#I saw I drew more of their post-timeskip look than when they were in school which boooo

[ptanalo]

They are technically high school sweethearts

[redriotdynamite]

You Betrayed Me ~ Shoto x Reader

I know this is another sad one. But, it was in my drafts and I was going to post it but forgot lol. I hope you guys like it. ~ Lee

TW:

Breakup

Angst

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

That you’d talk to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

I always felt like something was going on between them. He always seemed a little too close to her. The first time I met her, I was instantly jealous. She was a hero just like him with an amazing quirk. But that’s not what drew him towards her. Her confidence and her beautiful features are what won him over.

“We’re just friends. Nothing more.”

Just friends, my ass. It may have started out that way, but I should’ve known. They graduated from the same hero school. They fought alongside each other. They even patrolled together sometimes. I tried not to think much of it at first, but now it’s all so clear to me what was going on between them this whole time.

You betrayed me

And I know that you’ll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt

You’d talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worse

But that didn’t matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn’t cheat

But you’re still a traitor

We hadn’t even been broken up for that long. They became the new It-Couple. Their faces were plastered on every magazine and billboard in Tokyo. Everywhere I went, all I saw was them. Nobody knew that Shoto and I dated because he wanted to keep his love life private, but it’s real fucking funny seeing him on the billboards with his new girlfriend. It was like a knife in the heart. Was I not good enough or pretty enough to show off? Was it because I didn’t have a similar background as him? He said that he kept our relationship private to protect me from the press and pyscho fans.

I wanted people to know about us. I wanted him to show pride in his relationship with me. When the tabloids started speculating that they were more than friends, Shoto did his best to avoid the prying questions from the journalists. But, it eventually got to the point where he accidentally made it seem like they were more than friends. He told me that they would be over it by next week. He was wrong.

The press and fans ate it up. He kept reassuring me that everything would eventually blow over, and to not worry. The more the press ate it up, the more they were asked to do interviews together and photoshoots. They both confirmed that they were just friends, but people still thought they were together. Every entertainment outlet was posting stories about them. Fan accounts were made about them. “TodoMomo” was their ship name.

I felt increasingly jealous of her by the second. Shoto did his best to calm my nerves, but I could feel him pull away. And when we called it quits, I wake up to find out that Shoto Todoroki, the fire and ice hero, and Momo Yaoyorozu, the creation hero are officially dating. My heart shattered into a million pieces. That could’ve been me. Why couldn’t that be us? Why am I made to feel like I a dirty little secret? I loved him so much. I wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. I wanted him to care more about me, about us, about our relationship. I planned on building a life with Shoto and within a second and a some angry words thrown at each other, it was over.

Now you bring her around

Just to shut me down

Show her off like she’s a new trophy

And I know if you were true

There’s no damn way that you

Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

He destroyed me. After finding out about them dating, I locked myself away. I stopped answering my friends’ worried calls. They all knew how I felt about the situation. They even made it a point to talk to him about it. But I guess it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth fighting for.

When I finally got the courage to start going out again, and being with my friends, he had to be there to shove her in my face. I had seen them patrol together, holding hands being so in love. There were times he knew that I was staring at them. He would kiss Momo passionately or flirt with her just to spite me. Apparently, it was my fault that things ended so badly between Shoto and I. Something that was supposed to be an innocent friendship between two friends and colleagues turned into something more. Every time he had spent too much time out, or didn’t call me before he got off or call to say he was going to be late, I worried. I worried if he was okay. What if he got hurt? What if he was being rushed to the hospital right now? But worst of all, I started to worry that he was out with Momo.

Ain’t it funny?

Remember I brought her up

And you told me I was paranoid

Yeah, okay, he’s a Pro-Hero. I expected him to stay out late or all night. But we established that he needed to let me know somehow, so that I wouldn’t worry. When he started pulling away from me, I had asked countless times if there was something going on between him and Momo. He always denied it, and told me that I was fretting over nothing.

You betrayed me

And I know that you’ll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt

You’d talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn’t matter

I was there for him since the beginning of his hero career. I met his parents. I met his brother and sister. I was the one that got him to open up more to me, his family and friends. It was like pulling teeth in the beginning. There were some rough patches, but we made it through. I thought we would make it through this bump in the road, but instead we crashed. I loved him so much through everything. We had even talked about marriage and kids. I was prepared for a life with Shoto. But, all of that doesn’t mean shit now. He is with Momo and I am left to pick up the pieces.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

When she’s sleeping in the bed we made

Don’t you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

‘Cause I know that you’ll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt

You’d talk to her

When we were together

You gave me your word

But that didn’t matter

~Timeskip~

As I watch Shoto get on one knee and propose to Momo, it takes everything in me to not scream and beg for him to not go through with it. That was supposed to be me. I was supposed to marry him. He promised me. It doesn’t help that I’m still in love with him. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if I didn’t care so much, but I can’t help it. The crowd cheers as they surround the couple.

