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bsf! bachira who had never experienced friendship before, mainly because he was bullied and outcasted in his childhood. so when he meets you and develops a bond, he never lets you out of his sight.
bsf! bachira who constantly shows up to your doorstep without so much as a message, just smiles and a dream as he greets your mom and asks for permission to go out with you.
bsf! bachira who doesn’t know why he feels flutters in his stomach all of a sudden when you descend down the stairs in a different get-up than usual… and he just can’t help but be blunt.
his pupils practically form hearts as he looks up at you adorningly, mouth agape, “holy, wow… you look like you were kissed by angels!”
“awh, thank you, bachira!”
“my monster is telling me i should kiss you too…”
bf! bachira who literally runs to you every time you meet, his body shaking ecstatically as he magnetically attaches his limbs to yours, completely disregarding the fact that he’s a grown ass man and you’re no weightlifter.
bf! bachira who never runs out of things to talk about; you never have to worry about your dates being boring or awkward, because he’ll do enough talking for the both of you!
bf! bachira who loves to tease, never letting an opportunity pass him by.
“megu, can you hand me my phone?” you ask politely, looking up from your plate as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
the man in question hums in contemplation, “i don’t know, can i?”
you sigh, rolling your eyes, “please?”
bachira giggles before sitting up and reaching over to grab your phone, only to extend his arm away from your direction, “kiss first.”
fiancė! bachira who doesn’t need to introduce himself to people you meet—the huge rock on your finger does that for him.
fiancė! bachira who never outgrew his teenage habits and sticks around anyway, tailing you like a lost puppy despite the media and the parasocial headlines diagnosing him with separation anxiety.
fiancė! bachira who says the most romantic one liners ever without thought, then proceeds to brush it off and starts doing something silly afterwards.
“i don’t really care about the bad things that happen in my life anymore because i think i used up all my luck when i met you,” he says, scrolling through his phone without so much as sparing you a glance.
“…what?”
“woah, honey, look! a naruto and spiderman edit in one! hey, they should’ve included yuji itadori, too…”
husband! bachira who spoils his kid rotten and is practically singlehandedly funding your local ice cream shop’s rent.
husband! bachira who never misses a day in his kid’s life, always excited to pinch their soft cheeks and tease them as if them crying wasn’t his responsibility.
husband! bachira who, despite his love, fights with his kid over your attention, claiming he had you first and that you love him more.
“mommy, i’m scared of the dark. can you come sleep with me?” your kid peeks out from the doorway of your bedroom, tears filling up her waterline as she holds back from crying.
“you’re growing up, sweetheart. you need to start being independent,” you say softly, looking up from your cozy position in bed.
“but daddy is bigger than me! he should be independent first!” your kid cries, tears finally streaming down her rosy cheeks as your husband sticks his tongue out at her, laying down on your stomach.
rin itoshi is creative in all sorts of ways… except when it comes to romance.
with all the paparazzi and the cameras preying on the streets, the two of you had decided to just stay in and watch movies together in bed for your fourth year anniversary. a basket of snacks, two letterboxd accounts, and andy samberg on the big screen. this might just be the life.
rin mindlessly fishes out the box for something to chew on when he gets poked by something sharp. he hisses, retracting his hand so fast, even you almost got whiplashed.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, popping a chip into your mouth.
he feels around the basket for it before taking out a push pop ring, pouting and glaring at it as if it were a person.
“awe, poor baby,” you mock, gently taking his hand in your own before giving his finger, “is this where it got you?”
rin huffs before looking away and withdrawing his hand with haste, but you don’t miss the red hues in his cheeks, highlighted by the brightness of the screen.
he looks down, the push pop still in his hands. his eyes flit toward the screen, “amy santiago, will you marry me?”
his body moves before he can even think, and suddenly he’s presenting the plastic ring to you, teal eyes big and adorning.
you stare at him, and for a second, he thinks he might have messed up.
but then you raise your left hand, “yes.”
rin gulps as he pushes the ring in, gently so that your skin doesn’t react. then, you extend your arm and examine it.
“cute, huh?” you say mindlessly.
rin takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles, and you don’t miss the way he blinks rather rapidly—something he only did when he was nervous.
he reaches over to the nighstand before opening his drawer and taking out a small, black box. wait…
he opens it and you’re practically blinded at the sight of what’s inside—a 24k carat ring, adorned with pure clarity.
“oh my God, rin?!” you gasp, taking the box off his hands and ogling over the content in every angle possible, “what the hell?! how long have you had this?” you ask ecstatically.
“few months…” he admits, scratching the back of head.
“that was the most unromantic engagement in the history of mankind. you stole jake peralta’s proposal!” you exclaim, “and you didn’t even say the words… so lame,” you huff.
“well… you already said yes, so no take backs, okay?”
bachira meguru heard the quote “to be loved is to be inconvenienced” once and ran away with it…
because why else would he be waking you up at 2:54 in the morning?
“baby, baby!” he shakes you awake, your day already ruined before it even began.
you sigh and push his hand off, clicking your tongue, “tsk, what, meguru?”
you think the use of his full first name instead of the usual nickname would’ve done it, but bachira only smiles at you as he answers.
“i had a dream that a guy was hitting on you, so i need you to go to sleep at the same time as me so we can jump him, okay?” he giggles, explaining it like it was the simplest thing in the world.
“wha— megs…” you sigh, scratching your head in annoyance.
“don’t tell me you’re gonna let him hit on you?” he pouts.
“…fuck, okay, fine,” you roll your eyes, turning in bed.
“nice!” he chirps before snuggling up to you, finding space between your arms and squeezing in.
“what the—“
“we gotta touch so the connection is stronger! it’s like hotspot, babe.”
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nagi seishiro isn’t just your boyfriend, he’s your baby, and it’s never been more evident in the way you have to coddle him.
you brush his cloudlike hair as he taps his phone furiously, pouting.
“my teammates are so terrible, it’s a wonder they even hit the install button with their aims,” he huffs as you brush through a knot, making him wince as you pull.
“sorry, baby,” you apologize, giving him a kiss on the cheek before continuing, softer this time.
“‘s okay… look, this guy keeps wiping out my team,” he says, “hiorigurt, i’ll end your bloodline.”
“you’re being bad again, sei,” you say, “what did we say about trashtalk?”
“sorry. jus annoyed…”
you finish brushing his hair before giving him a kiss on the crown of his head, “what’s all the fuzz about, anyway? it’s just a game.”
“it’s fun,” he answers as you rest your chin against his shoulder, watching his phone.
“play with me instead,” you say, peeking at his face.
“but if i afk, i’ll get a penalty…” he glances in your direction for a split second before focusing on the game yet again.
“yeah, but you’re not even having fun. you’re carrying your whole team, look at the leaderboard.”
nagi contemplates for a second before…
“fine. what app?”
“i’m okay, what’s up with you?”
or when he turns and tosses in bed, disturbing even your sleep schedule.
you turn halfway around to face him, “sei?”
he whines, looking away as he lies beside you, his palm against his stomach, “yeah, yeah. this is what happens when i stay up gaming too much, i know,” he says, irritation laced in his tone.
you sigh, sitting up before gently placing his head against your lap, “why are you sulking already? i haven’t even said anything,” you chuckle.
“don’t need to… know you’ll just scold me,” he says, words all tough despite nuzzling his face against your palm as you cup his cheek, practically chasing your touch.
“because you never listen, baby,” you say, moving your free hand to rake against his scalp as you massage him gently. thank God you combed his hair.
“mmh, not true…” he says, already dozing off to sleep in your lap.
you think about how easy it would be to win an argument against him in this condition, but ultimately decide against it. he looks too peaceful, too soft… it’d be like pushing a kitten off you—it’s morally illegal.
just when you retract your hand away, thinking nagi’s fallen asleep, he whines against you, turning to his side.
“mmh… keep going,” he says, “and you haven’t kissed me good night yet.”
ugh, what a baby.
“is that how a polite, young man asks?”
“…please?”
and don’t even mention how he never does chores.
you’re currently mixing fried rice around in a pan to cook it evenly when nagi comes up behind you and drapes his body across yours, almost making you falter.
“why is there a big ass koala on my back right now…” you ask, side eyeing him playfully.
“why is there a big ass rat in my kitchen using up all my food?”
you push him off of you as he laughs, giving you a few seconds to yourself before wrapping his body against yours once again. honestly, you have no idea how your bodies haven’t melted into one with all the times he’s pulled this on you.
“sei, can you do the dishes after we eat?” you ask.
nagi sighs, “why do i have to do it? i just woke up…”
“because i’m already making breakfast and i washed the dishes last night,” you reply, “what have you done?”
“…fine. but only because i’m too lazy to argue,” he answers.
“and then can you to fold the laundry and sweep the floors after? also choki needs watering, and there’s a…”
loving you comes easily for rin itoshi, but… showing it is another conversation.
“do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”
you perk up from his chest, almost flinching. “um… did you say something?” you ask, brows furrowed.
rin looks away, angling his face—not fully to the point where you’d point it out, but just enough for you to not see the hint of red decorating his cheeks… or so he thought, anyway.
“are you blushing?” you ask, giggling as you turn to face him fully, sitting up slightly.
“you always said i should work on my intimacy issues so…” he mutters, suddenly feeling bashful as he gulps.
“yeah, because i feel like i’m just a glorified friend of yours, not a girlfriend. i mean, you never do anything romantic!”
“that’s not true…” he says, voice low yet defensive as he finally meets your gaze.
“oh yeah?”
rin takes your hand with no hesitation and presses it against his chest, directly on top of where his heart lies. “any time we cuddle, i match my breathing patterns to yours.”
“you’re adorable, but that’s not exactly romantic,” you giggle, completely forgetting one thing— rin is nothing if not argumentative.
“i’ve memorized your sleeping schedule, your cycles, your breathing patterns. i know you take shorter breaths when it’s hot, or when you’re anxious. do you even know that about yourself?”
“okay, sassy man apocalypse patient zero, but it’s not exactly like that’s a significant thing to know,” you retort.
rin furrows his brows, almost pouting as he scowls at you. “i carry tissues all the time because i know you hate eating with your lip products on. i turn the a/c on higher than necessary because i know you like staying under the covers, even if it’s hot. i always put your shoes on top of the shoe rack while you’re getting ready because i know you hate looking for it,” he says, “significant enough for you?”
shidou ryusei is surprisingly good when it comes to warding away creeps.
aside from the sheer fact that he’s an eyeliner-wearing, ombre-hair-having, 6-foot-something man, he’s also immune to embarrassment. the concept of shame is something he’s never learned, nor will he ever bother to.
“hey, sexy. you tryna get out of here or what?” a man approaches you at the bar as you order a drink, making you sigh.
you’re already thinking of all the ways you’d love to reject this random before shidou beats you to it.
