#ignore the stupid fucking meme in the top left

[vulcan-moon]

did some studies of cat photos, ft close ups of my two favourites

[msmargaretmurry]

Mini fic 13. things you said at the kitchen table would be fun for matthew and leon, because another pair of my blorbos have several Important Scenes in the kitchen, so seeing how that setting is used for others is nice!

as i'm sure everyone has forgotten by now, eons ago i was doing this writing meme, and so many lovely folks left me prompts that i never got to because grad school destroyed my ability to write. but i am trying to get back in a creative groove so we're resurrecting it. so thank you for your patience/sorry about the wait i guess?? 😂 anway —

13. things you said at the kitchen table

“There you are.”

The kitchen had been so quiet that Leon jumps, looking up from his phone to see Matthew leaning in the doorway, eyebrows knit together with a frown. He’s bare-chested, barefoot, wearing the gray sweatpants that had been folded on top of Leon’s hamper, worn once but not dirty enough to put through the wash yet. There’s an array of teeth marks and mouth-shaped bruises down his torso, just starting to bloom with color. If he turned around, Leon knows, there would be a matching constellation on the back of his hip, disappearing under the waistband.

Leon tends to lose himself in the moment. Sometimes it’s a little embarrassing to see what he’s done afterwards.

Matthew tilts his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon looks at his phone again, somewhere in the middle of a mindless scroll through Instagram, then sets it aside. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

“Coulda woken me up,” Matthew says, that cocky little grin of his tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I woulda tired you back out.” He’s crossing the room as he says this, ignoring Leon’s eye-roll, pulling out a chair to sit down across from him. Elbows on the table, eyebrows raised. The only time he’s stopped looking smug all night is when Leon had him gasping and panting and moaning too hard to look anything but desperate. Which is stupid, because his team kind of got destroyed earlier, but maybe his face is just kind of stuck that way.

Leon doesn’t really get Matthew at all. He likes him well enough — a surprising enough thing on its own, and one that Leon is still reluctant to cop to sometimes. But there’s something impenetrable about him. He always leaves Leon feeling off-balance. Something about the way he walks into every room like there’s no reason he wouldn’t belong there, including Leon’s kitchen. 

The sex is great, though.

Matthew hasn’t spent the night before, but not for any real reason. Just lack of opportunity. Leon usually likes sharing a bed when he has the chance. 

Matthew nudges his foot under the table. “Hey.”

Leon blinks at him. “What?”

“You sure you’re awake?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ awake,” Leon says, and kicks him back.

“Well then act like it,” Matthew says, catching Leon’s ankle briefly between his feet. “Is everything okay?”

Leon opens his mouth to say yes, but then he takes a moment to consider the situation, and instead he says, “This is a little weird, isn’t it? You and me at the kitchen table?”

“Well, it’s not my fault we’re not still in bed.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s mostly weird because it’s the middle of the night.” The way that Matthew’s curls fall in his face is distracting. Makes Leon think about how they feel tangled in his fingers. He’d be disappointed if Matthew ever cut his hair short. “You know I’m leaving at the end of the season, right?”

This startles Leon more than Matthew’s sudden appearance two minutes ago. “What?”

“Contract’s up. Bye-bye Calgary.” Matthew shrugs with an extremely measured amount of awkwardness. That— that’s why he’s so fucking confusing. Even his sincerity feels like an act sometimes. But even more than that—

“Why?”

“It’s too fucking cold, I’m homesick, and my coach hates me.”

“No, mean— really, he does?”

Another shrug. So helpful.

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

“I’m trying to make you pay attention to me,” Matthew says. “Geez, why do you think I’m here?”

Leon raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t get enough attention earlier?”

A tiny grin. “No.”

“So where are you going?”

“Dunno yet.”

“Is that true or are you just not telling me?”

Another shrug. A slightly larger, smugger grin.

“You think I’ll miss you?”

“Nah. You’ve got Davo to keep you warm.”

“We’re not—” Leon ignores Matthew’s dancing eyebrows. “Seriously, why are you telling me this?”

Matthew kicks his foot under the table again. “Come back to bed. We’ve got, what, two games left this season? I’m trying to get the fuckin’ in while I still can.”

“So you’re going somewhere far away,” Leon says.

“Dude, you’re in Edmonton,” Matthew says. “Everywhere is far away.”