Shoto and I make eye contact for a moment. He looks so happy. I can’t take that away from him. I guess it’s real and not a farce. For a second, I see a guilty glint in his eyes before it’s masked by his overwhelming happiness of his engagement. The tears are flowing freely down my face now. It hurts. It hurts so much.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you…

[waka-chan-out]

Ballroom Dancing

(Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader)

I wrote a Tsukishima dance fic and I’m here to make it everyone’s problem

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 4.4k

content warning: SMUT, semi-public sex, degredation, taunting because he’s a little shit, brat!reader, oral (m. recieving), hair pulling, fingering, alcohol consumption (nothing crazy), slight orgasm denial, light choking

also featuring: kuroo and kenma

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” you said, turning into your friend as you scanned the huge ballroom.

“What do you mean? You look great.”

“I know I look great, Tetsu, but I still feel ridiculous.”

“Why? Once you start dancing you’ll feel better.”

“Whatever you say. Please dance with me first or I will combust.”

“As you wish,” Kuroo said with a laugh. You moved towards him as he took your hand, starting to move you around the room. The other couples on the dance floor were pressed against each other, hands slipping down from their partner’s waists and faces leaning in close to whisper who knows what in each others ears. Kuroo held you respectfully, knowing that he dragged you here and you could run off at any moment if you felt like it. The music swelled, filling the ballroom with a beautiful hum. The room was huge and silver. A giant chandelier dangled from the ceiling and cast lovely shattered flecks of light all around the room.

You had practiced this dance so many times that you could go into autopilot and observe your surroundings without missing a beat. Kuroo spun you quickly as your eyes passed over the crowd. You recognized a few faces as Kuroo’s friends from college. Some of them he had known since high school. All of the friends of his you had met so far were fun. If they could put up with Kuroo they could put up with anything.

You saw Kenma in the crowd and cast him a smile. He held up a hand to greet you. You knew he’d find you later and talk your ear off, but there was no way you could get him in the middle of the room for a dance. He looked handsome in his tuxedo. He was never as strong as Kuroo, but he still filled it out nicely with his newfound confidence.

“Hey, Kei is here!” Kuroo said happily. You looked back at him with confusion. You knew the name, but he was one of Kuroo’s high school friends that you hadn’t met yet.

“Where?” you asked.

“Right next to Kenma. The blond.” You spun around again and looked over to where Kenma was. A giant loomed over him, his back to you. He had shaggy blond hair and looked relatively thin, but you could see muscle through his tight-fitting dress pants.

“Jesus, how tall is he?” you asked. “He looks huge compared to poor Kenma.” Kuroo laughed.

“He’s always been big. Last time we saw each other he said he was over 6’4 but who knows at this point.”  Your eyes widened.

Kuroo let out his hyena laugh in response and the blond - Kei, though you didn’t know his last name - turned at the clearly familiar sound. He wore a wide pair of glasses that framed serious eyes. His face was cold as he turned, but as soon as he saw Kuroo it softened into a smile. He held up a hand, long fingers twitching slightly in greeting. Kuroo’s hand left your waist, waving eagerly back at his friend.

“After this song let’s go say hi,” he said. You nodded, eyes still fixed on the man. His face settled into a slight smirk as he observed you, then turned back to Kenma, running a hand through his blond hair.

The song ended and you and Kuroo made your way to the edge of the ballroom, but the blond was nowhere to be found. Kenma greeted you with a hug and a shower of compliments. He had really come out of his shell since college.

“Where’d Kei get off to?” Kuroo asked.

“No idea,” Kenma said, glancing around. “He’s hard to miss, though. I’m sure you’ll find him easily enough.” He laughed. “I think he’s grown even more since we last saw him.”

“Are you serious? That’s hardly fair.”

“Agreed. No man deserves to be 6’5.” Six fucking five. It wasn’t often you ran into someone that could dwarf Kuroo. Jesus. You needed a drink.

“I’m heading to the bar, Tetsu,” you said. Kuroo nodded and waved you on, chatting happily with Kenma as you walked away.

Even the bar sparkled with silver. The man behind the counter wore red velvet, looking more like an employee at the Tower of Terror than a bartender.

“What can I get for you, love?” he asked.

