmed, tilting your head with a satisfied grin. "Fair and square."

The room, once filled with the quiet murmurs of spectators who had gathered to witness the so-called ‘Greatest Detective’ effortlessly crush yet another opponent, had now been reduced to stunned disbelief. It wasn’t just a puzzle contest—it was him against you. And he had lost.

Ranpo’s gaze flicked between the board and your expression, scanning for any sign of trickery, deception, an explanation for this anomaly. But all he saw was the calm confidence of someone who had outplayed him.

The moment you stood up, stretching as if this was just another casual game for you, Ranpo made a decision.

He had to know.

And so, he followed you.

At first, it was subtle—watching from a distance as you went about your day, noting every little habit. The way you absentmindedly traced patterns with your fingers while reading, how your eyes scanned rooms as if cataloging every detail.

By the third day, he was practically glued to your side.

"You're fascinating, y'know that?" he hummed, walking backwards in front of you, hands tucked behind his head. "I've solved cases in minutes, unraveled conspiracies, read people like open books—but you? Hah, you’re like a puzzle I haven’t finished yet."

You raised a brow, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he beamed. "Hey! Come hang out at the Agency with me! We have tons of puzzles there."

You narrowed your eyes. "You just want to figure me out."

"You are a mystery worth solving, after all."

And Ranpo hated unsolved mysteries.

Walking into the Armed Detective Agency felt like stepping into a room full of people who had just seen a ghost.

"…Ranpo, who’s that?" Atsushi asked hesitantly, blinking between you and Ranpo, who had a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

"My new favorite person" Ranpo announced proudly, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "They’re really good at puzzles."

"You brought them here… just because they’re good at puzzles?" Kunikida adjusted his glasses, already rubbing his temple as if anticipating a migraine.

"Hey! I bring valuable people to the agency all the time" Ranpo pouted. "Besides, they beat me in a contest. Me. That’s gotta mean something, right?"

Dazai let out a low whistle, resting his chin in his palm. "You lost? Now that’s a rare sight."

You rolled your eyes at the attention but smirked at Ranpo. "Told you it wasn’t a fluke."

"You still have to prove it wasn’t luck" Ranpo teased back.

Before the banter could continue, the atmosphere shifted with the sharp ring of the agency phone. Kunikida answered, his expression growing serious.

"A murder case" he said after a moment, glancing around. "And it’s… strange. The police can’t make sense of the crime scene."

Ranpo’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

You could feel the moment he made the decision before he even said it.

"Y/N's coming with me" Ranpo announced, pointing at you.

"Wait, what?"

"You're already here. And you love puzzles. It’ll be fun!"

"That’s not—!"

Too late. He was already dragging you toward the exit, his grip surprisingly firm.

"Ranpo!" Kunikida shouted.

"Don’t worry, we’ll solve it in no time~!" Ranpo sang, waving over his shoulder.

And just like that, you were thrown into a murder investigation.

The crime scene was bizarre.

A locked-room murder, but instead of the usual grim chaos, the place was meticulously arranged. The body lay in the center of the room, surrounded by neatly placed puzzle pieces. Scraps of paper with half-finished riddles were scattered across the table. The walls were adorned with cryptic messages, some in different languages, some in numbers.

Ranpo let out a low whistle, crouching near one of the riddles. "Whoever did this really went all out. Trying to turn a crime scene into a game?" He glanced at you, a slow smirk forming. "Sounds like your kind of thing."

This wasn’t just some puzzle game—it was a murder. But you couldn’t deny it: the challenge intrigued you.

"This is gonna be fun."

And for the first time since stepping into this case, you couldn’t help but agree.

The room felt suffocating.

Even with the windows open, a chill clung to the air, heavy with something wrong. The crime scene had long since been cleared of the body, but the echoes of violence remained. Blood had soaked into the wooden floorboards, forming patterns.

You and Ranpo sat in the center of the room, surrounded by dozens of puzzle pieces.

Each piece was a fragment of a Polaroid, stained at the edges, some speckled with blood. A single letter was scrawled on the back of each in spidery handwriting. The police had given up, calling it ‘incomprehensible.’ You and Ranpo? You lived for this.

Your hands trembled slightly as you connected another corner. A distorted image was beginning to take shape.

A face.

Or at least, what used to be a face.

The photograph showed the victim’s head—stitched together, their mouth twisted into an unnatural grin, eyes removed and replaced with buttons.

"This is sick."

Ranpo, sitting cross-legged beside you, popped a lollipop into his mouth, eyes fixed on the puzzle with unsettling fascination. "It's art," he mused. "A very, very deranged kind, but art nonetheless."

"That’s not funny."

"But it’s true," he said simply. Then he tapped at the letters forming a rough circle around the grotesque image. "Now, what do you make of these?"

You hesitated, scanning the pieces. Your mind worked instinctively, arranging and rearranging in your head.

"It’s an anagram"

Ranpo leaned in as you rearranged the letters in your head, mouth moving silently before you whispered the answer.

"Find the next piece."

Ranpo grinned. "Oh-ho~ This just got way more interesting."

By the time the case was wrapped up, you were exhausted.

Days of unraveling cryptic messages, following trails that led to dead ends, and confronting the kind of darkness most people spent their lives avoiding had taken its toll.

You barely managed to stumble into your apartment before collapsing onto your bed, not even bothering to change. Sleep pulled at you instantly, mind clouded with half-formed riddles and the echo of Ranpo’s voice teasing in your ears.

The Armed Detective Agency was unusually quiet the next morning.

"Has anyone seen Ranpo?" Kunikida asked, flipping through his notebook with an exasperated sigh.

Atsushi frowned. "He wasn’t here when I came in…"

Dazai, leaning back in his chair, grinned lazily. "Maybe he found something more interesting to do."

Fukuzawa, usually calm, let out a small sigh. "Knowing him, he’s up to something."

And they were right. Because while the ADA was wondering where their detective had gone, Ranpo was already at your front door.

With a bag of snacks in one hand and a smirk in place, he knocked.

"Oi~ Open up! I know you’re in there."

You groaned, shoving a pillow over your face.

He knocked again. "C’mon, don’t make me deduce my way inside."

You threw the pillow aside with a sigh.

Ranpo just grinned wider as you cracked the door open, eyes still groggy with sleep.

"Morning, bestie~!"

You stared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He held up a bag of your favorite snacks. "Bribing my way into your apartment. I figured since we bonded over that lovely murder, we should hang out more!"

You groaned, rubbing your temples.

And yet… as much as you hated to admit it, the idea of pushing him away didn’t even cross your mind.

Ranpo had made himself far too comfortable in your apartment. Feet propped up on your coffee table, his bag of snacks nearly empty, he was lazily tossing random questions your way—questions that, in your half-asleep state, you barely registered.

"What do you think is the best way to disappear without a trace?"

"Mmh."

"Do you think Dazai would look better in a detective hat or a clown wig?"

"Sure."

"Okay, but if you had to choose between getting locked in a room with a serial killer or letting me eat the last of your snacks, which would you pick?"

"Whatever."

Ranpo pouted. "Rude."

You barely reacted, eyes fluttering shut as you curled deeper into the couch. He clicked his tongue, scanning your bookshelf before suddenly perking up.

"Oh? What’s this?"

You cracked one eye open just in time to see him holding up a small, intricately designed puzzle box.

Your drowsiness evaporated instantly.

"Wait, where did you get that?"

Ranpo grinned, spinning it in his hands. "It was just sitting there, waiting for me~ You like these, huh?"

You barely heard him, already snatching it from his grasp. Your fingers traced the carvings along the edges, the weight of it familiar.