“I meant, like, out of the conference.”

Shrug. The temptation to reach across and hold Matthew’s shoulders still is so strong. Instead Leon just meets his gaze, trying for the umpteenth time to figure him out. It doesn’t work, so he looks again at the collage of bruises spilling over his collar bone. He’s changed, in the couple of years they’ve been doing this. His body used to be wirier, but now he’s starting to fill out like a grown man. Leon can feel it on the ice, when he hits him, and in bed when he fucks him. He used to be wilder, more immature, more willing to sacrifice the play to be annoying, but he’s honed that down to an art. Whatever team gets him is going to be blown away by what they find behind his reputation. And Leon— well. It’s strange to feel so acutely that in the grand scheme of things he’ll just be an anecdote in Matthew’s life. It doesn’t bother him, exactly. It’s just a strange little moment. He’d thought, maybe stupidly, that they’d be doing this for years to come. Battles of Alberta and all that. But somehow it makes a lot more sense this way.

“Come on,” he says, standing abruptly. He catches Matthew by the arm on his way around the table, pulling him along back toward the bedroom. Matthew shakes the grip off, but catches his hand instead. In bed, he kisses Leon like he means it, but there are a lot of ways to mean something.

[kurorotic]

Trois

Ship - Bokuto/Akaashi

Rating - E | WC - 12k

Tags: PWP, Transmasc He/They Akaashi, Masturbation, Virgin Bokuto, Virginity Kink, Dirty Talk, Accidental Nudes, First Time. AFAB terms

Side Ship(s) - Kuroo/Kenma. Minor Iwaizumi/Osamu.

AO3 Link - here

Summary - Bokuto accidentally receives nude photos from Akaashi that were meant for Osamu… Akaashi's ex.

Fic under the cut 🦉🍙

Koutarou saw the notification flash across the top of his phone as Hajime and Osamu pushed their way past and into their apartment first, it’s a miracle they hadn’t decided to fuck right in the elevator. Tetusrou and Koutarou being trapped with them certainly didn’t stop how the two had their tongues shoved down each other’s throats and hands in places that god wouldn’t approve of.

They left in a wake of giggles and hushed whispers while Koutarou tapped on the text from his best friend currently up in Tokyo... and awoke at quite the late hour. It wasn’t uncommon for Keiji to be up at odd hours of the night thanks to his insomnia, but he did have an early class tomorrow morning.

Koutarou assumed the three photos attached would perhaps be of Keiji’s dinner or Kenma’s cat being cute or a silly meme that Keiji spotted on twitter... literally anything other than what had Koutarou freezing on the spot. He didn’t hear the click of the door locking behind him nor did he acknowledge how a drunk Tetsurou nearly crashed into the solid wall of body blocking his way.

“Oya, whose cute ass is that?”

Koutarou let out a small yelp and went to hide his phone against his chest as Tetsurou’s tall self was leering over his shoulder, “no one.”

“Bro, I’ve already seen their ass spread out for the camera, give up the goods,” Koutarou now understood why people called Tetsurou’s stupid smirk punchable. 

Koutarou relented nonetheless, holding the phone out so they could both see the... nude photos that Keiji sent to him, he’d never seen Keiji in such an intimate state and honestly never imagined he would in a million years. Tetsurou let out a low whistle that had Koutarou jamming his elbow back into Tetsurou’s stomach, this was Keiji , not some random girl begging for Koutarou to notice her.

The first photo was of Keiji in a fluffy pink, short bathrobe with long legs on display and slender fingers toying with the sash around his waist, they were standing in front of his body length mirror. The robe was opened up in the second photo, showing off his gorgeous, lithe body underneath, it was clear that they still took care of himself after quitting volleyball.

Koutarou’s attention was immediately drawn downwards to Keiji’s pussy, the dark pubic hair was neatly trimmed and Koutarou soundly ignored Tetsurou’s snicker as Koutarou zoomed right in on that section of the photo. Koutarou was fairly fucking sure if his brain wasn’t swimming with alcohol, he’d snatch Tetsurou’s keys and drive the six or seven hours it’d take to get to Tokyo and fuck that pretty smile right off of Keiji.

The final photo had Keiji turned around, showing off their delicious ass and the... what the fuck, is that an owl tattoo just above his ass? When did Keiji get that, how long did he have that, why didn’t Koutarou know about that and what did he have to do to get his tongue on it?