“What can you make?”

“Absolutely anything you’d like.”

You laughed. “Can you make a mojito? Pineapple, if it’s possible.”

“Absolutely.” He turned and began to skillfully rifle through the selection of rum behind him.

“What are you, on vacation?” a voice asked behind you. You could almost hear the smirk in his words. You turned, immediately having to look higher up than you thought you would. Kuroo’s blond friend stood behind you with a sly smile on his face.

“Something wrong with my order?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” he said, leaning on his elbows against the bar beside you, shrinking to your height. “Who orders pineapple at an event like this?”

“People who don’t give a shit about the snooty atmosphere.”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked away, watching the bartender make your drink. “Am I snooty, then?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.”

“I assure you, snooty I am not.”

The bartender set down your drink in front of you, plopping a cherry on top as he did so. “There you go,” he said cheerfully. “Whose tab will this be on?” He looked between you and the blond.

“I’m not paying for their little cocktail, thanks.” Kei shrugged and looked at you, that annoying smile still glinting in his eyes.

“I guess that’ll be mine, then. Put it under y/n. I’m definitely not done drinking tonight.” Your eyes met the his. He was looking at you with an unreadable expression, eyes glinting with something that looked like amusement. The bartender laughed and turned to the other man.

“Anything I can get you?” Kei let his eyes leave yours.

“Dry martini, please.” You laughed loudly and took a sip of your drink. The bartender began his order and the tall man looked at you.

“Something funny about my order, too?”

“A dry martini? Who are you, James Bond?”

“Tsukishima. Kei Tsukishima.” He smiled widely this time, clearly amused at your reaction.

“Y/n,” you replied, happy that he went along with the joke. The bartender set the martini down in front of Tsukishima. He picked it up and licked his lips, taking a sip without letting his eyes leave yours.

“Put this on their tab, as well,” he said.

“Excuse me?” you said, incredulous at his attitude.

“I’ll get the next.” He took another sip as the bartender walked off to deal with his other customers. “So, you Kuroo’s new partner?” The word fell from his mouth dripping with sarcasm. You choked out a laugh.

“Absolutely not. We’ve been friends since college.”

“College, huh? He ever mention me?”

“Yeah, actually. I’ve heard all about what a brat you are. He pegged you perfectly.”

Tsukishima smiled. “You think I’m being bratty?”

“You are absolutely being bratty. Don’t forget I’m paying for your drink.” His eyes kept on sparkling. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but the way he looked at you made it feel like he was seeing straight into your thoughts.

“So.” He twirled the glass in his hand. God, his hands were huge. “If Kuroo’s not your partner . . .”

“If I wasn’t here with Kuroo I’d be dancing alone.” He nodded, looking satisfied with your answer. He threw back the rest of his martini and gestured to your cup.

“Finish your drink,” he said, straightening up and towering over you again.

“Why?”

“We’re going to dance, dumbass.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. He mirrored your expression and nodded at your glass. “Finish it or I’ll finish it for you.”

You glared up at him, pulling the cherry out by the stem and tipping the drink back, swigging the last bit of bitterness. You popped the cherry in your mouth and flicked the stem into Tsuki’s empty glass. He smirked and made his way through the crowd. You followed, head a bit hazy from chugging your drink so quickly.

He made it to the edge of the dance floor right as the next song began playing. He turned and held out a hand to you. His fingers were long and well-manicured. You raised your eyebrows with as much attitude as you could muster, taking his hand. He smiled. His hand was soft and a little cold. He pulled you onto the dance floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand settled on your hip, long fingers splaying out and digging into your side. It was almost possessive. This close he smelled like basil soap and something musky that made your head spin as he gracefully sidestepped and led you around the room.

For such a tall man, he was a remarkably good dancer. His movements were precise and sure, leading you better than even Kuroo did. When he moved his arms you could see his jacket strain slightly. He wasn’t a thick man by any means, but what he had was all muscle. His eyes didn’t leave yours as you danced, intense gaze making you antsy but determined not to look away first.

“I didn’t mention this before but your dress is lovely.” His gaze trained down your body as he spoke.

“What, are you being nice now?” you asked.

“I can be mean if you’d like.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” His eyes darkened.

“Try me.”

“You sure?”

You shrugged. His hand slid along to the small of your back and he dipped you. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you back up, face suddenly serious. He looked around the room.

“Do you know how much attention you’re drawing to yourself with that neckline?”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?” He leaned down, very close to your ear. You got goosebumps as he spoke.

“I’m saying your dress makes you look a little slutty.” You drew your head away from him. He perked back up and smiled at your shock. “I thought you wanted me to be mean.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to diss my dress.”