“careful, man, her dog bites,” he says, sipping his drink.
the man huffs, “what fucking dog?”
“this one,” he says before barking loudly, chomping down on his teeth as he walks closer to the man, “ruff, ruff! ggrrr, woof woof!”
ugh, and does he have to do mimick those pawing gestures too? fucking furry.
he scoffs and chuckles as the man runs away in shame, then proceeds to look at you as if he were expecting validation.
you roll your eyes and cross your arms, “you’re so weird.”
“damn, i did all that and i didn’t even a “good boy” out of it?” he asks, palm finding its way to rest against your hip.
you cup his face and leave a peck on his cheek, “good job, puppy.”
CONTAINS — codependence, limerence, toxicity, manic shidou, adhd charles, shizophrenic bachira, manipulation/shidou’s a big fat liar, suggestive dialogue, catcalling, violence, mentions of domestic violence, profanity
disclaimer: i am in no way romanticizing mental illnesses or psychiatric facilities. the events below are strictly fictional and are in no way a reflection of life inside mental institutions. this is purely for entertainment purposes and is to be treated as such.
“nurse!!! that freaky schizophrenic bit me!”
a voice shrills across the hallway of your room, and as you step out, a blonde boy runs past you in a hurry, holding his arm like it was going to fall off any minute.
a naked man follows him, clad in only his boxers and some socks. there’s a glimmer in his pupils, and you’ve stuck around the psych long enough to know what those eyes mean.
“ahh shit,” a voice spawns behind you, and you don’t even need to turn around to identify the speaker, “i think this is my fault…” he chuckles.
“how come?” you scoff, watching as the two boys run around the lobby like headless chickens. it’s still early—at least a quarter before the designated wake up schedule, which means the nurses are still busy prepping and the other patients are still asleep.
shidou giggles as he steps forward, placing himself by your side as the two of you admire the view, “i drew a pentagram on the wall because bachira pissed me off. think i triggered him…” he looks up, a finger on his chin as if to ponder.
you turn your head slowly, not quite comprehending what he said. “you… drew a pentagram on the wall… knowing your roommate’s schizophrenic?” you ask.
he shrugs, “he drew a dick on my coloring page.”
“on the wall, though? what did you even use?”
“i snuck one of the crayons in between my toes,” he smirks proudly, looking at you as if he were expecting some praise.
“get away from me, i don’t want rabies—!”
later that day, you lounge by the common area, bored out of your mind. you’re sitting down on the couch, watching the television with a pillow on your lap as you scroll through the channels.
it’s been a few months since you and shidou were turned in by the police. you’ve since taken the time to truly reevaluate your priorities, which thankfully helped you in getting better. your head’s clearer, and you’re not as angry or irritable anymore.
when you were sixteen or so, your first therapist told you that irritability is often a manifestation of melancholy, and that sometimes, it’s not you speaking—it’s grief. grief for all you’ve lost, all the people, but most of all, it’s grief for the idealized version of you that never was, the person that you think you’d be, had you avoided all the traumatic events you’d gone through.
you didn’t learn much from her, but you did learn that, at least.
it’s helped you find inner clarity, and before you knew it, your discharge papers were being processed, and your sessions have been less about your symptoms and more about outside plans, aftercare, and follow-up appointments.
the local psychiatrist’s been looking more and more satisfied with you throughout your talks, and you were even relieved off of nurse surveillance. the world seems brighter this time around, and though the past few months have served as a wonderful opportunity for you to really build your sense of identity, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t miss this place once you’re out.
“i’m tellin ya—! mppfh… ‘t’wasn’t me—!”
you roll your eyes as you turn around on the sofa to see shidou in a straightjacket and a dog muzzler, thrashing as he’s strapped to a board. that’s one thing not to miss, at least.
“thisissoexcessive! i’m suing you all! i’ll kill you!” his yelling comes out muffled as you see two nurses roll him away, one with a red crayon on her hand.
even from outside, you’re able to see the naked man from earlier—who is now dressed, thankfully—shake his head as he watches shidou get dragged out of their room.
he huffs and, as if talking to someone else, he pouts, “i know, right? that’s what he gets for trying to scare me!”
a tap on your shoulder alerts you, and when you turn around, it’s the same blonde boy from earlier as well.
he offers you a cheshire-like smile, then introduces himself. “i’m charles, what is your name?” his french accent is thick as he speaks, his snaggletooth glinting under the lights.
“oh, uh… i’m—“
“actually, i already know who you are,” he cuts off, hands on his hips as he proudly boasts. “shidou told me you’re his girlfriend, and he said you’re really crazy!” his eyes sparkle with adoration as he says the last part, looking up at you with eyes as big as the sun.
“…he said that?” your eyes narrow, feeling your annoyance for shidou grew.
“yup!” the boy—charles—nods eagerly. “he said you’re really fun, but you’re going away soon…” he looks down, as if disappointed, “so i asked the nurses for your contact info!” he smiles.
“my contact info?”
“but err, they said contacting people you meet from the psych ward is prohibited, but i’m a contrarian, see?” he giggles, rambling, “so i figured it out! come!”
charles takes you by the arm and sits you down on a table before running off and coming back with a box of scrabble.
he lays out the board and spreads the letters across, then looks at you.
“we can pretend to play! here,”
he lays out his first word, c-h-e-v-a-l-i-e-r.
“that is my last name! now your turn.”
you sigh, but reluctantly put spell out your last name under his. “so, charles, what brings you here, anyway?” you ask, trying to put on a pretense of actually playing by rounding up all the squares and putting them back in the bag before giving charles a select few, then taking some for yourself.
“i like to parkour, and i got caught trespassing more than once. so, to avoid juvie, i said it was because of my adhd. i thought they’d let me go but they put me here,” he says, dejected at the memory.
“oh!”
“yes, and shidou tells me you like parkour, too! he said we can all play together when we get out, that’s why i approached you!”
charles adds on a word, connecting it to his name.
i-n-s-t-a.
you take the hint, writing down your handle as you look for the right letters. apparently shidou’s told him all about you.
“so, where is your most impressive jump, mademoiselle?” charles asks, spelling out what you assume is his own instagram as you finish.
“i jumped a guy in back in junior high school, does that count?” you say, not really knowing how to respond.
charles laughs, throwing his head back, “you’re really funny! is it true you tried to kill shidou?”
“that’s… an exaggeration,” you say bashfully.
“but you harmed him, no?”
“yeah.”
“and you threaten him a lot?”
“…yeah.”
“and you ran away with him?”
“okay, yeah, but—“
“so you two are together! i thought he was joking when he said that. you’re too pretty for him,” he says, cleaning up the board.
“wait, that’s it?” you ask, confused.
charles clears out every tile except for the ones that spell out your instagram, “mhm. i don’t want to put too many words, otherwise i’ll get confused. i got a concussion when a guy kicked a ball into my head two weeks ago.”
“…but you were admitted here three weeks ago?”
“oh! maybe it was four weeks ago, then,” he says, handling the box with care as to not shuffle the tiles and mess up the order, “goodbye, mrs. shidou!”
the following week, you’re packing your bags when a knock on your door stops you. you turn around to see shidou, finally released and out of his straightjacket… in a suit?!
“are you tung tung? ‘cause i’m tryna give you some tongue tongue!” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a huge grin.
you scoff and stand up to walk towards him, eyeing him up and down, “what’s this about? and what happened to you? you had on a muzzle and everything last time i saw you.”
shidou scoffs, “they hit the pentagon.”
“what?”
“nah, i’m kidding. they found my pentagram,” he says, “now will you come with me? there’s something i gotta show you.”
you look at him suspiciously as he offers you his hand.
“um… no thanks, i have to pack.”
shidou huffs and pouts as you turn around and go back to your bag. he follows you inside, and to your surprise, presents you a bouquet of paper flowers—thin, little pieces of white stick out, mimicking baby’s breaths as a variety of bigger, more colorful flowers surrounds them, a haze of pink and yellow capturing your haze as you gape at them.
“what the fuck…” you say, taking it from him as you look at it, examining from all angles. the handiwork is amazing—this could easily pass as something made by a professional origami artist. “did you make this?” you ask.
shidou gloats, “yeah, in your favorite colours, too.”
“you don’t even know my favorite colours.”
“well, whatever it is, it’s pink and yellow now. ‘cause you like my hair.”
“i don’t like your hair.”
“you like me, though.”
“not even close,” you try to deadpan, holding in your smile, “but, um… thanks. this is really nice.”
shidou smiles, “you’re welcome. now come with me, i gotta show you something.”
“tsk,” you click your tongue disapprovingly, “ryusei, i told you. i’m busy.”
“what if i say please?”
you sigh. it’s clear he’s not letting up anytime soon.
“fine. but be quick, okay?”
“well, i do love quickies,” he chuckles to himself, leading you to the cafeteria.
once you get there, your eyes widen at the sight. there are makeshift banners hanging on the ceiling, multiple pieces of paper glued together and cut up into a lace-like design. the tables are decorated with smaller versions of the bouquet in your hands, and there’s a cake and a few boxes of sweets in front. down across the room, bachira and charles both stand, adorned in a suits as bachira holds… a bible?
“what is this?” you ask, looking at shidou as you scoff.
“our wedding!” he smiles, hands on his hips as he looks at you proudly, “i had to beg on my knees for the nurses to order us some outside food, especially after i yelled at them last week that i’d kill them, but at least the art therapist was on board when i explained my plan!”
you furrow your brows, looking shidou up and down in mock sympathy as you speak, “ryusei, i didn’t know you also had delusions of grandeur… have you spoken to your psychiatrist about this?”
“stop playing and come with me to do our vows. you know, it took me at least four hours to convince bachira that he’s a priest. perks of having a schizophrenic roommie,” he says, looking over at said roommie, who’s currently nodding as he reads the bible.
you giggle, unable to hold back your appreciation. “okay, fine. but i don’t know my vows,” you say, taking his hand in yours as you walk down the “aisle”.
“me neither, let’s just wing it,” he says.
the mock wedding goes on for a little bit, with bachira scolding shidou every time he cursed during his vows or mentioned your body, claiming it was disrespectful and lustful, and insisting they started the entire ceremony again. the other patients—or guests, rather—started getting so annoyed to the point where they threatened to throw tomatoes at him.
“hey! violence is a no-no!” bachira retorts.
the day ends with you and shidou sitting down on your own table, a single slice of shared cake in front of you as the others eat and converse.
“ryusei?”
“mhm?” he asks, hand on your ass as you lean your head against his shoulder, your entire body tilted in his direction.
“i know i can be difficult so… thanks for sticking around,” you say, looking up at his pink eyes. you gulp as a wave of bashfulness takes over you, “and… thanks for this, as well. this was a great going away party. even if you don’t call it that,” you look over at your hand, a push pop ring wrapped around your finger.