This was a real puzzle. A mechanical challenge, gears hidden beneath the surface, secrets locked inside.

You were hooked immediately.

Ranpo watched, scowling as you became utterly absorbed, twisting and turning the pieces, eyes gleaming with focus.

"Oi."

No response.

He poked your cheek. "Hellooo?"

Still nothing.

"You’re ignoring me," he muttered, arms crossing. "I brought that for you and now you won’t even look at me?"

You mumbled something incomprehensible, fingers still working at the puzzle’s hidden mechanisms.

Ranpo sulked. He had specifically come here to spend time with you. You. Not some dumb wooden contraption!

He was starting to hate that box.

And yet, as evening crept in, you still hadn’t solved it.

Ranpo’s mood lightened when you finally sighed and set it aside, stretching with a groan.

"Okay," you mumbled. "I need a break. I’ll cook something."

Ranpo blinked. "You can cook?"

"...I can try."

What followed could only be described as culinary carnage.

Ranpo watched in horrified fascination as you fumbled with the ingredients, nearly set something on fire (twice), and somehow managed to make instant noodles taste like regret.

"You’re a genius at puzzles but this is beyond you?" he snickered, dodging the halfhearted attempt you made to smack his arm.

"Shut up, I don’t do this often!"

"Clearly."

Just as he was about to tease you further, his phone buzzed.

Ranpo sighed dramatically before answering.

"Ah, what is it this time?"

"Ranpo, we have a problem."

A gleam of excitement flickered in his eyes.

"Perfect timing. I was getting bored."

Before you could even process what was happening, Ranpo had already grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward the door.

"Wait—what about food?!"

He waved off your concerns. "Who cares? Side quest time~!"

"I care!"

But it was too late.

With an empty stomach and a very bad feeling, you found yourself dragged into yet another mystery.

You had been expecting something serious.

A murder. A kidnapping. Some complex conspiracy that only Ranpo could unravel.

What you hadn’t expected… was a missing cat.

"You dragged me out for this?" you panted, hands on your knees.

The old woman who had called for help wrung her hands nervously. "I-I'm sorry for the trouble, but my dear Momo has never run off before! She’s a precious girl, so well-behaved, I just—"

Ranpo cut her off with a lazy wave. "Yeah, yeah, no worries, ma’am. We’ll find your little furball."

You shot him a glare. "We?"

He grinned. "Obviously. You’re part of the team now!"

You groaned.

The search turned out to be far more exhausting than expected.

Momo was no ordinary house cat—she was an absolute menace.

She had led you both through alleyways, rooftops, and somehow, at one point, an underground bar (don’t ask). You had climbed over fences, gotten chased by an angry shopkeeper after Ranpo ‘borrowed’ some fish, and nearly faceplanted into a pile of garbage when Momo darted out of reach.

By the time you finally caught the tiny devil and returned her home, you were done.

"Never again" you wheezed, leaning against a lamppost, trying not to collapse.

Ranpo, perfectly fine, patted your head like you were some exhausted puppy. "Good job, partner~"

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

"…Give me five minutes, and I might."

He only laughed.

The night air was cool as you sat at a small food stall, finally finally getting something to eat.

You slumped over the counter, barely able to hold your chopsticks.

Ranpo, as lively as ever, happily slurped his noodles. "Y’know, for someone so good at puzzles, your stamina sucks."

You sent him a half-hearted glare. "Not all of us are built for running an obstacle course for a cat."

"Excuses, excuses."

Despite his teasing, he nudged an extra skewer toward you.

You took it with a grumble, too hungry to argue.

That was when you felt it.

A prickle at the back of your neck.

Subtle, but unmistakable.

Someone was watching you.

Your fingers tightened slightly around your chopsticks.

You scanned the street casually—nothing seemed out of place. Just pedestrians, workers, and the occasional couple enjoying the evening air.

You barely turned your head, but Ranpo noticed.

He took a casual sip of his drink before murmuring, "Don't react. Just act natural."

"So I am being watched" you muttered under your breath.

"Oh, absolutely," he whispered. "And whoever they are… they’re not just a random stalker."

Your grip on the skewer tightened.

"Guess this means the real game is starting~"

The next morning, the eerie sensation of being watched was gone.

Just the usual bustle of the city, people moving about their lives as if nothing had happened.

But something still felt off.

Maybe it was the fact that Ranpo was being even more insufferable than usual.

"You're walking too far ahead" he complained, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling you back beside him.

"Since when do you care about walking distance?"

He huffed, swinging your arm slightly as he held onto it. "Since you started getting distracted by other things when I'm right here."

You scoffed, shaking him off. "You're acting clingy."

Ranpo gasped dramatically. "Me?"

"Yes. You."

He pouted "Well, maybe someone should appreciate how much I care."

The agency had already noticed his shift in behavior.

Ranpo was always eccentric, but today?

If anyone so much as greeted you, he would cut in.

Atsushi had tried to ask about the case from yesterday? Ranpo answered for you before you could get a word in.

Dazai had made a casual joke about inviting you out for lunch?

Ranpo laughed, but the way he stepped in front of you was anything but playful.

Even Yosano, who usually didn’t care for Ranpo’s antics, raised an eyebrow when he quite literally dragged you away from Kunikida’s work desk before the man could assign you anything.

"Ranpo, I can talk to other people, you know."

"Nope."

"…Nope?"

"You’re mine today."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me~"

You stared at him, waiting for some kind of follow-up. Maybe a joke, maybe a smug ‘just kidding.’

But no.

He just continued on, casually snacking on some sweets, as if what he said was perfectly normal.

----

The morning felt... strangely peaceful.

No Ranpo clinging to your side. No smug remarks. No insistent dragging to whatever nonsense he decided was your business too.

For the first time in days, you could actually breathe.

Maybe he got busy.

Maybe he finally got bored of shadowing your every move.

You weren’t sure if that idea was relieving or unnerving.

Either way, you decided to take advantage of the rare moment of freedom—grabbing coffee alone, wandering through the city without someone constantly pulling at your sleeve, and even stopping by a bookstore to browse puzzles at your own pace.

But that peaceful feeling shattered the second you got home.

The door was slightly ajar.

You knew you had locked it before leaving.

Slowly, cautiously, you pushed it open.

Your apartment was exactly how you left it. No overturned furniture, no broken windows, nothing missing.

You stepped inside, heart pounding as you scanned every inch of your space.

Drawers had been opened.

Books had been shifted.

Your desk, usually neat, had its contents disturbed—papers moved just slightly out of place.

Whoever had been here wasn’t after valuables. They weren’t looking for money.

The police arrived quickly, investigating the break-in with their usual procedure—dusting for fingerprints, asking if you noticed anything strange.

"Nothing was stolen?" One of the officers asked, flipping through his notes.

You shook your head. "Not that I can tell."

"That’s... unusual," he admitted. "Break-ins like this typically have a motive."

"So, what? This was just to send a message?"

The officer exchanged glances with his partner.

"We can’t say for sure, but… be careful. If anything else happens, let us know immediately."

As they left, the unease in your chest didn’t fade.

You tried not to dwell on the break-in.

Nothing was stolen. Nothing was damaged.

The police had done their part, and aside from the unsettling feeling that someone had been there, there was nothing else you could do.

So, life went on.

Eventually, you decided a fresh start would be best.

A new apartment. A quieter part of town.

For a while, things were… peaceful.

You didn’t avoid Ranpo, exactly. But he had stopped appearing in your daily life like an ever-present shadow.

Maybe he finally lost interest.

Maybe he had other mysteries to chase after.

It was better this way.