He shrugged and dug his fingers into your side, pulling your hips flush against him. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

Your face felt suddenly hot. He grinned.

“You’re a pretty little thing when you’re flustered,” he said.

“Keep talking and those dress pants aren’t going to be able to hide how pretty you think I am.” His eyebrows shot up, this time in genuine surprise. You smiled. He clearly wasn’t used to encountering people willing to taunt him back. He looked away for a moment and regained his composure.

“Why would I try to hide that?”

“You seem the private type. I figured a broom closet or bathroom stall would better suit your taste.” His smile darkened.

“Done.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Too late. He was already pulling you off of the still swirling dance floor.

He led you past the bar and down a hall, clearly familiar with the terrain. The hallway was littered with doors, but he led you to one of the very last ones. He threw open the door and pulled you inside. The room was mid-sized but cramped. There were chairs lining the table. The walls looked strangely soft, like it was soundproofed for privacy’s sake. There was a window on one side. Moonlight streamed through the half-shut blinds, giving the room a cold glow.

Tsukishima wasted no time in locking the door and taking you by the hips, pushing you against the wall.

“You’re a testy one, aren’t you?” he growled, gripping the fabric of your dress tightly.

“I try to be,” you replied, hand finding its way into his hair and pulling him down to your lips. He kissed you hungrily. His lips were soft and angry, attitude apparent even in how his tongue slipped into your mouth. He was teasing you without words, daring you to push back. You obliged, biting down lightly on his bottom lip. He let out a small sound and pushed harder against you. He separated from you and began to trail aggressive kisses down your neck.

“If you’re going to be smart with your mouth I’ll give you something else to do with it,” he breathed against you. You shivered.

“You’re all talk so far,” you sighed. “If you’re going to do it, do it.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your shoulder.

“Naughty thing,” he murmured. His hands trailed up your body, finding your face. He held your cheeks and smiled. He ran a finger across your bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me what else those pretty lips can do?” You said nothing but grabbed his belt all the same, staring him in the eyes with a smug expression on your face. Once his dress pants were undone you sunk to your knees in front of him. He inhaled sharply at your compliance.

He was hard already at the way you kissed him. You wasted no time pulling down his boxers and taking him all the way into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he hit the back of your throat. He covered his mouth with his hand, seemingly more out of restraint than to actually hold back any noise. You continued moving your head, tongue sliding over the head of his cock. It didn’t take long to figure out that drove him crazy. His groans raised in pitch the more you took advantage of how sensitive he was. You wrapped a hand around him and swirled your tongue around his head. He let out what was almost a whimper and grabbed your hair, gripping it so tightly it made your eyes water. You sped up, eliciting similar sounds from him.

“Mother . . . fucker,” he groaned in a whisper, hand moving from deep in your hair to your forehead, his touch nearly a caress. You slowed your pace at his enthusiasm and his breathing hitched.

“Fuck. Don’t do that.” You hummed in amusement, the vibrations causing him to tip his head back. You sped up again. Just as he began whimpering you slowed again. His second hand found your hair this time, both tugging tightly.

“One more time and I -- fuck.” He tipped his forehead forward against the wall as you quickened your pace again. You felt him twitch in your mouth and knew he was close.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck.” He spat out his words, rocking his hips a bit to the pace you set. “Oh, fuck.” His swearing raised in pitch. He was so close. “I --” You pulled off of him completely and looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight. His hips bucked and he let out a horrible little whimper. His breathing was irregular as he repeated the word “fuck” over and over again, to himself and to you. The haze of his denied orgasm began to fade and he looked down at you with deadly serious eyes.

“I’m not playing that fucking game.” He tugged on your hair, pulling you into a standing position. It hurt in the best way, especially satisfying now that he was so riled up. He whirled you around and pinned you against the table. He lifted your hips so that you were seated and began pushing your dress up, hands lost in the mess of skirts.

“You don’t get to pull some shit like that and think you’re getting away with it.” His hands slid up your thighs and pushed them apart. You shivered. His long fingers found the lace of your undergarments.

“Slutty under here too. I should have expected that.” He pressed his fingers against you through the cloth, making you inhale sharply in anticipation. “Oh well,” he chuckled. “These just make it easier for me.” He pushed the fabric aside and slipped a single long finger inside of you. You gasped and your brows furrowed. He mirrored your expression like he was taunting you.