“yeah, praise me more, baby. i’m so hard,” shidou chuckles, deep from his chest as it heaves, before you smack him, “kidding! just remember you’re married when you leave this place, a’ight?”
it’s been a couple weeks after you got discharged. despite visiting the ward weekly for your scheduled appointments, you haven’t seen nor heard from shidou even once after your mock marriage, which was weird, even for shidou. this was the guy who pulled the fire alarm to run away with you after seeing a few minutes of your vulnerable side—there’s no way he hadn’t thought of a way to contact you, right? even if it weren’t for the prohibition of electronics inside the ward, there was always physical letters, or at least showing up whenever you dropped by.
you take a deep breath as you push away those thoughts. it wasn’t like overthinking it was going to magically make him appear in front of you, anyway. you’re not a princess, and this isn’t a fairytale, and you definitely don’t keep the paper flowers in your closet, where you see it everyday before your day begins.
as you walk, you open your phone to check for any notifications you might’ve missed. you bring your drink up to your lips, and you’re about to take a sip when…
“ou shi—“ “fuck!”
the liquid spills out against the the concrete sidewalk, ruined as your cup continues to drip.
the sun is hot against your skin, but it pales in comparison to the temperature at which your blood boils. you had been looking forward to that specific beverage all week—the local coffee shop near your house, which had been all the craze in your town, was always packed full. this was the first time you were able to purchase something without having to fight off like you were souls in hell, desperate to crawl out.
you look up to see the perpetrator, and it’s none other than…
shidou?! out in public? in your neighborhood?!
“what the fuck, man?!” you yell, unable to contain your temper.
shidou puts his hands up in mock surrender, “okay, baby, i swear that wasn’t on purpose—“
“no, you need to get a new drink. you need to replace this shit,” you press, walking over to him as your nail digs into his chest accusingly.
shidou chuckles, putting his hands down as one of them holds yours. does he think this is a fucking joke?! you quickly snap back your hand, repulsed at the contact.
“hey, if you wanted to go for a drink with me, you could’ve just asked,” his smug smirk appears yet again, and you can confidently say that you’ve never been more annoyed at a sight.
“shidou, i’m fucking serious!”
“shidou..? what happened to ryusei?” he asks, face transitioning to a perplexed expression.
you sigh, a shaky breath escaping you as you try to hold onto your patience for dear life. “i don’t know, actually, what did happen?” you sass.
shidou scoffs, amused, “okay, fine, princess. i’ll get you your coffee. which way’s the cafe?” he asks.
“ugh, forget it! i’m gonna be late, and the cafe’s probably jampacked by now,” you huff, walking away from him.
shidou follows you, turning around, “hey, what’s the big deal? we haven’t seen each other in a while. don’t you want to watch up with your husband?”
husband?! the audacity…
you stop in your tracks, scoffing as you look him dead in the eyes, “you have some nerve calling yourself that.”
“what’s the big deal?”
he’s so stupid, it hurts sometimes.
you roll your eyes and hopelessly walk away, leaving shidou in the sidewalk as he watches you go, frozen in confusion.
he wouldn’t admit it, so you wouldn’t say it. simple as that.
later that night, you’re outside as you try to catch a cab. it’s nearing midnight, definitely past safe-lady-hours. all taxis drive past you, either already with passengers or on their way home.
a man approaches you from behind, “well, damn. nice ass, sexy.”
you don’t have to turn around to know he’s ogling at you. you sigh, ignoring him as you wait for a ride.
“hey, didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to ignore people?”
“and didn’t anyone ever tell you to respect women?”
fucking superman over here, you roll your eyes, turning around to see shidou… in a scooter?!
“you need a ride, baby?” he asks, smiling at you as he leaned over the handlebars.
“what the…”
“hey!” the man from earlier shouts, “i got dibs on this one, she’s mine.”
shidou rolls closer to the man, and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at the sight. a dark skinned man of 185 centimeters and 172 pounds of muscle, rolling in a pink scooter with stickers plastered all over it, a menacing look in his face.
he towers over the creep, looking down on him with a grin, “you deaf or something? ‘cause i can sign for you if that’s the the case,” he says, then proceeds to put up his middle finger, “you know what this means?”
the guy scoffs, then throws shidou a punch, making the latter stumble back a few steps. the scooter falls down on the pavement as shidou wipes his now-bloody nose, scoffing as he stares the guy down.
shidou chuckles, giggling like a maniac before his fist connects with the man’s nose. blood gushes out immediately, dripping down onto the concrete, some spilling onto your cheeks. he doesn’t let the guy recover before he grabs his head and bangs their skulls together.
“fuck—! that’s it, that’s the good stuff…” shidou laughs wholeheartedly before pressing the man’s cheeks together and staring him dead in the eyes, “let’s do something about that tongue of yours next, yeah?”
the man thrashes against his hold, clearly terrified as he runs away without a word, almost tripping as he huffs.
shidou sighs before throwing his hair back and rubbing his forehead, then glancing at you, “sorry, baby… you’re still my number one, don’t worry,” he smiles.
“ryusei, you’re a fucking maniac,” you say, wiping the spilled blood off your cheeks.
“yeah, and you love it,” he picks up the pink scooter and hops on before rolling over to you, “i’ll drop you off, yeah, wifey?”
“no, i’m fucking serious,” you say, backing away. “this isn’t the psych ward anymore, you could… you could get arrested, or worse, what if that guy comes back for you and he’s with his friends?” your throat dries at the thought, eyes wandering around in a panic.
shidou blinks at your direction a couple times, “…but you’ve seen worse shit than that, what’s the problem?”
“the problem is it was okay at the hospital because there were nurses! and it’s different when you’re in an episode—you have no control over your actions! you can’t do that shit out here, ryu!” you practically cry as you speak, tears filling your waterline.
shidou grins, “are you worried about me?”
you scoff, looking away as you shake your head—not in denial, but in disbelief. you open your mouth to answer, but no noise comes out.
“you used to bash my head in and now you’re scared of a splash of blood,” he giggles.
“i don’t think i want to be around you right now, shidou…” you say, avoiding his gaze as you fidget.
shidou scoffs, then lets the scooter fall down on the pavement as he approaches you.
you squirm under his gaze, feeling small. he takes your chin and forces you to look up, your eyes doing anything but meeting his.
“look at me,” he commands.
you gulp as you reluctantly obey, still fidgeting with your fingers.
“what’s wrong?” shidou asks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious. was it because of the change of environment?
you shake your head. “i just… don’t feel safe around a man right now,” you answer as vague as possible, gaze leaving his.
“bullshit,” he says, “tell me the truth.”
you sigh. if there’s one thing you know, it’s that shidou doesn’t stop unless he’s got what he wants.
“i… i’ve seen men beating up their spouses before. i don’t want… i mean,” you look down on your fingers, unable to find the right words, “i just… think that a violent man will always remain a violent man, regardless of the victim.”
a few seconds go by without either of you talking, and for a moment, the world seems to pause.
“yeah, fuck,” he scratches the back of his neck, “guess that did look pretty bad, huh? but… i’m not going to do that to you.”
you look him in the eyes, your brows furrowed in worry.
he chuckles, “it is taking everything in me not to make a kinky joke right now.”
you shake your head, looking away, “you say that but you’ve already hurt me.”
“what are you…”
“you didn’t write, you didn’t call. i know you asked charles to get my contact information, shidou. and you didn’t do anything,” you practically beg as you speak.
shidou shakes his head, “no, no, baby. i did, but he wouldn’t tell me. he wouldn’t give it to me. says he’s a contrarian or something—i don’t even think 15 year olds are allowed to work in construction.”
“and when i dropped by at the ward to visit, you were never there.”
“because i was strapped down in the iso room!”
“then how did you find me? you couldn’t have looked for me earlier?”
“i just got out three days ago! i’ve been looking all over for you,” he says, voice desperate.
shidou falls down to his knees in front of you and rubs his face against your thighs. “baby… c’mon, i’d never swing on you,” he says, “i’m too terrified of you. i almost got a concussion last time,” he chuckles.
you look down at him, still not fully convinced.
shidou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a push pop ring—the very same one that he used during your mock marriage.
“doc keeps telling me i’m too fucked up to date and that i gotta work on myself, all that…” he shrugs, and for the first time, you see shidou hesitate, clearly choosing his words carefully, “but… you’ve seen me screaming, strapped down, and covered on blood. you… make me feel like i still deserve love despite my problems.”
WHEREIN — you and otoya have been friends for a while, but what happens when a simple bottle of gin changes everything between you?
warnings: toxicity, substance use, suggestive scenes, driving under the influence (DO NOT ATTEMPT), angst, avoidance, you’re both red flags, karasu x reader, bachira mention
the comfort of your bed does little to console you as you plop down, mentally and physically exhausted from the long week you’ve suffered. your muscles ache, and your brain feels like a sponge that’s been squeezed one too many times and left discarded and deformed.
DING!
your phone lights up beside you, making you turn your head as you pick it up. not wanting to get up, you reach out and read the notification from your lockscreen.
🥷🏻: karasu wants to go to the club, you coming?
you sigh, too tired to even type out a reply. you bury your face in the sheets as you groan. you don’t know when it started, but ever since meeting karasu, otoya’s been frequenting the clubs more often… or maybe it was the other way around. you’re not sure, nor do you really care. the bottomline is, it’s not good for otoya. well… it’s not like you have any right to say what he does with his life, anyway. it’s just… a little annoying, you suppose, how he flirts with women, discards them, then moves on to the next. as a woman, you feel a little guilty by association whenever you see him pick up another victim.
🥷🏻: i have your loc lol i know you’re home
🥷🏻: i’m On my way!
you don’t bother to check his follow up messages, too busy dozing off to sleep as the warm, familiar air of your dorm room engulfs you.
you find yourself wrapped in your sheets when you wake up. the lights are dimmed a warm hue of yellow—a different setting than the one you fell asleep to. someone’s been in your room.
you quickly sit up and look around, heart beating as you gulp. everything else seems to be in place when you scan the room. getting up, you go to the bathroom with light footsteps and open the door gently.
“fuck—!” otoya jumps as he opens the door at the same time, clearly taken aback at your presence. “don’t do that, bro! you scared me,” he giggles, light breaths of air leaving his lips, his eyes forming two thin lines as he smiles.
you huff, eyeing him up and down sassily. “excuse you? this is my dorm, in case you forgot,” you’re leaning against the doorframe as otoya steps out, pushing his hair back as he walks.