Keiji was peering over their shoulder, his ass was pushed out and all Koutarou wanted to do was get on his fucking knees and devour his best friend whole... god, what the fuck, who gave him the right to be so ethereal? The two males were stuck staring at Koutarou’s phone, taking in the utter beauty of their polite and well mannered kouhai... who apparently had the bright idea of spontaneously sending Koutarou nudes?

Keiji never even showed an interest in Koutarou... he’s fairly sure that Keiji’s type aligned more with Tetsurou than himself. Koutarou tapped out of the photo to finally take notice of the caption that was at the bottom of the picture.

Keiji: missing you, ‘samu 💞

Oh.

Oh...

“Oh...” Tetsurou voiced Koutarou’s thoughts, “... well, shit. Mister Onigiri is a little busy right now, maybe you can be his replacement?”

“No way!” Koutarou nearly shouted, “these aren’t even for me, I shouldn’t be looking at them in the first place.”

“Bit too late for that one,” Tetsurou snickered as Koutarou glared back at him, then went to shove his phone back into his pocket.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t see them.”

“That’s pretty fuckin’ lame of you,” Tetsurou said, “you know what I’d do if I got Keiji’s nudes?”

Tetsurou’s answer came in the form of a lewd gesture involving his fist and humping the air.

“I’m not going to jerk off to nudes that are meant for someone else, that’s like... rude, or breaks some kind of rule?” Koutarou replied, “ and wouldn’t Kenma get pissed at you?!”

“Probably, if I didn’t share them with him too...” Tetsurou said, “I’ve got to buy him a cute robe like that... damn, he’d look fucking edible.”

“Yeah well... that feels like a shitty thing to do, Keiji took these for... Osamu and it just wouldn’t feel right... I wasn’t supposed to see him like this.”

“Dude, dude , you’re fuckin’ overthinking it,” Tetsurou clapped a hand on his shoulder that Koutarou was tempted to flick off of him, “do you hear that? Do you think that Osamu is reminiscing about his ex while getting his ass fucking railed by Hajime? Or... maybe it’s the other way around, I don’t know.”

Koutarou did not want to hear the steady thump of Hajime’s bed against the wall, but this place was small and the walls were terribly thin, “now you can pretend that you didn’t jerk off to those pictures, Keiji won’t know any better... it’s a victimless crime. A gift from the heavens has been dropped onto your lap, you shouldn’t waste it.”

“I... I mean, I guess you’re right... Keiji wouldn’t know...” Koutarou murmured as Tetsurou’s mischievous smirk only grew, “but I’d still feel guilty about it... and weird.”

“Then we can go to the confessional and you can pour your sinful heart out to Pastor Who Gives A Fuck,” Tetsurou slapped his back, “you’ve liked Kei for years now, just take this small win and act surprised when you text him back... do that after you jerk off though, clear mind and all.”

“Right...” Koutarou nodded, “right, thanks bro, you always have the best advice.”

“I’ll take my payment in those nudes,” Tetsurrou winked as Koutarou just rolled his eyes in response, “kidding, for real though enjoy them... I need to go call up Kenma because fuck , I’m horny.”

The two went their separate ways as Tetsurou’s room was at the end of hallway and Koutarou’s was on the opposite, just across from Hajime’s. Tetsurou’s first guess may have been right if the steady rise of Osamu’s voice from behind the closed door meant anything.

There was a time when Koutarou was deeply jealous of him, Keiji would come to Osaka to visit his boyfriend and maybe Koutarou if he had the time. Or rather, Koutarou hated seeing the couple together and served up a number of excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out with them. 

He secretly -with his roommates- drank to the news of their break up at the end of the summer and had thoughts about giving it a shot... but he’s sure that Keiji only viewed him as a good, hard working senpai. It’d been months since they last saw each other in person too, Koutarou didn’t have much reason to go to Tokyo if it weren’t for games and he called his parents at least once or twice a week. 

Koutarou settled himself in bed with a pair of his headphones and opened up their text thread to see that Keiji hadn’t sent any other messages, maybe he was waiting for ‘Osamu’ to reply? Koutarou chose to ignore the implications of that cursed caption and in Tetsurou’s words, enjoy this gift from the heavens , because what were the chances of Koutarou seeing Keiji like this again? On purpose, even?