“So wet just from sucking my cock.” He whispered the words like he almost didn’t want you to hear the taunt. He pushed a second finger into you. You breathed out hard, suppressing a noise. He chuckled.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to act all shy now,” he said. His fingers curled and you let a moan escape. “There we are.” His smirk returned to his face. He repeated the motion. You felt your core tightening, forcing your back to arch up against him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re pretty when you’re all wound up. Too bad you’re such a whore. You let guys do this to you often? Whisk you into a dark room and have their way with you?” You shook your head. He laughed lightly, curling his fingers again. You moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly. “I like your honesty. I guess you’re only a slut for me.”

His pace inside you was steady and his gaze was intense. You knew you were close but if you told him that he’d probably pull away just you did to him. Your eyes shut tightly, hand finding his hair and tugging. You swore and he pulled his hand away. Though you were expecting the motion, it didn’t stop your thighs from closing tightly, begging for the contact that was no longer there. He slipped his fingers into his mouth so casually it made you gasp. He popped them out after a moment and ran his messy hand through his hair.

“Sorry to torture you back,” he said, pushing your legs apart again and pulling your hips closer to the edge of the table. “But when you come I want it to be on my cock.” He slipped his dress pants down again and tugged the lace off of your legs. He ground his hips forward, rubbing against you. Your breathing hitched and he laughed.

“So needy for me. What would you do if I just walked out?” You glared up at him and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close.

“Not letting me go, huh? Don’t have to tell me twice.” He pushed inside of you slowly, brows furrowing and eyes fluttering closed as he did so. You both swore as he buried himself inside of you. He was big, but it didn’t hurt. You wiggled your hips a little, wishing he would move. He chuckled at your efforts.

“You want me to hurry up? You’re gonna have to ask nicely.” You glared up at him.

“Please,” you muttered.

His brows shot up.

“Please what?”

“Please move already, you stubborn fuck.”

He laughed in surprise.

“So dirty. You asked nicely though, so . . .” He drew his hips back and drove back into you. You let out a sigh. He grabbed the back of your neck with his huge hand and pulled you forward into a kiss as he continued moving. His swearing and your moans got lost in the kiss as he set a faster pace. He pulled away from your lips, leaving his forehead leaning against yours.

“Fuck.” He choked on a groan as he spoke. “You make such pretty sounds. Did your drink make you this honest or is it my cock?” You buried a fist in his hair and pulled. He let out an unexpectedly loud sound at the motion. He stared down at you, eyes on fire.

“Shut the fuck up,” you breathed. He grinned and pulled you in for another kiss, this one much more desperate. His hand trailed up your neck, squeezing lightly as he did. You tipped into his palm but it kept traveling upwards. It stopped along your jaw, thumb slipping up to separate your kiss. He slipped it into your mouth. He swore as you eagerly sucked in the finger, staring him in the eye. He smiled and pulled it back, returning his lips to yours. His hand slipped down between your legs, using the thumb that had been in your mouth to trace a circle on your clit. You gasped and moved away from the kiss. He caught your head with his other hand, keeping you close to him as he continued the snap of his hips and the motion of his finger.

“Fuck, Tsukishima.” He sped up the pace of his hand.

“Say that again.” He sounded desperate, leaning his head into your shoulder.

“Tsukki . . .” you trailed off before you could say anything else, lost in the feeling of him. He let out what sounded like a growl at the sound of his name.

“Fuck,” he said. It was almost pathetic how messy he sounded. You buried your hand in his hair again, tugging slightly.

“Tsukki, please.”

He let out a shaky sound. He picked his head up and laid a quick kiss on you.

“Come with me. Please,” he said. You nodded and your head tipped back. He began swearing under his breath, words bleeding together into a mess of desperation.

“Fuck, Tsukki,” you moaned, body tensing as you came. At the feeling and sight of you finishing he quickly followed, pulling out of you but leaving his thumb moving to carry you through your orgasm. Your faces pressed against each other, both breathing hard. You felt him twitching against you as he came. He might have gotten on your dress, but that was the last thing on your mind.

His sweaty face buried into the crook of your neck and his arms slipped around your waist, holding you close to him. Your shaky hands found their way into his hair, running your fingers gently through the mess. It felt good to just hold him as you both caught your breath, his strong chest rising and falling against you. He withdrew slightly and placed a gentle, sloppy kiss on your lips before letting out a laugh. You did the same, smiling up at his face. You hadn’t even noticed, but he was still wearing his glasses. They were fogged up from leaning against you.

“You’re pretty,” you said, pushing the frames up into his hair and pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips. When you pulled away his face was red.

“Don’t just say shit like that,” he muttered.