“you got my message?” he asks, sitting down on your couch, his legs spread as if he owned the place, completely ignoring what you’d just said.
you cross your arms before taking a seat on the opposite end of the touch, hoisting your feet in the air before placing them gently against his lap, “yeah, but i’m not in the mood.”
the interior of your studio type dorm is something otoya’s never been a fan of, and he’s never failed to remind you of that. your couch faces your bed, and in between is a glass coffee table and a rug underneath. he loves to tease you about it being a cuck couch.
but if there’s one thing in your dorm that gets his approval, it’s the sliding glass doors beside the couch that leads to the balcony. he looks out as he speaks, his right hand resting atop your calves as his left arm rests on the backrest of the couch.
“me neither, honestly,” he says, and even from a few feet away, you can see the bright stars reflecting off of his eyes. he sighs, “but i already told him we’re coming so get your ass up and get dressed.”
you whine and groan, “bruh, why would you do that?”
“because!” he chuckles, looking at you as he shakes your calves playfully, “i know you need a break, come on. didn’t you say you’re going home for the long weekend?”
“yeah, which is exactly why i need to get some rest! i’m not coming home to my parents sleep deprived!” you reply.
“dude, just let loose for tonight. come on, i know you. when’s the last time you went out?”
“half an hour ago.”
“you know what i mean—when’s the last time you had fun?”
you roll your eyes and huff, arms crossed as you look away to avoid his gaze, “…fine. but only because i don’t think i can stomach my parents for three days straight without having at least a little bit of alcohol beforehand.”
“attagirl,” he smirks as you get up and search in your closet for a decent outfit to wear. “hey, i dropped by the store on my way here. you wanna pregame?” he asks, already opening his messenger bag to take out a bottle of gin and a pack of yakult.
you look back and smile, putting on a bashful pretense of rolling your eyes. “i mean… if you insist…”
otoya laughs at you before heading over to your dorm’s kitchen space and opening the cupboards for a pitcher and some glasses, “this larp, bruh.”
you fish out a skimpy dress from your closet before showing it over to otoya, “hey, what about this?”
he looks you over as he walks back to your couch. “uh, yeah, looks good, man. i mean, i’m not the one wearing it so i don’t really care,” by the time he finishes his statement, he’s already focused elsewhere, his gaze fixated on the drinks as if he were some chemist cooking up something in the lab.
you huff before walking over to the couch and sitting beside him, “clubbing with boys is such a task. i’d rather go with my girl friends.”
he scoffs, “where are those girl friends now?”
“probably doing something productive with their lives, excuse you,” you sass, kicking him lightly.
otoya chuckles before handing you a shot. “you only got one clean glass so we’re gonna have to share,” he says, thin, green eyes staring into yours lazily.
you down the whole thing before giving it back to him and getting up, “i’m gonna go get dressed and do my make up, okay? wait here.”
“mhm,” he hums, already pouring himself a shot as you walk over and grab your dress before heading to the bathroom.
you slip into a new outfit before taking out your cosmetics bag and starting on your routine. a few minutes later, you hear otoya knock on the door.
“hey, i’m on my third shot already. get outta there,” he says.
“i’m still doing my make up,” you reply, brush gliding against your skin as you blend.
“can’t you do it out here?” he asks impatiently.
“no, i want my mirror.”
you feel his presence fade before he comes back a few seconds later to open the door with the pitcher and the glass in his hands.
“ew, eita. bathroom air,” your face wrinkles as he approaches you, settling the objects down on the sink along with your products.
“just take the shot, man,” he says, offering you the glass.
you reluctantly take it before downing it in one go. good thing your lips aren’t done yet.
he pours another before looking at you in the mirror. “you know that trend on tiktok? i saw a girl doing it, one shot, one step, make up challenge.”
“i’m not doing that.”
“why not? she was buzzed by the time she was done,” he chuckles.
“i’m not tryna throw up five minutes into the club, bro,” you say, continuing your routine as he takes a shot.
otoya shrugs, seeing the point in your logic, “fairs.”
you continue with your make up as otoya continues pouring the shots, the two of you exchanging the glass every now and then.
by the time your fourth shot comes, your body is already warming up as it adjusts to the alcohol content you’re consuming. you don’t know if it’s simply the buzz from the liquor, but you can feel otoya’s gaze on you—it’s different, almost prey-like as he scans your face in the mirror. maybe you were hallucinating, but you could’ve swore he was also checking out your ass as you bent closer to the mirror for small details.
you shake it off, finishing up your mug with lip gloss before turning to the side to face him. “okay, i’m done,” you sigh, closing up the packaging before tidying up.
suddenly, otoya’s slender hand cups your jaw as he forces you to look at him. green eyes captivate yours, making you freeze before leans over and steals a kiss from you.
his tongue is wet as he explores you, and God, is he skilled. no wonder he’s got so many girls after him. he pulls away shortly before diving back in, this time pressing harder as he deepens the contact.
“mmh…” he moans into your mouth, the vibrations spreading throughout your body and going straight to your core.
RING! RING!
otoya’s phone chimes against the slacks of his pockets, and he pulls away to check.
“it’s karasu…” he sighs before going out the bathroom and picking up the call without another word.
you gulp, frozen in place as you try to process what just happened.
your heart races as you breathe, and you turn to the mirror to calm down. you look down at the sink and decide to clean up while you wait.
otoya comes back after a minute or two, leaning against the doorframe as he pokes his head out. “you ready?” he asks casually.
you look at him through the mirror before nodding, grabbing your essentials before heading out to the living room and tossing them inside your purse.
“karasu says they already ordered drinks,” he deadpans, looking into his phone as he types.
“okay…” you nod meekly, slipping into your shoes.
the two of you walk out together to his car. you get in the passenger seat before he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking out.
a few seconds go by in silence before you finally break the tension, “are we going to talk about what happened tonight?”
“what happened?” he asks, and you meet his gaze in the rear view mirror—cold, emotionless. uncaring.
you bite your bottom lip slightly before nodding as you realized what was happening. you gulp, quickly averting your eyes as you stare out the window, blinking your tears away.
the rest of the car ride goes by in silence, save for the sounds of the road and the occasional ding! of otoya’s phone.
the club is packed as you enter, and karasu greets you with a beer in hand as he daps otoya up, then leans in to whisper something in his ear.
you look around for any familiar faces before karasu’s attention shifts over to you as otoya leaves the two of you alone, walking away with purpose.
“hey, nice outfit, man!” he compliments you, a smile on his lips as a hint of red adorns his cheeks.
“thanks, bro,” you smile genuinely as karasu wraps an arm around you.
you and karasu are casual friends—you met him a few months back when otoya introduced the two of you to each other during a night out together.
karasu’s polite, and you don’t really see him messing around with women—not as much as otoya does, anyway, which you like about him. he probably just goes to the club for the vibe and the alcohol, or at least that’s what you think.
he leads to you his group’s table, where a bunch of their other friends are drinking and talking. karasu introduces you, his arm still on your shoulders.
“she’s otoya’s friend,” he says, and the guys all perk up.
“friend?” “ou shi…” “karasu, warn her.”
their voices overlap as you turn your head to look behind you, trying to spot otoya’s hair in a sea of people before you’re pulled back to reality as karasu taps you on the shoulder.
“nah, they’re just friends. tell ‘em,” he chuckles.
“oh, uh… yeah, otoya and i are strictly platonic,” that kiss didn’t feel platonic, “we’ve been friends since grade school,” you say, offering the boys a kind smile before karasu takes a seat and offers you the spot beside him.
karasu hands you a beer from the bucket before sliding the plate of nachos near the two of you as he takes a chip.
the boys around you continue on with their conversations, their voices muffled as you look around, only to spot otoya with a girl.
“hey, karasu? who’s that?” you tap his arm, nodding over to where otoya and the girl are talking.
“huh? oh, uh… i forgot her name. something with an A. otoya’s new girl, i think,” he says, eyes on the pair before looking over at you, “why, you jealous?” he chuckles.
you scoff, playing it cool. “nah, i’m just wondering how long this one’ll last,” you say, and the other boys must’ve overheard your little gossip session as they interject.
“wanna bet?” a guy with yellow and black peek-a-boo hair offers, grinning like a cat as he looks at you.
“you’re on. one week,” you say, holding a finger up. you decide to just ride along with the joke, careful not to expose yourself.
“two,” he replies, setting his drink down before he places a 5,000 yen bill on the table.
“ou shi…” “sir use mode.”
karasu scoffs, manspreading with a smirk beside you as he looks you over, “you can still back out, you know?”
your eyes flit from his to the other guy’s before you place down a 5,000 yen bill of your own. “nah, i know otoya,” you say confidently.
…do you, though?
your stomach turns as you look over to the couple once again before karasu takes both the bills on the table. “alright, i’m holdin’ onto this for safekeeping. i’m otoya’s best man, after all,” he smugs, pocketing the money. “i’ll keep ya both posted, i got your numbers, anyway,” he says, taking a swig.
one of the guys scoff, “goodbye, 10k.”
“hey—!” karasu scolds teasingly, giving the guy a mean side eye.
you try to ease the queasy feeling in your stomach by taking the beer karasu offered you previously and downing it.
“woah,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “slow down. you goin’ through something?”
you gulp, looking away, “something like that…”
karasu chuckles once again before shaking his head. “you wanna dance?” he offers.
you contemplate it for a second, then see otoya and his “new girl” kiss on your peripheral vision.
fuck it.
you take a breath to steady yourself before nodding. “yeah, actually, i’d love that,” you say, turning as you smile towards karasu.
…
the night goes on as karasu and you share a few moments on the dance floor, and for a second, you forget about the churning feeling in your stomach.
“wanna grab a drink?” karasu asks, leaning in to speak directly in your ear.
you nod eagerly as you hold onto his hand, your fingers intertwining as he leads the two of you to the bar.
“hey, excuse me,” he calls the bartender over, “one—“
his words cut off as you press a kiss against his lips, one hand resting against his chest as the other pulls him down from his nape, forcibly deepening the kiss—much to karasu’s joy.
karasu chuckles as he pulls away, eyes scanning your face with a smirk as one hand finds its way to your waist before travelling down your hips, then to your lower back as he pulls you closer and kisses you again.
he tastes like beer, and his lips are a little bit chapped against yours. not like otoya’s, soft and cloudlike and…
“hey.”
the two of you reluctantly pull away to see otoya with a bored expression on his face. he looks over at karasu, then to you.
“i’m taking you home,” he says.
karasu chuckles, hand travelling back to your hip as he squeezes and looks you over, as if waiting for your move.
you gulp, suddenly feeling small under the two men’s gaze.
“you have an early morning tomorrow,” otoya warns, and even karasu recognizes the venom in his tone as he speaks.
you sigh before one of your hands fall down to his arm, giving his bicep a light squeeze. you give him a peck on the cheek before walking over to the exit with otoya, who only spares his best man a striking glance before walking out to follow you.
karasu chuckles by himself before going back to their table.
the ride home is terrifyingly silent before otoya speaks up.