Until the night everything changed.

A frantic knock shattered the silence.

You glanced at the clock—past midnight.

No one visited you this late.

Approaching the door cautiously, you hesitated before unlocking it.

The second you cracked it open, Ranpo shoved his way inside, slamming it shut behind him.

"Lock it!" he ordered, breathless.

You startled but obeyed, twisting the bolt shut.

"Ranpo, what the hell—?"

His usual smug, lazy demeanor was gone. His clothes were slightly disheveled, his hair messier than usual, and his chest rose and fell rapidly as if he had been running. His eyes darted around your apartment before finally landing on you.

"You need to leave. Now."

"What? Why?"

Ranpo grabbed your wrist, "We need to go."

You had never seen him like this.

"Ranpo." You yanked your wrist free, stepping back. "Tell me what's going on."

He exhaled sharply, frustrated. "There's no time!"

"Then make time!"

For a split second, his eyes locked onto yours, then just as quickly, he was moving again—grabbing a chair, pushing it up against the door.

"Someone is after us," he muttered, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "I don’t know how they found you so fast, but—"

knock

Both of you froze.

Three soft raps against the wood.

Ranpo inhaled sharply through his nose, and for the first time since he’d arrived, you saw it.

Fear.

You didn’t want to look at the door.

Didn’t want to move.

But your body betrayed you.

Step by step, you approached it, barely able to hear over the pounding in your ears.

Then—

A piece of paper slid under the door.

A single, neatly folded note.

The knock had stopped.

You hesitated, then crouched down, hand trembling slightly as you picked it up.

Unfolding it carefully, you read the single line scrawled across the page:

"You solved my last puzzle. Now solve this one."

Ranpo was beside you in an instant, snatching the paper from your hands.

His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes scanning the message with a look you had never seen before.

"I should’ve known they'd come for you next."

"Who?"

He crumpled the note in his fist.

"Someone who doesn't play fair."

Another knock.

This time, harder.

Ranpo grabbed your wrist again, yanking you toward the back door.

"No more questions. We're leaving. Now."

And this time, you didn’t argue.

Ranpo practically dragged you out the back door, the cold night air bit at your skin as you stumbled onto the empty street, your mind racing.

Whoever had left that note—whoever had been knocking—was still inside your apartment.

“Where are we going?” you demanded, struggling to keep up.

“Somewhere safe,” he muttered, barely sparing you a glance.

The city blurred past as he led you down alleyways, side streets, weaving through the darkness like he had planned this route a thousand times before.

“Ranpo, slow down—”

“Can’t.”

“Damn it!” You yanked your arm free, chest heaving. “What the hell is going on? What was that note? Who’s after us?”

He turned on you fast. His eyes gleamed in the dim streetlights, something unreadable swirling in them.

“Why do you keep asking questions you don’t want the answers to?”

Hours Later.

The safe house was an old building on the outskirts of the city, abandoned and isolated.

Ranpo had led you inside, locking the doors, checking the windows, making sure no one had followed.

And now, you sat in the dimly lit room, your pulse finally slowing, trying to piece it all together.

Everything that had happened.

The break-in.

The missing stalker.

The note.

Your entire life had been upended in a matter of days.

A creeping unease slithered into your thoughts.

“Ranpo. You never answered me.”

“About what?”

“Why were you running?”

The pieces were coming together, whether you wanted them to or not.

“You knew exactly where to go”

Ranpo didn’t reply.

“And that note—” Your fingers clenched into your sleeves.

“Ah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “And here I thought I’d get to play just a little longer.”

“Ranpo,” you said, “What did you do?”

He sighed, stepping forward, completely relaxed, as if this was just another game to him.

“Did you really think some random stalker was after you?” he mused. “That some unknown threat was breaking into your home, following your every move?”

“You never even questioned why I was always one step ahead.” he continued.

“It was you.” Your voice was barely audible. “It was always you.”

“Of course it was.”

“Why?” The question escaped before you could stop it.

“You wouldn’t stay,” he murmured, “You kept slipping away. Distracted by other things. Other people.”

He took another step forward, and this time, you had nowhere to go.

“But I knew how to keep your attention,” he said softly, tilting his head. “You love puzzles, don’t you?”

The words felt like ice in your veins.

“I gave you one.”

Your breath hitched.

“I was your puzzle.”

“And now? You’re finally paying attention to me.”

The game wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

You felt sick.

Ranpo’s words echoed in your mind, rattling inside your skull like a cruel joke.

"If you want to leave, then alright—"

"But you must solve one last puzzle."

Then he had left.

And now, you were alone.

The room was empty, save for a single wooden desk shoved against the farthest wall.

Your first instinct was to check there.

Nothing. No notes, no hidden drawers, no conveniently placed riddles waiting to be solved.

You scoured the rest of the space, searching for something. A pattern. A clue. Anything.

But there was nothing.

For the first time in your life, a puzzle had no pieces.

Frustration burned beneath your skin.

Ranpo had never left you without a lead before.

Not even when you were competing against him, not even when he wanted to win.

So why now?

Ranpo had turned himself into a puzzle, left himself as the only answer, and now he was making you do the work.

Making you chase him.

One thing was clear: the answer would lead you to the next location.

Your eyes scanned over the place to find some blood-red markings and that’s when you saw it.

Beneath the cryptic symbols, hidden in the mess of strokes, was something else.

A drawing.

A bridge.

But not just any bridge—you recognized this one.

The bridge loomed over you, empty and silent under the dim glow of streetlights.

The wind howled through the metal beams, a lonely, ghostly sound.

A figure stood at the center of the bridge, just barely visible under the flickering light.

"That took you longer than expected"

"Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"Another game, obviously."

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled something from behind him.

A puzzle box. Dark wood, intricate carvings.

It looked simple at first—just a standard mechanical puzzle with moving pieces.

"You solve this, you win" he said, stepping closer, holding it out to you. "And if I do?"

"Then this ends."

"Exactly."

You snatched the puzzle box from his hands, ignoring the way he watched you, amused, expectant.

This would be easy.

Or so you thought.

Because the moment your fingers moved the first piece—

It locked.

You frowned.

Ranpo grinned.

"Aww, did I forget to mention?"

"I rigged it."

"You what—"

"Oops." His expression was nothing but smug satisfaction. "Looks like you can’t win after all."

Your grip on the puzzle box tightened, anger bubbling beneath your skin.

"You—"

Before you could finish, Ranpo took a step back, slipping just out of reach.

"You’re sooooooo close" he teased, voice almost sing-song. "But I guess you’ll just have to stay with me a little longer to figure it out."

This wasn’t about solving a puzzle.

This was about trapping you in his game.

And he was never going to let you win.

Your fingers dug into the puzzle box, nails pressing so hard against the wood that they nearly left marks.

You loved puzzles. They were pure—logic and reason wrapped into a perfect solution. A challenge, but always one with an answer.

But this?

This was an insult.

Ranpo had rigged it. Not as a test, not as a real challenge, but as a way to trap you.

You felt the anger rise in your chest like a firestorm.

"You’re mocking it" you hissed, gripping the box so tightly your knuckles turned white. "This isn’t a puzzle—it’s a joke."

"Don’t be mad," he cooed, tilting his head. "I think it’s fun."

"You ruined it."

"You’re adorable when you’re angry" he mused, taking a lazy step forward.

You instinctively stepped back.

Wrong move.

Ranpo’s eyes lit up.

"Oh?" His smirk widened. "Are you scared of me now?"

You weren’t.

His amusement took on a new edge.

"I thought you liked puzzles" he murmured, voice dropping just slightly. "And yet, here you are, acting like you don’t want to play anymore."