“Aw, who’s flustered now?” You laughed as his face twisted into a frown. He put his glasses back on properly and peeled himself away from you.

“We really should get back,” he said, tugging his pants back up and redoing his belt. You nodded but were unsure what to do about the problem he had left all over your thighs. He saw you hesitating and laughed when he realized what you were thinking.

“Here,” he said, picking up your underwear and approaching. You looked at him in confusion before he used them to clean you off and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket. He noticed you staring in horror and laughed.

“I have to give them back at some point now,” he smirked. “Guess you’ll have to see me again.” You rolled your eyes in amusement as you rearranged your dress and tried your best to fix your hair. He was having trouble with his since the rim around his face was coated with sweat. You tried your best to help him. He stared at you with a gentle smile as you worked. You pretended not to notice.

“I think it’s best if we go out one at a time,” he said. You nodded and he approached the door, turning to face you before he left. “Do I look like I just fucked someone in a dark room?” You grinned and shook your head.

“You look fine.”

“You look great, too,” he said with a small smile. He left the room and left you alone, waiting impatiently to go. When it had been long enough you slipped the door open and walked out, shakier on your feet than you’d like to be.

You immediately went to the bar, asking for a shot of tequila. Anything to soothe your nerves. You took it quickly and shook your head. You were fine. You just needed to make sure you got Tsukki’s number from Kuroo.

“Y/n! Jesus, there you are.” Speak of the devil. You turned to face Kuroo as he approached, Kenma and a disheveled looking Tsukishima in tow. He looked flushed. His hair was still messy and a little sweaty despite his best efforts. Your eyes widened with pride when you saw him looking so fucked. You smiled at Kuroo.

“Sorry, I went wandering.”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Got lost.”

“Of course you did. I wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. This is Tsukishima Kei. We knew each other in high school. We were volleyball rivals.” Kuroo looked proud as he explained. “I taught him everything he knows.”

“Oh, I’m sure not everything,” you said, turning to Tsukki. His eyebrows raised at your borderline suggestive comment. He reached out to shake your hand with the same hand that had been buried in you not long ago.

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” he said through a smile.

“They haven’t said their name,” Kenma said, frowning. Tsukki’s eyes widened before setting into a more sure expression.

“Kuroo mentioned them earlier.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Kenma still looked suspicious. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, slapping Tsukkishima on the shoulder and starting to talk about the ‘good old days’. Whenever Kuroo turned to address Kenma, Kei’s eyes found yours, smiling very slightly so the other men didn’t notice. You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, quietly observing the huge man in his well-fitting tuxedo.

“Oh shit, y/n,” he said suddenly, cutting off the conversation. “I think you spilled something on your dress.” Your face flushed and eyes widened. Panicked and annoyed, you looked down at your dress.  Sure enough, about halfway down the skirt, there was a patch of what thankfully looked like nothing but a spilled drink at the moment.

“God. I’m clumsy. Not surprised that I ruined my nicest dress.” You laughed it off as the three men stared at you, Tsukki with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. I’m sure your dress is fine,” Kuroo said.

“Nope,” you said, glancing up at Tsukki. “Definitely ruined.”

[tamagochiie]

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing

w/c: 2.2k

tagging list: @angrylittleriri​ @chims-kookies​ @gooseyhouse​

a/n: hello! welcome to the second chapter of the series! i’m posting this a little later than expected because wifi is really trying to cock block me from posting :’) i honestly wasn’t expecting people to like or interacting with this fic, so my heart is super warm right now :>  

anyway, I hope you enjoy!

happy almost new year! see you all next week!

master list

<< life as we know it | life as he’s known it >>

You wonder what the younger version of you would think if you went back in time and told her she'd be eating at a dining table filled with food that wasn't microwavable, and the air wouldn't be filled by the sound of metal clanging and scraping against each other, but instead be filled by the lilting giggles of a little boy; his older brother pressing him to keep it down; and Kenma's casual yet awkward attempt to relate to the two.

She would probably cry.

Your parents' work piled up to the late hours of the evening and spilled into the morning, leaving you in a constant state of dejection. The house would be barren, nothing but the faint ticking of the old grandfather clock to keep you company. But even if your parents were home, it would still be the same; the air cold and unmoving.

Your parents were not warm nor were they emotional, and maybe that's what drew you to Kenma; he was quiet, rarely affectionate, and gave you more than enough room to breathe. Sure, there were the occasional forehead kisses, the head pats, the 'how are you doing' texts, and sometimes if he was brave enough, he’d interlock pinkies with you in public.

But you grew selfish, finding yourself wanting a little more each time you saw him, and you weren't sure if it was okay.