“so… you and karasu,” he says.
you’re looking out the window, hugging your knees to keep your legs warm as your dress fails to cover up your parts. your shoes are long gone, messily discarded on the floor of his car.
“huh? oh, yeah…” is all you can mutter as a response.
“damn,” he says, eyes flickering over to look at you before sighing and keeping his eyes on the road.
“you and… that girl,” you say, trying to keep the conversation going.
“oh, yeah,” he parrots, tone uninterested.
the rest of the car ride goes by with neither one of you talking.
you don’t hear from him again the entire weekend you’re at your parents’.
you come back to your dorm on monday night, laying down on your bed after a few hours of unpacking. you check your chat logs a couple times, trying to think of a conversation starter. you type out a few words before deleting them all and sparing into space as you turn your phone off.
fucking pathetic.
your phone dings, and you eagerly open it to see a notification
…from karasu.
you sigh and read it,
karasu (eita’s friend): hey, i’m dropping by at the club again tonight
karasu (eita’s friend): you down? 👀
the kiss was great—the entire night was great with karasu. but there’s just… something about otoya. something you just… can’t explain.
you gulp.
you: who else is coming?
karasu replies a few seconds later,
karasu (eita’s friend): just us
karasu (eita’s friend): unless you wanna bring friends? i can ask my boys to come if you want
you think for a few seconds, eyes wandering around your room as you tap your lips.
then, you type.
you: eita’s not coming?
karasu (eita’s friend): nah, he said he’s going out with someone
your brows furrow. “someone.” something with an A? you huff before sending karasu a message.
you: okay. bring your friends.
you gently put down your phone before hopping off the bed and fixing yourself up.
it’s still early and the club has yet to hit happy hour, making it easy for you to spot your friends at a table. you all exchange greetings as they offer you nachos and drinks, to which you immediately accept.
20 minutes in and a lot of gossip later, karasu and his boys enter the door. you wave them over and they join you, introducing themselves one by one as your friends all get acquainted.
karasu stays by your side obediently, popping a few chips into his mouth before one of his friends come back with a bucket of beer.
your phone dings as you laugh, buzzed and surrounded with your friends. you must’ve forgotten to turn on dnd. grabbing your device, you open it to see a notification from otoya.
🥷🏻: Sent a picture.
you unlock it, clicking his notification to see what he’d sent.
it’s a meme of robin and starfire sitting together, looking over at the city as the sun sets, paired with a caption that says “how mfs be sitting with they hg after another failed talking stage.”
you scoff.
you: looool
on the other side of town, otoya sits alone in his room, an empty feeling in his chest.
maybe he should’ve gone with karasu and the others. who knows, maybe he could’ve met the love of his life… or the love of his two weeks, anyway. karasu did mention new girls tagging along.
💐: looool
his phone dings with a reply from you.
you haven’t talked in four days, and normally, otoya wouldn’t care. after all, you’re just friends… but something in his guts just won’t calm down.
he’s tried to bury it—his feelings. the moment he pulled away, the moment karasu called, he vowed to never do that again. you were friends. that was that. nothing more, nothing less. it was comfortable set up. you were the only woman in his life who’s stayed despite his flaws and vices. he didn’t want to get into a romance with you, knowing you could leave at any given moment.
at least, as friends, he could hold you down in his life forever. no complications.
so why is typing this out? and why is he sending it instead of deleting it?
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WHEREIN — you and otoya have been friends for a while, but what happens when a simple bottle of gin changes everything between you?
warnings: toxicity, substance use, suggestive scenes, driving under the influence (DO NOT ATTEMPT), angst, avoidance, you’re both red flags, karasu x reader, bachira mention
the comfort of your bed does little to console you as you plop down, mentally and physically exhausted from the long week you’ve suffered. your muscles ache, and your brain feels like a sponge that’s been squeezed one too many times and left discarded and deformed.
DING!
your phone lights up beside you, making you turn your head as you pick it up. not wanting to get up, you reach out and read the notification from your lockscreen.
🥷🏻: karasu wants to go to the club, you coming?
you sigh, too tired to even type out a reply. you bury your face in the sheets as you groan. you don’t know when it started, but ever since meeting karasu, otoya’s been frequenting the clubs more often… or maybe it was the other way around. you’re not sure, nor do you really care. the bottomline is, it’s not good for otoya. well… it’s not like you have any right to say what he does with his life, anyway. it’s just… a little annoying, you suppose, how he flirts with women, discards them, then moves on to the next. as a woman, you feel a little guilty by association whenever you see him pick up another victim.
🥷🏻: i have your loc lol i know you’re home
🥷🏻: i’m On my way!
you don’t bother to check his follow up messages, too busy dozing off to sleep as the warm, familiar air of your dorm room engulfs you.
you find yourself wrapped in your sheets when you wake up. the lights are dimmed a warm hue of yellow—a different setting than the one you fell asleep to. someone’s been in your room.
you quickly sit up and look around, heart beating as you gulp. everything else seems to be in place when you scan the room. getting up, you go to the bathroom with light footsteps and open the door gently.
“fuck—!” otoya jumps as he opens the door at the same time, clearly taken aback at your presence. “don’t do that, bro! you scared me,” he giggles, light breaths of air leaving his lips, his eyes forming two thin lines as he smiles.
you huff, eyeing him up and down sassily. “excuse you? this is my dorm, in case you forgot,” you’re leaning against the doorframe as otoya steps out, pushing his hair back as he walks.
“you got my message?” he asks, sitting down on your couch, his legs spread as if he owned the place, completely ignoring what you’d just said.
you cross your arms before taking a seat on the opposite end of the touch, hoisting your feet in the air before placing them gently against his lap, “yeah, but i’m not in the mood.”
the interior of your studio type dorm is something otoya’s never been a fan of, and he’s never failed to remind you of that. your couch faces your bed, and in between is a glass coffee table and a rug underneath. he loves to tease you about it being a cuck couch.
but if there’s one thing in your dorm that gets his approval, it’s the sliding glass doors beside the couch that leads to the balcony. he looks out as he speaks, his right hand resting atop your calves as his left arm rests on the backrest of the couch.
“me neither, honestly,” he says, and even from a few feet away, you can see the bright stars reflecting off of his eyes. he sighs, “but i already told him we’re coming so get your ass up and get dressed.”
you whine and groan, “bruh, why would you do that?”
“because!” he chuckles, looking at you as he shakes your calves playfully, “i know you need a break, come on. didn’t you say you’re going home for the long weekend?”
“yeah, which is exactly why i need to get some rest! i’m not coming home to my parents sleep deprived!” you reply.
“dude, just let loose for tonight. come on, i know you. when’s the last time you went out?”
“half an hour ago.”
“you know what i mean—when’s the last time you had fun?”
you roll your eyes and huff, arms crossed as you look away to avoid his gaze, “…fine. but only because i don’t think i can stomach my parents for three days straight without having at least a little bit of alcohol beforehand.”
“attagirl,” he smirks as you get up and search in your closet for a decent outfit to wear. “hey, i dropped by the store on my way here. you wanna pregame?” he asks, already opening his messenger bag to take out a bottle of gin and a pack of yakult.
you look back and smile, putting on a bashful pretense of rolling your eyes. “i mean… if you insist…”
otoya laughs at you before heading over to your dorm’s kitchen space and opening the cupboards for a pitcher and some glasses, “this larp, bruh.”
you fish out a skimpy dress from your closet before showing it over to otoya, “hey, what about this?”
he looks you over as he walks back to your couch. “uh, yeah, looks good, man. i mean, i’m not the one wearing it so i don’t really care,” by the time he finishes his statement, he’s already focused elsewhere, his gaze fixated on the drinks as if he were some chemist cooking up something in the lab.
you huff before walking over to the couch and sitting beside him, “clubbing with boys is such a task. i’d rather go with my girl friends.”
he scoffs, “where are those girl friends now?”
“probably doing something productive with their lives, excuse you,” you sass, kicking him lightly.
otoya chuckles before handing you a shot. “you only got one clean glass so we’re gonna have to share,” he says, thin, green eyes staring into yours lazily.
you down the whole thing before giving it back to him and getting up, “i’m gonna go get dressed and do my make up, okay? wait here.”
“mhm,” he hums, already pouring himself a shot as you walk over and grab your dress before heading to the bathroom.
you slip into a new outfit before taking out your cosmetics bag and starting on your routine. a few minutes later, you hear otoya knock on the door.
“hey, i’m on my third shot already. get outta there,” he says.
“i’m still doing my make up,” you reply, brush gliding against your skin as you blend.
“can’t you do it out here?” he asks impatiently.
“no, i want my mirror.”
you feel his presence fade before he comes back a few seconds later to open the door with the pitcher and the glass in his hands.
“ew, eita. bathroom air,” your face wrinkles as he approaches you, settling the objects down on the sink along with your products.
“just take the shot, man,” he says, offering you the glass.
you reluctantly take it before downing it in one go. good thing your lips aren’t done yet.
he pours another before looking at you in the mirror. “you know that trend on tiktok? i saw a girl doing it, one shot, one step, make up challenge.”
“i’m not doing that.”
“why not? she was buzzed by the time she was done,” he chuckles.
“i’m not tryna throw up five minutes into the club, bro,” you say, continuing your routine as he takes a shot.
otoya shrugs, seeing the point in your logic, “fairs.”
you continue with your make up as otoya continues pouring the shots, the two of you exchanging the glass every now and then.
by the time your fourth shot comes, your body is already warming up as it adjusts to the alcohol content you’re consuming. you don’t know if it’s simply the buzz from the liquor, but you can feel otoya’s gaze on you—it’s different, almost prey-like as he scans your face in the mirror. maybe you were hallucinating, but you could’ve swore he was also checking out your ass as you bent closer to the mirror for small details.
you shake it off, finishing up your mug with lip gloss before turning to the side to face him. “okay, i’m done,” you sigh, closing up the packaging before tidying up.
suddenly, otoya’s slender hand cups your jaw as he forces you to look at him. green eyes captivate yours, making you freeze before leans over and steals a kiss from you.
his tongue is wet as he explores you, and God, is he skilled. no wonder he’s got so many girls after him. he pulls away shortly before diving back in, this time pressing harder as he deepens the contact.
“mmh…” he moans into your mouth, the vibrations spreading throughout your body and going straight to your core.
RING! RING!
otoya’s phone chimes against the slacks of his pockets, and he pulls away to check.
“it’s karasu…” he sighs before going out the bathroom and picking up the call without another word.
you gulp, frozen in place as you try to process what just happened.
your heart races as you breathe, and you turn to the mirror to calm down. you look down at the sink and decide to clean up while you wait.
otoya comes back after a minute or two, leaning against the doorframe as he pokes his head out. “you ready?” he asks casually.
you look at him through the mirror before nodding, grabbing your essentials before heading out to the living room and tossing them inside your purse.