Your jaw clenched. "Because this isn’t one."

He hummed, taking another step forward.

You forced yourself to stay still.

"Isn’t it? Then why are you still holding on to it?"

He was right.

Your grip on the box was tight, unwilling to let it go—even though you knew it was a trick.

"See? You’re still playing my game."

His fingers brushed yours.

"Why fight it?" he murmured, leaning in just a bit more. "You love this. You love me."

Your head felt fuzzy.

Your grip on the puzzle box loosened—just slightly.

Ranpo was always on your mind.

Just like a puzzle—taunting, unsolved, endless.

At first, you thought you could figure him out.

You wanted to.

He was a challenge unlike any other.

He was never just one thing.

One moment, he was playful. The next, eerily perceptive. One moment, he was leading you along like a game piece. The next, pulling you in like he had been waiting for you all along.

And it was exhausting.

You exhaled, shoulders slumping. "I don’t get you, Ranpo."

Your fingers tightened around the rigged puzzle box. "The more I try to understand you, the less I actually do."

For once, he was silent.

Then—

He laughed.

It unsettled you more than anything.

"You finally get it," he mused, tilting his head. "That’s why you can’t leave me alone."

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"You love puzzles, then what’s better than one you’ll never solve?"

"I know. It’s frustrating. Confusing. But isn’t that what makes it fun?"

You barely realized it when your grip on the puzzle box finally loosened.

"You’re obsessed with me," he said simply. "And that’s okay."

And the moment you did—

Ranpo caught it.

And you.

"You’re tired" he said "Then don’t think anymore."

fuck my annoying ass dog

in which: megyn cuddle + annoying kuro

pairing: megumi x f!reader

masterlist

megumi was tired.

a long day of exercising curses, all he wanted in this moment was to collapse into bed and pull yn into his arms. no barking or whining, just wuiet.

but apparently that was too much to ask for.

because the moment he wrapped his arm around yns waist, the divine dog growled.

not a soft whine like when megumi didnt bring back treats, a warning growl.

megumis fingers barely touched yns hip again before the growl got louder. his brain took a second to process it before his face turned into a scowl.

he glanced down at the divine dog, who was currently trying to wedge itself between him and yn. its head pressed against yns stomach.

yn, meanwhile,. was sleeply giggling, her face buried against megumis chest.

megumi sighed. “did you just growl at me, kuro?”

the dog did not blink or waver.

it stood its ground, its eyes sharp like megumi was an intruder in his own dorm.

yn lifted her head slightly, peekijg up at him. “theyre just protective, megs.”

protective, against megumi. yns boyfriend. their summoner.

megumis eyes narrowed. “shes literally my girlfriend”

the dog did not care. if anything, it pushed itself closer to yn, pressing its entire weight into them as if shielding her from megumi.

“you cant be serious.”

yn reached down and scratched behind its ear. “its cute.”

“no, its not.”

it was annoying, he could barely touch his own girlfriend without his own technique getting in the way.

megumi stared down the dog with the most unimpressed look imaginable. which was reflected on the dog. “i summon you, you exist because of me. you should be on my side.”

the dog blinked. then had the audacity to turn its head away.

because megumi wasnt worth looking at.

megumi exhaled sharply. “fine”

yn, still giggling, tilted her head. “are you pouting, megs?”

“no.”

megumi absolutely was pouting.

and it only got worse when kuro curled against yns stomach, blocking megumi from touching her.

yn ran her fingers through kuros fur. “guess you have to work for their trust, too.”

“i dont need their trust, i need my girlfriend back.”

kuro didnt move.

megumi sighed heavily, sinking deeper into the mattress. he should have desummoned the shikigami already, but he was too tired. instead he settled for grumbling under his breath.

reader reached out, gently running her fingers through megumis hair, scratching at the scalp. the tension in his shoulders giving away.

megumis eyelids drooped, huffing out a breath. “this is so unfair.”

“youre cute when your grumpy, megs”

megumi grumbled something unintelligible before wrapping an arm around her back—and the dog growled again.

“oh my fucking gosh.”

Boyfriends

Literally me

Pspspspspsps

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏… 🎀

♡ private college au - katsuki bakugou x reader

‿‿ 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒕: an mini series written by me, @bkgsdoll , coming soon ( ˵ᵔ ³ ᵔ˵ )♡

Nerd gojo x nerd reader! Headcanons

Nerd!Gojo x Nerd!You Headcanons

Part 2 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ Gojo Satoru, the prodigy. The guy who solves complex math problems in his head like it’s a simple 2+2. If someone ask him how, he’ll just smirk and say, “Just run your mind faster.” As if that makes sense.

♡ Gojo, the last-minute genius. He does his assignments at the last possible second but still gets a perfect score. People have accused him of using black magic. He doesn’t deny it.

♡ Gojo, the overanalyzer. Someone calls him a know it all as a joke, and next thing they know, they’re stuck listening to a 30-minute breakdown of why intelligence is subjective and how human perception affects knowledge.

♡ Gojo, the human stopwatch. He calculates the exact time people take to do the most random things:

Shoko takes exactly 3.2 seconds to process a joke before laughing.

Suguru sniffs his food for 2.6 seconds before deciding if it’s poisoned.

His teacher blinks an average of 18 times per minute when lecturing.

♡ Gojo, the walking encyclopedia. He acts like he knows everything psychology, physics, chemistry, math. Whether he actually does or not is debatable, but he’ll never admit he’s wrong.

♡ Gojo, the fact machine. He drops random trivia constantly, just to flex. “Did you know honey never spoils?” “Gojo, no one cares.”

♡ Gojo, the exam escape artist. He drags Suguru out to do something totally unproductive before exams, but somehow still tops the class while Suguru barely passes. Suguru has stopped questioning it.

♡ Gojo, the romance skeptic. Laughs in the face of love at first sight, listing the exact probability of it happening.

♡ Gojo, the worst date ever. He once explained The Art of War on a date. The girl left before dessert. He still doesn’t know why.

♡ Gojo, the secret romance reader. He totally didn’t get caught reading a romance novel in the library. And he totally didn’t like it.

Then, there’s you.

♡ You, the transfer student. No expression. No reaction. The class went dead silent when you walked in, as if even breathing would be too loud. The teacher praised you, and you just nodded like it didn’t matter.

♡ You, Gojo’s accidental rival. Sitting next to him was a nightmare. He asked the most stupid questions, and you ignored all of them. He assumed you were just an edgy wannabe. That made him laugh.

♡ You, the real threat. When exam results came out, Gojo was shook. For the first time, he wasn’t the top scorer. You were. And your reaction? A shrug. No smile, no satisfaction. That’s when you became interesting.

♡ Gojo, the forced study partner. He forced the teacher to make you his partner. You weren’t amused.

“Why do I need to do practicals if I already know the answer?” you questioned

“To see if it’s true or not, dummy.” He grinned, waiting for your response.

“If it’s in the book, it’s already true.” He had never wanted to strangle someone and marry them at the same time before.

♡ Gojo, the doomed fool. No one ever entertained his nerdy ramblings, but you? You matched his energy. When you started debating him on his own topics, he knew he was done for.

♡ Gojo, the AI skeptic. He swears you talk like a robot.

“That’s not an effective method.”

“This is scientifically incorrect.”

“Are you a government experiment?”

♡ Gojo, the challenge seeker. He constantly challenged you to competitions. You refused every time. “Not interested in unnecessary drama.” That hurt his soul.

♡ Gojo, the frustrated observer. He needed to see a crack in your facade. Anything. He studied your every move, trying to prove you weren’t an AI.