Was it okay to yearn for things? 

Was it okay to ask for more?

But Kenma saw through your facade of accepting things as they are and right into your neediness. He was willing to give as long as you asked or even when you were too shy to do so. He even gave you his whole life without sparing a second thought even if the realization that he had done so came much later.

"Here, let me." Kenma slips his hands over yours, taking the plate from within your grasp to wash it in your place. He bumps his hips against yours, causing you to stumble away from the sink.

You mumble a thank you before resorting to wiping down the dishes and setting them on the rack.

You delight in his banter. He asks you about your day, stealing glances between you and the stack of dishes before him while you give him the run down. He listens to you intently, gaze wandering a little longer when he hears an exasperated sigh escape your lips, but you let him know you're just fine.

"What about you?" You ask, tilting your head and playfully moving it in front of Kenma's face, blocking him from the plate he needs to scrub. "How was your day?"

He hums, tiptoeing over you to finish the chore like the diligent little worker he is. "It was another day," You frown at him and his lack of effort to push further. He rolls his eyes, chuckling at your pouty face. "I played another trial game with Eiji—"

"And how'd that go?"

"Oh, he's absolute shit—ow!" Your slap against his arm resounds throughout the apartment, causing Yuki and Eiji's to jerk their attention towards you both. You mold your face into a look of ease, sparing them a warm smile, telling them you saw a fly.

"The hell?! I wasn't finished!" The pudding head seethes. "Sure he was shit, but he was still better than you."

The cocky grin slipping across his lips matching with his lidded eyes has you throwing your hands, erupting a series of ow's. "You're such an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah, the ass you chose." He sneers, handing you the last plate to dry.

He rubs his arm in an attempt to soothe the stinging, glaring at you begrudgingly. It takes you a while to ease back into his trust, but you do, and he picks up where he leaves off as if he wasn't in any pain  to begin with.

He tells you about his little trip to the convenience store with Yuki for his strawberry milk, and the foreign, constricting feeling that wouldn't leave his chest until they came back home. How he couldn't let go of Yuki's hand when they were in the store, and if he did, it would send him in a state of sheer panic.

"Must be your mommy instincts kicking in," You joke, and he only rolls his eyes.

He also admits inadvertently turning all your favorite whites into various shades of pinks and blues. As someone as analytical as Kenma, he was challenged by the task of separating the lights from the darks. 

You snort, earning a scowl from your boyfriend and a string of explanations to defend his case. But it isn't the mistake that makes you laugh, but rather how far you've come after a month of adjustments and an unfortunate series of events.

The first two weeks were exceptionally trying. No one spoke a word and everyone walked on eggshells. Eiji was still too shy to look at you, his responses down to a bare minimum and quieter than a whisper; Yuki cried almost all the time over every little thing, and the vein in Kenma's neck was threatening to pop every time he did.

It didn't help when you and Kenma would end your nights at each other's throats, bickering till you fell asleep. And when morning came, you'd be greeted by the emptiness from his side of the bed.

And it helped no one when the two of you would avoid each other, never crossing paths or breathing a word the moment you came home until it was too painfully awkward to continue.

Two and half hours charged with petty arguments, things of the past, and all the little things that came in between only to have finally arrived at one conclusion: You weren't parents and you weren't Akihiro-san. You were your own people and it was okay to do things differently.

Even if different meant that Kenma might call the kids by the wrong name or forget the fact he's living with someone else other than you. Even if different meant that you'll be absent-mindedly teaching Yuki a few curses to add to his vocabulary or forgetting to enroll them in school.

The truth is no one from the family was going to return your calls, and you were probably going to spend the rest of your twenties making up bedtime stories and giving pretty bad advice to someone just a few years younger than you.

Which brings you here, wearing your bathing suit as you share your bubble bath with Yuki because he wanted to play with the rubber duckies he whined and moaned at Kenma to buy for him at the store.

Lathering his hair with shampoo, Yuki's head leans against your chest, eyes gleaming beneath the bathroom lights. He beams at you, giggling at the ticklish feeling as you massage his head. He brings attention back to his ducks, making crashing sounds as he splashes them into the water.

"Is that how ducks swim?" You ask, washing away the soap from his hair. "Don't they just kinda...float around?"

He shakes his head before twisting his body to face you. He's got a tough expression plastered on; brows furrowed, his jaw clenched, eyes unwavering.

A very serious boy.

"These are special ducks," He explains, raising one to your face."These are battleship ducks."

Your lips fall to an 'o', still not picking up what he's putting down but you pretend you do.

Is this what kids are into these days?