“karasu says they already ordered drinks,” he deadpans, looking into his phone as he types.
“okay…” you nod meekly, slipping into your shoes.
the two of you walk out together to his car. you get in the passenger seat before he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking out.
a few seconds go by in silence before you finally break the tension, “are we going to talk about what happened tonight?”
“what happened?” he asks, and you meet his gaze in the rear view mirror—cold, emotionless. uncaring.
you bite your bottom lip slightly before nodding as you realized what was happening. you gulp, quickly averting your eyes as you stare out the window, blinking your tears away.
the rest of the car ride goes by in silence, save for the sounds of the road and the occasional ding! of otoya’s phone.
the club is packed as you enter, and karasu greets you with a beer in hand as he daps otoya up, then leans in to whisper something in his ear.
you look around for any familiar faces before karasu’s attention shifts over to you as otoya leaves the two of you alone, walking away with purpose.
“hey, nice outfit, man!” he compliments you, a smile on his lips as a hint of red adorns his cheeks.
“thanks, bro,” you smile genuinely as karasu wraps an arm around you.
you and karasu are casual friends—you met him a few months back when otoya introduced the two of you to each other during a night out together.
karasu’s polite, and you don’t really see him messing around with women—not as much as otoya does, anyway, which you like about him. he probably just goes to the club for the vibe and the alcohol, or at least that’s what you think.
he leads to you his group’s table, where a bunch of their other friends are drinking and talking. karasu introduces you, his arm still on your shoulders.
“she’s otoya’s friend,” he says, and the guys all perk up.
“friend?” “ou shi…” “karasu, warn her.”
their voices overlap as you turn your head to look behind you, trying to spot otoya’s hair in a sea of people before you’re pulled back to reality as karasu taps you on the shoulder.
“nah, they’re just friends. tell ‘em,” he chuckles.
“oh, uh… yeah, otoya and i are strictly platonic,” that kiss didn’t feel platonic, “we’ve been friends since grade school,” you say, offering the boys a kind smile before karasu takes a seat and offers you the spot beside him.
karasu hands you a beer from the bucket before sliding the plate of nachos near the two of you as he takes a chip.
the boys around you continue on with their conversations, their voices muffled as you look around, only to spot otoya with a girl.
“hey, karasu? who’s that?” you tap his arm, nodding over to where otoya and the girl are talking.
“huh? oh, uh… i forgot her name. something with an A. otoya’s new girl, i think,” he says, eyes on the pair before looking over at you, “why, you jealous?” he chuckles.
you scoff, playing it cool. “nah, i’m just wondering how long this one’ll last,” you say, and the other boys must’ve overheard your little gossip session as they interject.
“wanna bet?” a guy with yellow and black peek-a-boo hair offers, grinning like a cat as he looks at you.
“you’re on. one week,” you say, holding a finger up. you decide to just ride along with the joke, careful not to expose yourself.
“two,” he replies, setting his drink down before he places a 5,000 yen bill on the table.
“ou shi…” “sir use mode.”
karasu scoffs, manspreading with a smirk beside you as he looks you over, “you can still back out, you know?”
your eyes flit from his to the other guy’s before you place down a 5,000 yen bill of your own. “nah, i know otoya,” you say confidently.
…do you, though?
your stomach turns as you look over to the couple once again before karasu takes both the bills on the table. “alright, i’m holdin’ onto this for safekeeping. i’m otoya’s best man, after all,” he smugs, pocketing the money. “i’ll keep ya both posted, i got your numbers, anyway,” he says, taking a swig.
one of the guys scoff, “goodbye, 10k.”
“hey—!” karasu scolds teasingly, giving the guy a mean side eye.
you try to ease the queasy feeling in your stomach by taking the beer karasu offered you previously and downing it.
“woah,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “slow down. you goin’ through something?”
you gulp, looking away, “something like that…”
karasu chuckles once again before shaking his head. “you wanna dance?” he offers.
you contemplate it for a second, then see otoya and his “new girl” kiss on your peripheral vision.
fuck it.
you take a breath to steady yourself before nodding. “yeah, actually, i’d love that,” you say, turning as you smile towards karasu.
…
the night goes on as karasu and you share a few moments on the dance floor, and for a second, you forget about the churning feeling in your stomach.
“wanna grab a drink?” karasu asks, leaning in to speak directly in your ear.
you nod eagerly as you hold onto his hand, your fingers intertwining as he leads the two of you to the bar.
“hey, excuse me,” he calls the bartender over, “one—“
his words cut off as you press a kiss against his lips, one hand resting against his chest as the other pulls him down from his nape, forcibly deepening the kiss—much to karasu’s joy.
karasu chuckles as he pulls away, eyes scanning your face with a smirk as one hand finds its way to your waist before travelling down your hips, then to your lower back as he pulls you closer and kisses you again.
he tastes like beer, and his lips are a little bit chapped against yours. not like otoya’s, soft and cloudlike and…
“hey.”
the two of you reluctantly pull away to see otoya with a bored expression on his face. he looks over at karasu, then to you.
“i’m taking you home,” he says.
karasu chuckles, hand travelling back to your hip as he squeezes and looks you over, as if waiting for your move.
you gulp, suddenly feeling small under the two men’s gaze.
“you have an early morning tomorrow,” otoya warns, and even karasu recognizes the venom in his tone as he speaks.
you sigh before one of your hands fall down to his arm, giving his bicep a light squeeze. you give him a peck on the cheek before walking over to the exit with otoya, who only spares his best man a striking glance before walking out to follow you.
karasu chuckles by himself before going back to their table.
the ride home is terrifyingly silent before otoya speaks up.
“so… you and karasu,” he says.
you’re looking out the window, hugging your knees to keep your legs warm as your dress fails to cover up your parts. your shoes are long gone, messily discarded on the floor of his car.
“huh? oh, yeah…” is all you can mutter as a response.
“damn,” he says, eyes flickering over to look at you before sighing and keeping his eyes on the road.
“you and… that girl,” you say, trying to keep the conversation going.
“oh, yeah,” he parrots, tone uninterested.
the rest of the car ride goes by with neither one of you talking.
you don’t hear from him again the entire weekend you’re at your parents’.
you come back to your dorm on monday night, laying down on your bed after a few hours of unpacking. you check your chat logs a couple times, trying to think of a conversation starter. you type out a few words before deleting them all and staring into space as you turn your phone off.
fucking pathetic.
your phone dings, and you eagerly open it to see a notification
…from karasu.
you sigh and read it,
karasu (eita’s friend): hey, i’m dropping by at the club again tonight
karasu (eita’s friend): you down? 👀
the kiss was great—the entire night was great with karasu. but there’s just… something about otoya. something you just… can’t explain.
you gulp.
you: who else is coming?
karasu replies a few seconds later,
karasu (eita’s friend): just us
karasu (eita’s friend): unless you wanna bring friends? i can ask my boys to come if you want
you think for a few seconds, eyes wandering around your room as you tap your lips.
then, you type.
you: eita’s not coming?
karasu (eita’s friend): nah, he said he’s going out with someone
your brows furrow. “someone.” something with an A? you huff before sending karasu a message.
you: okay. bring your friends.
you gently put down your phone before hopping off the bed and fixing yourself up.
it’s still early and the club has yet to hit happy hour, making it easy for you to spot your friends at a table. you all exchange greetings as they offer you nachos and drinks, to which you immediately accept.
20 minutes in and a lot of gossip later, karasu and his boys enter the door. you wave them over and they join you, introducing themselves one by one as your friends all get acquainted.
karasu stays by your side obediently, popping a few chips into his mouth before one of his friends come back with a bucket of beer.
your phone dings as you laugh, buzzed and surrounded with your friends. you must’ve forgotten to turn on dnd. grabbing your device, you open it to see a notification from otoya.
🥷🏻 sent a picture.
you unlock it, clicking his notification to see what he’d sent.
it’s a meme of robin and starfire sitting together, looking over at the city as the sun sets, paired with a caption that says “how mfs be sitting with they hg after another failed talking stage.”
you scoff.
you: looool
on the other side of town, otoya sits alone in his room, an empty feeling in his chest.
maybe he should’ve gone with karasu and the others. who knows, maybe he could’ve met the love of his life… or the love of his two weeks, anyway. karasu did mention new girls tagging along.
💐: looool
his phone dings with a reply from you.
you haven’t talked in four days, and normally, otoya wouldn’t care. after all, you’re just friends… but something in his guts just won’t calm down.
he’s tried to bury it—his feelings. the moment he pulled away, the moment karasu called, he vowed to never do that again. you were friends. that was that. nothing more, nothing less. it was comfortable set up. you were the only woman in his life who’s stayed despite his flaws and vices. he didn’t want to get into a romance with you, knowing you could leave at any given moment.
at least, as friends, he could hold you down in his life forever. no complications.
so why is he typing this out? and why is he sending it instead of deleting it?
disclaimer: i am in no way romanticizing mental illnesses or psychiatric facilities. the events below are strictly fictional and are in no way a reflection of life inside mental institutions. this story is not entirely logical as i have no first hand experience in a mental hospital, and the relationship itself contains themes of codependency, limerence, and toxicity. this is purely for entertainment purposes and is to be treated as such.
warning: this story contains suggestive dialogue + a skippable nsfw scene.
you’re minding your business at the courtyard when a tan man with ombre hair approaches you.
“hey there, beautiful. my name’s ryusei.”
“shut the fuck up, i’m not here to make friends,” you say, flipping through another page in your book.
“oh yeah, i love ‘em feisty!” his pupils practically form into hearts as he takes a seat next to you, making you sigh heavily.
“what are you in for, baby? hold on, lemme guess…” he holds up a finger as you stare at him, his eyes scanning you. “it can’t be an eating disorder ‘cause that ass is fat!” he points over at you, hooting like a maniac in an attempt to hype himself up.
“can you leave me alone, pink tips?” you scowl.
“oh, i got a pink tip for you, alright,” he smirks, nodding to himself proudly before you smack him with a book.
“nurse!” you yell out.
“you smacked me and you’re snitching?!” he says, looking at you with sad puppy dog eyes as the nurses pull you two apart.
the next time you see him is at the cafeteria 2 days later. you’re sitting alone, picking at your food as you flip through the pages of your book.
shidou approaches you yet again, and his grin is even bigger than the last time you met.