♡ Gojo, the mimic. He caught you muttering the pi table to regain focus. He immediately adopted the technique.

♡ Gojo, the sore winner. If he scored higher than you, he wasn’t happy he was annoyed. What’s the point if you don’t even care?

♡ Gojo, the reluctant believer. He told you about his hobbies with way too much excitement. You told him about yours, but your blank expression made him question if you were lying.

♡ Gojo, the paranoid calculator. He tried analyzing your movements, but everything about you was too precise. It freaked him out.

♡ Gojo, the not-so-subtle spy. Since you lived next to Suguru, he used that as an excuse to observe you. Every time he saw you, you were either studying or staring out the window like a lifeless statue. You caught him multiple times. Instead of yelling, you just stared at him. It was terrifying.

♡ Gojo, the insecure nerd. He nervously brought up Dungeons & Dragons, expecting you to be clueless. Instead, you knew everything. He had never felt average before.

♡ Gojo, the desk menace. He constantly poked you during class, hoping for any reaction. You just stared at him, unblinking, until he became flustered and left.

♡ Gojo, the insane conversationalist. He told you the wildest theories, and you listened like it was just another casual conversation. It drove him insane.

It took me 4 days to think of a gojo nerd scenerio 😭

And you GUYS HAVE TO REQUEST DO IT

Part 2 will be here

@naomigojo

Can you do girl dad katsuki

Girl dad - w/katsuki

Girl dad katsuki who nearly pees his pants when he finds out you're having a girl. He's a loud, aggressive, short tempered man with little patience, how was he going to deal with a daughter??

When she's first born and friends and family come over to visit her he makes sure that everyone washes and sanitizes thoroughly. He lets everyone know not to kiss her, especially on her face, and if his daughter gets sick he'll "blow their asses up.” or something along those lines.

At night when she cries he tells you to stay In bed and he'll handle it. at first he hated changing diapers, but he's gotten used to it… kinda. “There’s no way you should smell like this.. the hell is yer mom feeding you..” if a diaper change and a bottle don’t calm her screams he’ll hold her and sway around the room while humming or singing a tune to her. If he has to he’ll hold her all night while sleeping in the rocking chair so she can get a good nights sleep, even if it means his back will be in pain all morning.

He’s a big softie when it comes to her milestones. Her first words, first steps, the first time she tries solid foods, when she learns to clap, high-five and crawl. it all makes him feel really proud but also sad in a way. Her milestones are signs that she’s growing up and that’s something he wants to hold off for as long as possible.

He carries her around when and wherever she wants. “Daddy up!” she says while the three of you are out for a walk. He’ll smile down at her then put her on his shoulders and make airplane sounds. She's a Velcro baby, when he's doing his push ups she'll be on his back giggling, when he's cooking she's on his shoulders moving his hair like Remi (ratatouille) When he’s eating dinner she’ll be sitting in his lap waiting for him to share another bite of his food with her.

He loves creating little fireworks in the palm of his hand with his quirk for her because it makes her laugh really hard, and it's one of his favorite sounds in the whole world. He loves it when you buy her little versions of his merch. His favorite being the one that says “My daddy and hero all in #1” (I canon katsuki being #1) and there's a picture of him on the little onesies back.

He thought it would be hard being a "girl dad" but it's actually one of his favorite things In the world. He wears his title like a crown and wouldn't change it for anything. (He still wants a son tho)

Hi friends! This was really hard for me to write for some reason.... But i hope you enjoyed!

Soo sorry to anon who requested for taking so long on this...

But i hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!

Requests are night encouraged and appreciated!

xo-winter 🪼🤍

No Strings Attached

Chapter 2

Nerdjo x Fem Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI

A/N: Art in banner is by the lovely @/84midnightsun on Twitter

CW: Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Chapter Index

The university’s library was cold per usual — not just the physical atmosphere, but cold in its appearance as well. The unforgiving fluorescent lights looked more like they belonged in a supermarket aisle than a place of study. They ricocheted off the white, marble floor and were nearly blinding. Built-in shelves graced the colorless walls, housing tens of thousands of books.

Despite the lack of warmth and coziness one would hope to find in a library, Satoru somehow still managed to brighten up the room with his presence alone. He sat directly opposite you — his cheek propped up on his left hand while his right furiously scribbled into various notebooks. A long-sleeved black sweater draped loosely across his shoulders with the edges of his collarbones exposed. Tousled strands the color of snow fell across his forehead in multiple directions, stopping just shy of his glasses. His azure eyes never once left the work in front of him.

Somehow, even with his attention fully devoted to the physics textbook in front of him, he still managed to shine. He never even had to try, because everywhere Satoru Gojo went, he always managed to be a source of light. Perhaps that was just one of the many reasons you had fallen in love with him to begin with.

In a way, it was almost like he was the sun. His brightness was always the focal point as he illuminated everything in his path. He was funny and kind — the type of person who would do anything for a friend in need. Whether it be pulling an all-nighter to help someone study or moving a piece of furniture, he was always the first to volunteer. He was a self-assured and confident man, especially when it came to academics. Everyone, including him, knew he was a genius, and that was one thing he was not humble about. And on top of everything else, he was truly the most beautiful person you had ever met.

Yes, Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you had been trapped in his orbit for as long as you could remember.

He was completely oblivious to you staring at him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was well known that once he started studying, it was damn near impossible to tear him away until he was finished. He had always been that way.

Your gaze traced over him, and you meticulously studied every single detail as if this was the first and last time you would ever see him. From the gentle contours of his cheekbones to the sharp edges of his defined jaw, everything about him was perfect. But it was when your eyes reached his supple lips that memories from the night you two had shared just a week prior came rushing in. The trance you found yourself in was immediately shattered by a harsh ache in your heart.

Immediately following your tryst, the two of you went separate ways for the evening. The next morning, and every day since, not a single word was uttered about what had occurred. Satoru acted as if nothing transpired. You expected as much — he did tell you that it was no strings attached. Regardless, it still burned all the same.

“Satoru,” you whispered in an attempt to gently grab his attention.

He offered no response as he continued penning down his notes. You leaned forward a bit and glanced over what he was writing. Complex equations sprawled across almost two full pages in their entirety. His eyes constantly jumped between the textbook and his notebook, his hand never stopping to take a break as he jotted it all down.

He reached with his left hand to quickly flip over onto the next page. You shot your hand out and were just barely able to catch him before he continued on in his physics-fueled trance. Satoru glanced up at you, his eyes finally meeting with yours. He reached his right hand up, pen in tow, and used his index finger to push his glasses up as they began inching down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied with a lazy grin. “Did you say something?”

You forced a small smile to match his. “I just wanted to let you know that I think I’m going to head home. I don’t have any more classes today.”

“Okay, sure.” The corners of his mouth turned further upward as his grin grew into a smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

You nodded your head in response and began gathering the books sprawled out on the surface in front of you that you hadn’t even touched since your arrival. The wooden chair squealed as it scraped against the tile below. Rising to your feet, you tucked away everything into your backpack and pulled out your phone to check your messages. Just a couple of texts from Suguru and Shoko in the group chat inviting you to game night at their apartment tonight.

You turned towards the door, phone still in hand as you began to type out a reply, when suddenly your body collided with something. Immediately looking up, your eyes were met with a widened pair staring right back at you.

A blonde girl, about the same height as you, carrying a stack of books immediately backed up, one of her hands now raised. You didn’t recognize her, which was strange. Your university was decent-sized, but still, you were familiar with the majority of the students. She must be new.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Her hushed whispers were urgent and carried a sincere, apologetic tone.