Yuki goes on to tell you about his special ducks; something about lasers in their eyes, super special flying skills, and...echo location? You ask him if he's sure—if you heard him right, but he's as firm with his stance as he is with the death grip he has on his rubber duckies.

You drain the tub before rinsing yourselves beneath the warm water of the shower. Yuki flips his hair around, air drying himself as he steps out of the tub. You tell him to brush his teeth while he waits for you to finish rinsing.

"Hey, Oba-san," Yuki's call is muffled by the foam of the toothpaste still in his mouth. "Are you and Kenma-san married?"

You nearly fall when you slip off of your bathing suit and into your pajamas.  "Ah, no, Yuki. We're not."

"But aren't you in love?" He asks, oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere, spitting into the sink and washing his mouth.

Your eye twitches and you swallow the lump in your throat before it goes big enough for you to choke and die. "Uhh, people don't always have to marry right away just because they're in love..."

"But Kenma-san said he's been in love with you for four years."

"I—Yeah, well—"

"That's sounds like a really long time, Oba-san." You can't tell if he means to sound condescending. You can't tell if your mom has awakened from the grave and possessed the young boy because she woke up thinking she had a few more things she'd like to pester you with.

"Well, Yuki," You gather the little patience you have left, taking a deep breath as you step out of the tub. The bathroom tile is cold against the soles of your feet, sending a shiver down your spine. Enough to keep you sober for trivial conversation with a six year old boy. "Love—Love kinda looks different for everyone, Yuki."

You choose your words carefully, not wanting to say anything that might confuse him.

You help him into his clothes, his hair leaving wet patches onto his his dinosaur pajamas. He listens to you intently, looking right into your eyes. "There are people marry the moment they meet—or at least after a short while—because they can't help but feel sure?” 

And you can’t help but feel flustered at your own explanation, not too sure with your words, “...and other people don't do that. Some relationships move at a faster pace and other's move a bit slower; and Kenma-san and I...we're happy with how things are right now."

He hums, nodding his head as if he understands. "Even though Eiji-san and I are here?"

"Yes, little love." You assure him with the new nickname, booping his nose. "Even though you're both here."

You grab his towel and dry his hair. You pat down the tiny puddles of water on his face and neck, noting to wipe behind his ears.

"But," Yuki mumbles through the material of the towel, swatting your hand away to to catch his breath, "sometimes people don't like different..." Yuki pushes the towel to this side, his glossy eyes meeting yours and your heart cracks. "They didn't like my dad 'cause he was different."

"H-He didn't love someone th-that looked like y-you..." Yuki bites down on his bottom lip, keeping it from quivering and fixating his eyes onto the tiles of the floor to prevent himself from choking on his words. "H-He...He loved someone that look like Kenma-san."

You understand what he means. You know full well. Their father was gay and because of that, your family ostracized him without wasting another breath. As if it was easy as blinking.

You knew what their father had been going through, you had enough time to help, yet you stood idle, doing nothing but add to his loneliness.

You kept all the sunshine Akihiro-san shared with you during your bluest days, even when it had been so obvious he needed it more than you.

But not once did you ever think about returning a sliver of it. And you wonder maybe if you hadn't been so selfish and naive, a silver lining would've been enough to avoid something as painful as this.

Instinctively, you pull him close to you, threading your fingers through his still damp hair. You shush him and press kiss on the crown of his head as his petite figure trembles in your arms. You let him sob into your shirt, his fingers twisting the material in anguish.

And it breaks your heart that a little human like him would not only know the meaning of anguish, but how it feels to have it tear through his heart.

It takes a few moments for Yuki to catch his breath and for you to ease him. He slumps onto you as he regains his strength. You tell him you're sorry because you are and because you don't know what else to say.

You try to use his strawberry milk and his brother as an incentive to keep him from crying again. And after a few minutes it works.

You trail closely behind him when he walks out of the bathroom. He begins to run when he gets closer to Eiji, the  pitter patter of his wee little feet carrying in the apartment.

You watch as Yuki thrusts himself forward into the arms of his brother, and Eiji doesn't fail to catch him. The sight before you leaves you gawking in silence, watching Eiji unravel into his big brother form as  he lifts Yuki to the ceiling, playfully sniffing his under arms, the crook of his neck, and even his little bum before complimenting him, "Good job, you smell just like flowers."

His giggles float in the air, swarming around the apartment as if he hadn't been crying just a few minutes ago.

And as you watch the scene unfold do you  decide to step out of the sidelines, using this warm moment shared between the boys as your driving force to keep the last of your cousin's light safe.