“heeeeey, it’s ms. moody!” he hollers as he claps, and by the looks of it, it seems like the rest of the ward is used to his antics seeing as how none of them react.
he takes the seat across from you before putting his hands up in mock surrender. “yo, i come in peace,” he says, and there’s really no other way to describe his grin except for resembling that of a roblox smirk. or maybe that one kevin hart meme?
you glare at him, the insults are already brewing up in your mind before you’re pulled away as he offers you a handshake. “can we start over? i’m shidou. i’ve been here a while for, uh, high manic symptoms or whatever.”
you stare at his coarse hand, your brows furrowing even harder before your eyes flit up to meet his.
“i told you already, i’m not interested,” you huff, rolling your eyes before stuffing your face with food in an attempt to shut him off.
“hey, man, i get it,” he chuckles, “aspd? antisocial personality disorder, yeah? did i get it right?” he smiles, chasing your gaze as he leans his head down to meet the table. “yanno, ego over there also has aspd,” he whispers, looking at the next table over where a man with an ugly ass bowl cut and even uglier glasses sits alone, eyes completely lacking any sort of light. “…sheesh. stay away from him, though, a’right?”
“what the fuck is wrong with you? can’t you leave people alone? stop trying to fucking diagnose me, you psycho,” you bark, finally looking him in the eyes with a disgusted face.
but shidou’s not one to give up easily. “takes one to know one! literally,” he giggles, sitting up properly as he brings his palms up and rests his chin against them, “come on, gorgeous. lighten up. ‘m not gonna hurt ya.”
“i will,” you say before getting up and grabbing your book.
“hey, hey—!” he yells, hands up and ready to stop you as he mirrors your movements and gets up as well, “let’s take this elsewhere!” he chuckles nerviously.
“get the fuck away from me! don’t make me tell you again!”
“fuck, i’m so hard right now…” he giggles enthusiastically with his entire chest, falling on the floor as he tries to crawl away.
the nurses immediately come to your aid, pulling the two of you aside.
“you can’t go around throwing tantrums like that,” the psychologist says gently, sitting calmly in her chair. “it’s only your first week here and you’ve already had two outbursts.”
you sigh, looking out at the window to avoid her gaze. you despise her. you didn’t even bother learning her name beforehand, and if you did, you sure as hell don’t care enough to try and remember it.
“what is it that’s making you angry?” she asks, and it takes everything in you to hold back from answering her with a simple “you,” but you opt for staring into her eyes instead, thinking thoughts that placed you in the very position you’re in right now—thoughts you should definitely not be having.
a couple seconds go by with you simply glaring daggers at her as she looks at you calmly, and honestly? that calm ass, zen ass, relaxed look on her face makes you all the angrier.
“i can’t help you if you don’t allow me to.”
God knows you’ve heard that line too many times before.
she sighs, shaking her head softly before jotting down something in her journal. “alright, i’m assigning you a week in the isolation unit. i don’t think it’s safe for you to be roaming around freely,” she says, not even bothering to look you in the eyes as she speaks, “you understand, right? this is what’s best for everyone involved, including shidou. you can’t keep threatening or hurting him.”
her eyes meet yours as she says that last part. shortly after, she calls the nurse over and you’re guided to a white, padded room before the nurse locks you up inside.
the minute the nurses let you go, you catch sight of that antenna-haired freak again. he’s leaning on his room’s doorframe, smirking to himself before pushing his body off and approaching you.
“can’t believe you’d spend a week in the iso unit just to edge me, baby,” he says casually.
“…edge you?” you repeat, side eyeing him with a sour look on your face.
“we were in the middle of foreplay before we got interrupted!” he pouted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders before whispering, “whatddya say we pick up where we left off?”
you brush him off, huffing as his arm returns back to his side. “is this how they taught you to cope?” you cross your arms, eyeing him up and down condescendingly.
“oh, don’t look at me that way, babe. i got blue balls, i’ll cum right now.”
“you are fucking disgusting,” you deadpan, and at this point, you’re not even sure if he’s messing with you or not. you uncross your arms and begin to walk away, until you hear shidou call after you.
“hate to see you go but i love to watch you leave!”
“shidou!” / “no, i’m hallucinating again—! awh, come on, man!”
“hey,” he slides beside you, sitting as you zone out.
you blink a couple times, still staring into the distance as your thoughts race.
“you good?” he asks, genuine concern laced in his tone. shidou chases after your eyes again, leaning his head in the direction of your gaze to force you to look at him.
“they’re letting me go.”
your heartbeat quickens. it seems surreal, and despite being in disbelief about it at first, saying out loud only hits you harder.
“what? why?” he asks, getting off the sofa and kneeling in front of you.
tears pool in your waterline as you try to blink them away. you breathe a deep, shaky sigh as you feel your throat tighten, “behavioral issues.”
“oh, shit,” shidou’s eyes widen for a split-second, clearlt taken aback, “‘s it ‘cause of me?”
“no, i…” you breathe again, looking down as you bring your two knees up to your chest, your hands balled into fists, “…i’ve had… altercations with other patients. i get easily irritated, so…”
“what, you beat someone up?”
“just cussed them out. possibly threatened them…”
“damn. should’ve been me,” he shakes his head.
you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. of course he wouldn’t take this seriously. what were you even thinking, opening up to him?
“shit, no, i didn’t…” his voice trails, making you look at him. “i didn’t mean to be insensitive, shit, ‘m sorry, man.”
shidou looks away, looking for the right words to verbalize how he feels before bringing his hands up to your knees. his hands are coarse, but his touch is gentle as he draws circles with his thumbs, “so, where you off to?”
you sigh again, this time collecting yourself as you look around the room to avoid eye contact, “i don’t know. i think they were thinking of transferring me to a different unit or something. that’s what i could piece together from the scraps i heard, anyway.”
shidou nods, still kneeling in front of you. he softly grabs your ankles and places your soles against the marble floor before placing his chin against them, not exactly knowing how to comfort people.
“you look like a fucking puppy,” you snark.
“i’d let you put a leash on me any day.”
you bite the inside of your cheek to hold yourself back from laughing, but ultimately fail as a chuckle escapes you.
shidou smirks before following and laughing in tune with you.
“you are so fucking weird, dude,” you say.
“yeah, i know.”
…
“hey, yanno… i heard what that nutjob told you before she admitted you to the isolation room,” he confesses, the air strangely calm as he speaks.
“how much did you hear?” you ask.
“everythin’. from your name to…”
“including my full name?”
“yeah.”
“damn,” you nod slowly.
“for what it’s worth… i don’t really care if you threaten or hurt me,” he says.
you scoff, looking down on him, “yeah, because you’re a kinky little masochist.”
shidou laughs wholeheartedly. “i mean, yeah but… isn’t that what makes this so great?”
you pause, “this?”
“this,” he says, pointing to the two of you, “if you need to be mean, be mean to me.”
your brows furrow, and your chest tightens just a little. “why are you… why are you so adamant on this?” you ask, trying to make sense of it all.
shidou’s eyes fall, clearly having a hard time verbalizing his feelings. “i… i don’t know,” he says, eyes distant, “i just… am.”
you gulp, unable to say anything.
“say, you wanna run away with me?” pink eyes stare into yours as he asks, tone completely dead and casual.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen shidou look this serious before.
the next day, you’re awoken by a fire alarm going off. footsteps rush outside your door as a defeaning bell rings through the halls.
you get up, standing with your hand against your doorframe as you watch patients run past you like you’re invisible. your eyes scan the crowd. where the fuck are the nurses..?
an arm grabs you—a touch so rough, it’s for sure to leave a bruise. you try to pry away until you see who it is.
shidou laughs maniacally as he rushes you out the kitchen door. everyone else uses the fire exit, the front doors, and even the ones out back.
“ahh, there’s so much adrenaline pumping in my body!” he laughs before stopping you in his tracks and covering his mouth.
you’re still in a state of daze and confusion, brain still in the middle of processing what’s currently happening to you right now.
“shiiiiit, empty guard post! jackpot!” he snickers, hand gripping onto your arm yet again before running off, “he must be helping the crowd out front! we’re lucky!”
“shidou, are you sane?!” you question, breaking free from his grip as you swat his hand away. “did you set the fucking fire alarm off? how did you even manage that?!”
shidou looks at you, perplexed as if you had just told him the sky was green. “…huh?”
“i didn’t even fucking say yes to running off with you!”
oh.
he hadn’t thought of this yet—hadn’t even considered you not wanting to leave. but you just looked so down back then, so utterly helpless.
hey, how long as it been since he’s slept? shidou doesn’t even remember…
you turn your head around in a flash when you hear running footsteps. they’re light, which means whoever’s coming is still a good distance away.
your eyes flit from the open kitchen door you’d walked out of, to the parking lot a few steps away. if you made a run for it now, you’d probably be able to hide and successfully escape, but…
ah, fuck it. fucking psychotic ass, crazy bug.
you take shidou by the arm and drag him to the parking lot behind one of the vehicles. though the lot is visible and relatively close to the front entrance, the huge van you managed to duck behind does a great job at hiding you.
you look back to the man beside you, who’s currently still in a state of shock.
“shidou!” you whisper-yell, “snap out of it!”
shidou doesn’t budge, his form lifeless as if he had just been bitten by frostbite.
you kneel in front of him before slapping him in the face. “hey, fucking focus! don’t you have a plan?”
shidou blinks a couple times, registering your words.
“…plan?”
“yes, a fucking plan! don’t tell me you did all this shit on a whim?”
“uuuhh…”
you sob, covering your mouth quickly to stop yourself before sighing a shaky breath.
“fuuuuck my life.”
you don’t know how, but you managed to secure a cheap motel room with shidou a few miles away after picking up a random nurse’s lost wallet in the parking lot.
he’s already back to his usual self—the usual shidou you know, anyway. turns out all he needed was a stroke of luck, and after finding the lost wallet, he’s already back on his bullshit.
shidou is laying flat on the bed in a starfish position as you come out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your figure. when he notices you, he chuckles an amused laugh before sitting up.
“yanno, all that escaping got me a little hard… the adrenaline?” he says, legs spread, staring at your backside.
“i think you need to calm down. the cops’ll be looking for us,” you deadpan, trying to dodge any of his attempts at romance. you’d be damned if you took advantage of a man that’s clearly delirious.
shidou sighs and stands up before walking over to you slowly as you brush your hair. “where’re your clothes?” he asks before pressing against you and nuzzling into your neck.
“i… they’re hung in the bathroom. i washed them,” you say, tensing up a little under his touch.
shidou takes your jaw gently in his hands before guiding you to look at him, pink eyes staring softly into yours. his pupils are dilated, and there are hints of red in his cheeks and on his ears.
shidou’s breathing is laboured.
18+, feel free to skip.
you lay under the sheets with shidou, your heart racing as he lays on his stomach, catching up on breathing beside you.
“…mdd,” you say, staring at the ceiling.
shidou blinks a couple times in your direction.