“I’m fine,” you offered with a smile. “I should be the one apologizing. It was my fault.”

“Naori!” You heard Satoru’s voice call from behind you. You turned your head around to see him excitedly pointing to your now empty seat.

They knew each other? He had never spoken about her before, and you two told each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

“I’m so sorry again,” Naori said as her hand brushed against your shoulder, pulling your attention back towards her.

You just offered a gentle smile in return and kept walking past her towards the exit. Before exiting, you glanced over your shoulder one final time at your friend, and your face immediately fell at the sight in front of you.

Neither one of them was studying but instead appeared to be deep into a conversation. Both his notebook and textbook had been closed as he began packing them away in his bag. You saw his hand begin to reach across the table and decided it was enough as you turned your gaze back ahead of you.

Pushing on the door, you exited the library and carefully climbed down the concrete steps. The dull ache in your chest was now replaced by a burning sensation as you felt a nasty emotion take root in you. You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts trying to course through your mind. There was no point in jumping to conclusions about what you just saw, and even though you knew what you were feeling, you refused to give a name to it. Satoru was never yours to begin with.

——————

A gurgling sound could be heard as you felt your stomach twisting itself into knots. You were famished to the point it made it difficult to concentrate on the presentation you were attempting to put together for Professor Yaga’s class.

Immediately after you arrived home, you holed yourself up in your room to get some work done. It ensured there would be no distractions, but more importantly, it ensured that you could avoid Satoru. He came home just two hours after you, and since his arrival, you’ve refused to go out into the common areas.

Was it childish? Absolutely. However, you currently had larger things to worry about, and letting your emotions grow out of control would cause far more issues. So once again, you decided you’d just shove them down and deal with them at a later date. You knew it’d come back to bite you sooner rather than later, but in this moment, it felt like the easiest way to deal with things.

Your stomach gurgled a second time —this one was much louder than the first. You pulled your laptop from where it rested on your thighs and set it to the side on top of your nightstand. As long as you were this hungry, you would get absolutely nothing done. You were pretty sure Satoru was in his room and had been since he got home. If you could just run out to the kitchen and quietly grab something quick, chances are you’d be able to make it back without running into him.

Standing up, you slid a pair of slippers on and walked over to your bedroom door. You gently twisted the knob and pushed open the door, allowing your head to peek out of the small crack. Satoru’s room was on the opposite side of the apartment as yours, with the kitchen being in the direct center of you both. He wasn’t in your line of sight, so you opened the door further and pushed yourself forward. You ghosted across the tile floor, not a single sound coming from your footsteps. Upon reaching the end of the short hallway, you peered around the corner into the living room and dining room. Both were empty.

Perfect.

Making your way into the kitchen, you found yourself in front of the pantry. You carefully opened the door and reached in, grabbing a half-empty bag of potato chips. Slipping them under your arm, you grabbed a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies for good measure before closing the pantry back.

“You’re not coming to game night?” Satoru’s voice called out as his bedroom door swung open. You jumped back in surprise, nearly dropping the snacks under your arm.

He had just gotten out of the shower. His milky hair was still damp and effortlessly cascaded around his vivid eyes. Nothing but dark-wash jeans with a pair of gray Calvin Kleins peeking over the top graced his body. You immediately brought your eyes up to his. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice you gawking at his body.

“Well?” He looked you up and down with a small frown.

You glanced down at yourself only to remember you were wearing your pajama shorts. No wonder he was asking.

“No, I’m staying home. Have some stuff to do.” You kept your response curt as you attempted to head back towards your room.

“Oh, come on! Everyone’s gonna be there.” You already knew his face carried a massive pout without even turning around. “Even Nanami’s coming, and he hates game night!”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you made your way back into the room, using your foot to kick the door shut behind you.

Crawling back into bed, you peeled open the sleeve of cookies and shoved one into your mouth, taking as big of a bite as you could muster. Reaching over to the nightstand, you grabbed a water bottle and popped the cap off before taking a swig. You moved your computer back to your lap and opened your presentation back up.

Your phone began to vibrate next to you, and after glancing over, you saw a single message from Satoru containing nothing but a frowning face. The screen went dark as you slid your finger over and clicked the lock button. You needed to focus on your project. Everything else could wait.

Your fingers frantically typed, only occasionally pulling away to bring another cookie to your mouth. Another buzz came from your phone as the screen illuminated. It was from Satoru again, this time a message containing two frowning faces. You just rolled your eyes in response. Why was he being so damn persistent today? He rarely even went to game night himself. Usually he was the one who was locked away studying.

Suddenly, your bedroom door swung open, nearly slamming into the wall, and Satoru was standing in the entrance, both hands placed firmly on his hips.

His hair was now dry and styled as usual, landing perfectly atop the frame of his glasses he had just put on. A blue button-down was neatly tucked into his jeans with a black leather belt snaking through his belt loops. He looked as good as he always did.

Your name sweetly dripped from his lips like honey, and your heart immediately fluttered. Sometimes you really hated how you were nothing more than putty in his hands.

“Please get dressed and come out with me. It’s going to be fun.” He walked further into your room and plopped down onto the edge of your bed as he pleaded with you.

“I have this presentation to finish for Yaga’s class,” you said as you pulled your eyes back to the screen and began typing again. “The deadline is in two days, and it accounts for a pretty big chunk of my grade.”

“Then I’ll help you with it when we get back.” He tried to reach his hand over to grab your laptop, but before it could make contact, you were swatting him away.

“Gojo, stop.” Your eyes widened as you realized what you said the second it escaped your mouth.

Satoru was just as taken aback as you were. His brows instantly furrowed as a look of pure bewilderment took over his face. You don’t think you’ve ever called him that the entire time you two had known each other.

“What’s going on with you?” His voice was laced with genuine concern.

Setting your laptop to the side, you fully sat up, finally giving him your undivided attention. “Look, I’m sorry, but this presentation is a really big deal. Besides, they host game night every month. I’ll just join in on the next one.”

Your presentation’s deadline was in two days — that much was the truth. However, if it weren’t for what you had witnessed unfold earlier at the library, you’d likely still be going to Suguru and Shoko’s place.

What you had seen had likely been nothing more than a harmless interaction, but even if it wasn’t, it was none of your business. You and Satoru had never been nothing more than friends, and a one-time hookup wouldn’t change that. However, no matter how you looked at the situation, you were still hurting, and you were desperate for a distraction. If throwing yourself into schoolwork offered you even a moment of solace, you’d eat it up.

“Bring your laptop into the living room, and I’ll help you work on it.” He pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the door. “I’m gonna go tell Suguru that we’re not coming tonight.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t have—“

Your words were cut short as he shut the door behind him.

Fuck.

Of course he’d offer to stay home and help you. That was just the kind of person he was.

You shot to your feet and rushed into the living room, catching him just as he picked up his phone and began typing.

“Satoru, seriously, it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice a far higher pitch than you hoped it would be. “You don’t have to stay in and help me tonight.”

“I want to, seriously,” he said as he continued typing for a moment. His fingers came to a stop, and he looked up at you with a smile. “This is obviously important to you, besides we’ll just go next month like you said.”

“But—“

“No.” He was quick to cut you short before you could protest any further. “Now, go grab your laptop, and I’m going to go change.”

Disappearing to his room without another word, you began trudging back to your room. Once you grabbed what you needed, you headed back towards the couch and plopped down. You pulled the black coffee table towards you and set your laptop on it before folding your legs underneath you.