“major depressive disorder,” you blink, trying to ground yourself back to earth as you sigh a shaky breath, “i was checked in by my coach after i… i had an outburst at practice and started threatening my teammates.”
you sit up, dragging the blanket with you as a cover up for your chest.
“but i just…” you breathe, feeling sobs come through, “it was the only thing keeping me going, that’s why i…” tears stream down your face as you hyperventilate, trying to explain yourself to him.
you’ve never opened up to a therapist like this before. you’ve never cried in front of them. and yet, in this moment, you feel a strange wave of emotions as your chest caves in. you’re overwhelmed, and there’s a strong urge to explain yourself to shidou for reasons you don’t even necessarily understand.
“i just wanted them to take it as seriously as i did… i didn’t mean to hurt…”
“hey, hey…” shidou sits up, placing a hand against your back as you bury your face in your hands.
“it was my lifeline…”
shidou gulps, not really knowing what to say.
“and they took it away…”
shidou sighs, wrapping an arm around you as he brings your shaking body to his chest.
after a few more sobs, you begin to calm down. you’re stable enough to pull away from him, your eyelashes glistening wet from the tears as the tip of your nose and cheeks redden.
“i didn’t mean to a bitch to you, i just… i thought i was doing you a favor,” you say, not daring to meet his eyes. “i hurt people who get too close to me.”
shidou can’t help but laugh. scratching the back of his neck, he speaks, “remember when you asked why i was so adamant about you?”
you nod meekly, “is it because you’re a horndog?”
he chuckles, “close. but eh…” he trails, touching his chin as if to think, “i think i like girls whose misery you can sense. ya feel?”
you furrow your brows, not really understanding as you look at him.
he catches your gaze and shakes his head, “i mean, like… girls who’ve been through a lot. crazy bitches.”
“so you’re saying i’m fucking crazy?”
“well, aren’t you?” he laughs.
…
you feel a sense of rage rush through you, and before you know it, you’re bashing his head against the headboard.
shidou yells as you let go, blood running down his head and staining his blonde hair. “what the fuck—?!”
“don’t fucking patronize me!” you yell, getting off the bed and taking the blanket with you. “you’re such an asshole! you’re the crazy one!”
“you just bashed my fucking head in!” he says, blood on his hands as he tries to stop the bleeding. he holds his free hand down the blanket to cover himself up, stopping you from taking the entire thing altogether.
“are you seriously hard right now?”
“you know i’m a masochist!”
“ryusei, you are the worst fucking person i’ve ever met! i never should’ve gotten involved with you!”
“i fucking hate you too, you crazy bitch!” he scoffs, blushing as he tugs the blanket down.
“did you just get harder?”
“stop looking at my cock, bro!”
“i am not your fucking bro!”
you dive into the bed again before bashing his head a second time, making more blood drip out before you rush to the bathroom and get your clothes.
“fuck, i’m leakin’…” you hear him say, and you’re not sure which head he’s talking about right now, but you don’t really care. you need to get out of here.
you quickly get dressed and as you’re putting on your top, you hear sirens outside. your eyes widen as you unlock the door and peek out, only to be met with the sight of the police on your window as they peek in.
shidou stiffens before making eye contact with you and laughing before the cops knock on your door.
“excuse me? we’ve gotten reports of shouting and possible violence in here. everything okay in there?”
fuck, the motel owner must’ve called them. stupid fucking snitch!
“we know you’re there. please come out, we’re not going to hurt you.”
“um, just a minute!” you yell, quickly putting your top on and running over to the door. “cover up, you whore!” you whisper-yell as you walk past shidou, who’s smiling way too much.
“we’re about to get busted and you’re fucking enjoying this?” you snark, hand on the doorknob.
“oh, i’m about to bust, alright.”
you find yourself at a different psych ward a day later, under 24/7 surveillance with a nurse on your tail wherever you went and a security system tighter than a bank’s.
you sigh, bored out of your mind until you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“baaaaaby!”
how and why the fuck are you in the same ward?!
you turn around to see shidou and his nurse approaching you, placing a hand on your hip as he nuzzles against your neck.
“that’s not allowed,” and you can’t tell if it’s from your nurse or his, but either way, they don’t really do anything to separate you.
“hey, yanno, they filed your case under domestic violence,” shidou says, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes, “that mean what i think it means?”
“it means you need to get the fuck away from me.”
“what are we?”
@theappleinpineapple @hadijjj @1cckedheart @slipkn000t @cemeterysai @brattoru @username3215 yay lmk if you want more ☺️
nagi seishiro is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick.
he whines softly beside you, limbs tangled and lost in yours, and at this point, you don’t know where he ends where and you begin.
“sei?” you call out, rubbing your eyes open.
nagi hums in response, nuzzling further into you.
“you’re hot, baby. are you…” you turn and face him in bed, holding up the back of your hand against his neck, “you feeling okay?”
nagi shakes his head beside you, and you sit up before brushing your hair aside. you look at him, his long arms wrapped around your legs before you sigh and ruffle his hair.
“headache…” he mutters against the pillows, and he looks so uncharacteristically soft for a 6’-something guy that you can’t help your heart from aching just a little.
“i’ll get a thermometer and some pills, okay?” you say, gently pushing off his arm.
“stay.”
nagi’s arm locks you down, his months work of training finally paying off as his muscles pop out.
“baby—“
“just go back to sleep…” he grumbles, and you can practically hear his pout from his tone alone, “don’twantyoutogo…”
“but sei, you said it yourself. you don’t feel so good,”
“feel much better with you around… not gone…”
“you’d feel better with meds,” you deadpan.
“i’d feel better asleep,” he answers, and thank God he’s sick right now or you would’ve smacked him for talking back.
you sigh, knowing this conversation isn’t going anywhere.
and nagi must’ve thought the same by the way he says, “no fighting, ‘s not good for the baby…”
𑣲𝄞 post match series ft. atsumu ,,, bokuto ,,, ushijima .ᐟ.ᐟ cuddles with tsukishima + how he shows his love .☘︎ ݁˖. confessing to ushijima 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 sick mornings with kita ✶⋆.˚ unethical life hacks with osamu 𖦹 gamer boyfriend kenma ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 your post break up nights without tsukishima
yearner boy yuji 𓏲ּ𝄢
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ lazy mornings ,,, sick mornings &&& smooth talker nagi ･ ༝ ･ scary dog privilege shidou ⋆˚꩜｡ tsundere rinnn + freeballing engagements 𝜗ৎ nagi compilation cus i love him ⋆˚࿔ 2:54 am bachira ͙͘͡★ bachira compilation cus i also love him
full fics
── .✦ what’s left of you | jjk
WHEREIN — you reminisce the love story between you and nanami kento
── .✦ crazy for you & crazy for you ii | bllk
WHEREIN — you catch the eye of one of your fellow psych ward patients, shidou ryusei, and eventually run away together!
── .✦ butterflies | bllk
WHEREIN — you and otoya have been friends for a while, but what happens when a simple bottle of gin changes everything between you?
nagi seishiro doesn’t put any effort into your relationship at all.
he doesn’t take you on out on dates, nor does he give you the princess treatment. if anything, he’s the princess in this relationship.
but if you’re going to be honest… that might be exactly why you’re so in love with him. nagi seishiro is lazy and effortless, yes, and he carries that in everything he does, including loving.
so when you come over with food and try to tease him by asking, “what’s the magic word, baby?” he frowns and groans, and you expect him to whine out a “please,” but what escapes his lips are words sweeter than the melted mcflurry in the bag…
“i love you.”
how could you resist? and to make it sweeter, of course it’s his first time saying that. you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling as you sit down beside him, finally opening the bag. “feed me?” he pleads, and you can’t tell if it ruins the moment completely or serves as the cherry on top.
and like that time when he hears you on the phone talking with a friend.
“being a model is living life on easy mode, ugh. i wish i was model pretty,” you say absentmindedly, looking at your nails.
nagi’s head is laid down on your lap, and as you finish speaking, he lifts his head to look at you, “you’re seishiro pretty, though.”
yeah, you did not catch a word your friend said after that.
or when you got jealous after seeing him with a girl from his high school, who happened to bump into him on his way home from training. as you look at the two of them talking, a boiling rage consumes you entirely.
you scold him, telling him that it was rude to keep you waiting and that the girl was absolutely way too giddy for this interaction to not have any romantic undertones.
“i’ll just never speak to her again, then,” he mumbles, face halfway buried in his pillow.
you sigh deeply, anger bubbling up even more until you turn to see his face completely blank, “wait, you’re serious?”
“yeah. i already blocked her on everything. can we stop fighting now? it’s such a hassle…”
BONUS: “i don’t know why you insist on fighting with me all the time. you know i’ll just do whatever you want, you don’t gotta argue… :x”
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you’re minding your business at the courtyard when a tan man with ombre hair approaches you.
“hey there, beautiful. my name’s ryusei.”
“shut the fuck up, i’m not here to make friends,” you say, flipping through another page in your book.
“oh yeah, i love ‘em feisty!” his pupils practically form into hearts as he takes a seat next to you, making you sigh heavily. “what are you in for, baby? hold on, lemme guess…” he holds up a finger as you stare at him, his eyes scanning you. “it can’t be an eating disorder ‘cause that ass is fat!” he points over at you, hooting like a maniac in an attempt to hype himself up.
“can you leave me alone, pink tips?” you scowl.
“oh, i got a pink tip for you, alright,” he smirks, nodding to himself proudly before you smack him with a book.
“nurse!” you yell out.
“you smacked me and you’re snitching?!” he says, looking at you with sad puppy dog eyes as the nurses pull you two apart.
if there’s one thing nagi seishiro loves, it’s you. if there are two things nagi seishiro loves, it’s you and lazy sunday mornings.
you had slept over at his place after heavy rain started to pour mercilessly last night, leaving you stuck in your boyfriend’s aprtment. today, though, you were greeted good morning by the rays of sunshine illuminating your face, coming in through nagi’s window.
you shift in bed, making the sleeping figure beside you groan and rub his eyes before pulling you further into his arms.
“hey, stop moving…” he mutters, burying his face on your neck.
“nagi, i have to get up.”
“no,” he cages you in, arms working overtime to keep you wrapped up beside him, “it’s still early, you can get up later.”
“i have so much to do, baby. i have to get home,” you whine, gently caressing his arm in an attempt to butter him up.
“you are home.”
“nagi…” you scold, looking over at him.
nagi whines, reluctantly waking up to look up at you with puppy dog eyes. his brows are furrowed ever so slightly, and he’s pouting as his eyes flit from your eyes to your lips.
you don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose.
“…fine,” you huff, caving before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
nagi smiles triumphantly, taking your hand gently before pressing a kiss on your knuckles. then, he proceeds to place your hand on the crown of his head before nuzzling into your neck.
“such a baby,” you tease, massaging his head as you rake your nails through his scalp.
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