Satoru soon returned, this time in a white pair of sweatpants and a black compression shirt. He secured himself right next to you and immediately leaned forward, his fingers clicking through the slides you had already completed. You held your breath as his elbow bumped into your knee. The two of you were currently far too close for your liking.

This was the exact opposite of how you had wanted to spend your evening. At least if you had gone to game night, there would’ve been a bunch of other people there with you, and you wouldn’t be forced into such a close proximity with Satoru. Everything had completely backfired.

”Do you mind if I change a few things on the slides you’ve already done?” Satoru asked as he glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Not at all.”

You watched as he sat back up and leaned against the back of the couch. He set your computer on his lap, and the sounds of typing and clicking soon followed.

Scooting over as far as you could, you laid against the couch’s armrest and began mindlessly scrolling through social media. The tension in the air was palpable, at least to you anyways. Satoru had no idea how you felt or what was truly going on, and he was terrible at reading others’ emotions anyways. He always had been.

Roughly an hour passed with the two staying in the same positions, neither one speaking a single word. You locked your phone and rose to your feet. A pair of cerulean eyes cut up to you as soon as your weight shifted off the couch cushions.

“Going to get a snack,” you informed him as you shuffled over to the refrigerator.

Satoru stood up and immediately followed suit. “Do we have anything sweet?”

You couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He truly never changes. “As long as you live here, we’ll always have something sweet.”

“Oh?” A shit-eating grin spread across his face, stretching ear to ear as he reached around you into the now open fridge.

Your cheeks grew hot as you turned your face back towards the fridge, hoping he wouldn’t notice. You smacked his hand away, and he immediately pulled it back. “Now, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. And wait your turn, I was here first.”

Reaching in, you grabbed a container of chocolate-covered strawberries and turned around, setting them on the counter. You flipped open the clear, plastic lid and pulled out one dipped in white chocolate that was decorated with red sprinkles. Bringing it up to your lips, you sank your teeth in and took a generous bite, only leaving the leaves for you to discard.

Satoru was staring at you, and you already knew he wanted some. You flipped the open container towards him and motioned at the five remaining strawberries as an offer.

“Are you not going to feed me one?” He fluttered his eyelashes, a smile still gracing his face.

You rolled your eyes in response and shoved the container of strawberries closer to him. “Absolutely not.”

His bottom lip protruded into the most dramatic pout he could muster. “We’ve been best friends for almost twenty years, and you won’t even feed me a strawberry.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and snatched up a strawberry, this one covered in a layer of milk chocolate with white chocolate stripes. He opened his mouth expectantly, and you brought it up to his lips. He took a bite, and you could’ve sworn his smile grew even larger with every chew. If there was one thing about Satoru, he loved his sweets.

“Are you happy now?”

You received an immediate hum of approval as you closed the lid and turned to set them back in the fridge. “You know, Satoru, after all these years, you’re still just as annoying as ever.”

“Annoying, huh?” You froze as his breath was suddenly hot on your ear. The container fell from your hand at the sudden sensation and hit the plastic shelf with a clank.

Before you could react, he placed a soft kiss on your neck, just below your earlobe. A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and slipped underneath the hem of your tank top. Flashbacks of the week prior flooded your mind, and the way you felt was almost identical. You knew, after everything, you should end this before it escalated, but once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. The second his lips touched you, all logic went out the window.

Your hands settled on top of his and guided them downwards until they sunk under the waistband of your shorts. He pulled you backwards, and as soon as your bodies collided, you could feel his hard length rubbing against you. Satoru left a gentle trail of kisses along the side of your neck as his hands sunk lower and lower.

His right index finger slid between your folds and immediately made its way to your entrance. He wasted no time sinking it in as far as it could possibly go. A gasp escaped you at the sudden intrusion, and you leaned forward, grabbing onto the fridge door for support as he curled his finger inside of you.

“Already soaked,” he cooed as his left hand found its way to your clit. You let out a whimper as he began to slowly draw circles around the sensitive nub, his lips never leaving your neck.

He continued until you were just about to reach your climax before retracting both of his hands from you and spinning you around. You opened your mouth to protest the sudden loss of contact, but before you could get any words out, he shoved the refrigerator closed and pushed you back against the stainless steel. Satoru immediately fell to his knees and lifted your right leg over his shoulder while your left was still firmly planted on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you I wanted something sweet.” In one fluid motion, he pulled down both your shorts and your panties. Within an instant, his mouth was on you. You let out a moan as he began gently moving his tongue back and forth. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to savor it.

“Thought about this all week,” he confessed. You couldn’t tell if the butterflies you felt were from the physical pleasure or his sudden admission that the night you shared hadn’t left his mind.

Before your thoughts could stray further, Satoru placed his left hand under the upper part of your right thigh, offering you much-needed support as he began to pick up the pace. You entwined your fingers into his soft strands and gently tugged on them, prompting a quiet groan from him.

Your left leg began trembling and your right heel dug into the muscles on his back as you grew close. Heat began pooling in your abdomen. Your eyes forced shut as you threw your head back. Satoru continued to lap at your clit as your moans grew louder and louder. Your climax exploded through you, and his grip on you tightened as your body jerked forward. He slowed his pace back down, allowing you to ride it out before pulling back.

He rose to his feet and instantly captured your lips with his. The kiss was messy and desperate as he pulled you into him. Both of his hands slipped underneath you, and as he lifted you up into the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

He deepened your kiss as he carried you towards the couch, his tongue prying your lips apart and pushing its way into your mouth. Lowering himself down onto the couch, he brought you with him, your knees landing on both sides of his lap. He finally broke the kiss, a thick string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours as he briefly pulled away.

“Please let me fuck you,” he pleaded breathlessly as he slipped his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock sprung free, the tip swollen and red, leaking beads of clear fluid.

You leaned forward, raising yourself up enough for him to line up perfectly with your entrance. Lowering yourself just a bit, his tip began pressing into your cunt, prompting a soft groan from him. In a singular, swift movement you pushed all the way down, taking him all in one go. A second, louder groan fell from his lips as a gasp escaped yours.

His hands connected with your waist, slipping underneath your tank top and pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples as you slowly began bouncing up and down on his cock.

His tongue encircled the hardened tip as he brought one of his hands to the other, capturing it between his thumb and index finger, rubbing back and forth.

You threw your head back as you started to pick up the rhythm. “I thought about this all week.” Your admission was tumbling from your mouth before you even knew what you were saying.

“How your hands felt on my body and your mouth on mine.” You knew you should quit while you were ahead, but you felt so intoxicated by him you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop. “The way your cock fit inside me perfectly, like it was made for me.”

He pulled back, both of his hands gripping your ass as he took control of the pace, guiding you up and down his length. “If you don’t stop talking like that, I’m not gonna last.”

Your head fell forward and rested against his shoulder as he rutted into you. His pace was far rougher than the first night the two of you shared.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Satoru managed to choke out between his symphony of groans.

His cock repeatedly pushed into your cervix as he pushed himself as far into you as he could physically go. His pace began to grow sloppy as he continued ramming in and out of your sopping cunt.

You could feel him twitch inside of you before he began flooding your insides with his thick, white cum. He thrust into you a few more times as he rode out his climax, his warm seed and your slick juices dripping out from around the edges of his cock and running down your inner thighs onto his lap.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, and closed your eyes. He wrapped his arms around you, still not pulling out, and allowed you to rest there for just a moment as he attempted to catch his own breath.

“Did you mean what you said?” He mumbled, his lips so close to yours that you could inhale him. “That you thought about me all week?”

“Mhm,” you opened your eyes to see a bright blue pair staring right back at you from behind the lenses of his glasses. “Did you?”

“I did,” his voice was incredibly soft as he offered a smile.

The position the two of you found yourselves in was far too intimate for friends who were just hooking up. Whether he realized it yet or not, whatever arrangement you shared with one another would never be casual. You knew the truth was that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to outrun your feelings for him. You could desperately push them down and try to drown them out, but they’d always be there, bubbling back up to the surface until they finally erupted.

You knew what you had to do now. Coming clean and confessing how you felt was truly the only viable option. Not tonight, but soon. Even if your feelings were unrequited, you couldn’t hold them in any longer, because you knew that Satoru Gojo was the sun — and you’d never be able to escape being stuck in his orbit.

prev chapter | next chapter

summary: why doesn't your boyfriend's dad like you?? you're rich, pretty... somewhat nice! and you have amazing fashion sense. whatever, you're not the type to shrink under pressure. and anyway, he’s stuck with you forever.

notes: touya todoroki x spoiled!reader, suggestive, tw: enji todoroki, no quirk au, unedited, reader mentions marriage, she is very bold very diva!

word count: 1.2k

the wind flutters through your open windows, carrying in the scent of salt air and daddy’s money. you grin at the breeze like it’s flirting with you, tugging playfully at your silky pink robe.

"my father doesn't even want you near me let alone on our yacht."

you huff, folding your arms like a spoiled brat. "why not? i'm rich, i'm pretty, i'm.. kind." you hum, fluttering your lashes in faux innocence.

touya smirks, holding up a finger. "doesn't like liars either."

"shut up!" you roll your eyes with a huff. "i'm going." there’s a pout in your tone as you stomp away with the flare of someone used to getting her way.

you ignore his knowing sigh before continuing from inside your barbie dreamhouse closet. "and he'll just haveta suck it up!"

"okay whatever, my brother won't leave you alone though." your boyfriend notes, sitting down at your vanity boredly.

"i don't care!" your voice echoes from somewhere between your shoe wall and color-coded lingerie drawer.

touya grins, lifting some glittery serum bottle to eye level and inspecting it before dropping it back onto the humongous vanity and shamelessly looking through your belongings. skincare, makeup, mess.

"the fuck is too faced?" he squints at the label of a blush cover. "you're not two-faced, you're just a bitch."

you reappear from the walk-in closet, mini skirt in hand as you stare at him with a small grin. "you're one to talk, daddy's boy."

"that doesn't make me a bitch- also ow?" he sasses.

you pad across the pink plush carpet as your lips curl into a grin. "you're my little bitch...!" you coo, blowing him a kiss.

"not cute." he rolls his eyes, unamused.

“very cute,” you correct in singsongy tone, draping the mini skirt over your meticulously made bed before flitting across your extravagantly large room in search of accessories.

“what if i said i don’t want you to come?” he grunts when you pick up some earrings and hold them against your ears, ogling yourself in one of your many mirrors.

“i wouldn’t believe you, duh.”

“right.” he dryly chuckles, fingers tapping against the vanity. “and why is that?”

you twirl a diamond-studded hoop against your ear, admiring the way it sparkles in the afternoon summer sun spilling through your windows. “cuz i'm perfect.”

“you’re insufferable, that’s what.”

the todorokis' yacht gleams smugly as it floats in the private dock’s crystal clear water. your miu miu heels click against the polished deck as you board, phone in hand and already opening the front facing camera.

you hum to yourself, snapping a pouty selfie at the breeze tousling your hair just right.

touya trails behind, dressed in his typical "yeah i've got money but i only hint at it" way. black tee, loose tommy hilfiger shorts, silver chain glinting in the sun.

you flash a sugary smile at a nearby crew member. “can you bring us some champagne? the pink one, not the regular one!”

you stomp toward the upper deck, calling over your shoulder, “i’m going to tan. don’t talk to me unless you’re complimenting my legs or bringing me fruit, kay?”

touya follows with a slow, lazy hum, hands in his pockets. “what happened to being kind, huh?”

“i am kind,” you say, reclining onto one of the cushioned loungers like you were born on it. “i just have standards.”

he leans down to mumble in your ear, probably not even aware of the stir of arousal he brings because if it. “you mean you just like when people worship you.”

your grin is immediate and shameless. “duh. why else do you think i let you stick around?”

“you dragged me here,” he reminds you, recalling the earlier conversation when he told you he didn’t wanna go to his family’s outing.

“and yet,” you coo, tugging him closer by the hem of his shirt, “you’re still standing here. wearing the sunscreen i packed for you cuz i knew you'd forget!”

he sighs, but doesn't pull away. “you’re exhausting.”

“you love me, baby.” you smile, pecking his lips.

“yeah, unfortunately.”

from behind his shades, you catch the way he watches you as you stretch out in your designer bikini, glittering in the sun like a rich little menace. you reach over, snatching his drink without asking.

“my dad’s staring,” touya mutters, going to sit beside you, his hand brushing yours.

“good!” you chirp, sipping from the glass with a pop of your lip gloss. “let him, maybe then he’ll finally realize i don’t care what he thinks.”

there’s a beat of silence between you two as the boat finally begins to move, pulling away from the dock. you tilt your head, watching touya out of the corner of your eye.

“you look pretty in the sunlight,” you say softly.

he smirks, eyes still closed with his head leaned against the chair. “yeah?”

“mhm!” you hum. “almost as good as me.”

he groans, dragging a hand over his face dramatically. “there it is.”

the yacht has only just slipped into deeper water when you start to get annoyed by it. enji's stare. you roll your eyes, clutching the glass of champagne delivered to you with a slight glare at the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward you.

“excuse me,” comes the gravelly, serious voice of enji todoroki. you turn your head with the exaggerated grace of someone expecting paparazzi. he stands in a crisp linen button-down and expensive loafers, looking like a walking tax bracket.

“yes?” you blink sweetly, tipping your sunglasses down your nose.

“you plan to spend the whole afternoon lounging?”

you give him your most dazzling, weaponized grin. “duh! it's a yacht, not a bootcamp.”

“you know, this isn’t your world, little girl.” he says lowly. “you float into things, take space. you don’t understand what it means to actually be needed somewhere.”

the air sharpens like it’s waiting for a very unnecessary fight, but you just hum, smiling to yourself as you pick up a chocolate covered strawberry from a chilled bowl the crew brought over.

you slide your shades up into your hair after taking a bite into the sweet fruit. touya exhales next to you, readjusting his position like he already knows something cheeky is about to leave your mouth.

“mister todoroki, i've tried to get you to like me.” you lick a smudge of chocolate from your thumb as you continue chewing, then sit up straighter, crossing your legs.

"but you're wrong. it is my world." you giggle. "i'm gonna be the first mrs. todoroki of my generation," you say simply, ignoring touya's choking and the widened eyes of enji. "so maybe you should treat me with more respect."

enji doesn’t answer, too ticked off. he just exhales with his eyes closed, like he’s releasing a deep, decades long sigh of regret, and walks off— probably to find a stiff drink and pretend you don’t exist.

you sigh, laying back against your lounge chair like nothing as you slide your shades back down.

"what the hell was that?" touya murmurs, still facing you.

"my announcement."

“baby, you can’t just-”

“you already let me sort your cologne drawer!" you interrupt, tilting your head to him. "i’m already halfway to being your wife.”

touya covers his face with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut. “you are the scariest woman alive.” he mumbles.

you let out a satisfied chirp, taking a sip from your glass with a pop of your lips. “compliment me and maybe i’ll let you kiss me with tongue later.”

“jesus christ.”

꒰ 𑄽𑄺 ⠀you have a new message from dolly!

not proofread, might add more to this later :3