His hand dug around his messy drawer for a few moments before retrieving the near empty bottle of lube, he’d have to remember to buy more next time he was out or hit up one of his roommates for one. Unlike the two of them, Koutarou didn’t have a partner nor was he into hooking up with strangers... the only sexual experience he had was with his own hand... and a fleshlight that Tetsurou gifted him ‘as a joke’.

You know... this was definitely a fleshlight moment.

He then scoured the second drawer and yanked out the -thankfully- clean toy, then squeezed what little remained of the lube into the toy itself. His cock had softened by the time he went to pull it out of his jeans, but it wouldn’t take long for it to become fully erect once Koutarou tapped on the second photo.

The filthy things he would do if he got his hands on Keiji... his kouhai was always so reserved, studious, kind of a weird cutie with how often he talked to himself when they thought no one was paying attention. He’s the only person who really held Koutarou’s attention through the years though... there was just so much to love about them and their patience excelled with Koutarou.

Koutarou’s mind went off in the direction of pushing Keiji onto the bed in the background, still wearing that robe while Koutarou delved his tongue into his cunt. Would Keiji teach him how to properly eat him out... he could hear the Bokuto-san and his calm directions in his head now, as well as the praise he’d get when he made Keiji cum on his tongue.

He bucked his hips quickly into the toy as his mind was consumed with the thought, getting a taste of what was between Keiji’s legs... having Keiji’s thighs tremble and shake around his head... making Keiji moan his name in delight. That’s all Koutarou wanted, just to make Keiji feel good with his talented mouth and fingers... he’d work so hard at figuring out all the right spots to make his lover scream.

He’d never leave Keiji like that asshole did.

Koutarou’s cum spilled into the toy as his gaze was locked on the phone, Keiji’s pretty smirk staring back at him, that should’ve been for Koutarou... not anyone else. He let out a heavy sigh as the guilt began to settle in his gut and he figured he’d rip off the bandaid now, no point in sitting on this any longer.

Koutarou >>> Keiji

Koutarou: hey hey heyyyy ummmm I think u sent these to the wrong person LOL

Koutarou set his phone down and went for a quick trip in the bathroom to clean out the fleshlight, his mind was certainly clearer... probably a good idea he didn’t drink as much as Atsumu or Tetsurou. Now he just had to hope that things didn’t get awkward between Keiji and him... there’s no way Keiji would know that he just masturbated to them... right?

There were multiple texts waiting for him from Keiji.

Keiji >>> Koutarou

Keiji: oh my GOD

OH MY FUCKNGGGOD

IM SORRY

Oh fuck I’m just going to throw myself in traffic.

Koutarou: NO WAIT

DONT

IT’S FINE

AKAAAAASHIIIIIIIIIII

Keiji: Bokuto.

I’m sorry about that... I had a few drinks and didn’t look before hitting send.

Koutarou: ITS COOL

SUPER COOL

YOU LOOK REALLY PRETTY

Keiji: Thank you.

Uh... would it be too much to ask that we never speak of this?

Koutarou: OF COURSE NOT

IT NEVER HAPPENED

Keiji: You can turn off your caps.

Koutarou: ok

But really it’s fine!! 

Samu would’ve loved them too.

Although he’s kinda busy with iwa rn lol

Keiji: Is that so?

Koutarou: yeahhh they were all over each other in the bar then iwa brought him to the apt w/ us. 

Keiji: I see... then I suppose I’ve been saved from making a bigger fool of myself.

Koutarou: NO WAY!

It’s totally cool if you miss him and all that... like I send you stuff when I miss you!!

Keiji: Owl photos are not equal to nudes, Bokuto.

Koutarou: owls are nude though!!!

Keiji: ... alright, you have me there.

Koutarou: :D 

BUT RIGHT OKAY THIS DIDNT HAPPEN

Are you going to sleep then?

Keiji: Eh, maybe.

Koutarou: I’ll stay up with you!

It’s been awhile since we called!!!

Keiji: go ahead 💕

Outgoing call to Keiji...

~

“Haru is begging and pleading with you all not to throw him overboard, he has a family back home and he’s given you all the information he knows of,” Kenma said as he glanced between the party members seated at the table, “you promised that you would spare his life.”

“It was unfathomably stupid of him to trust a pirate,” Kei replied, “we’re also in the middle of the fucking ocean, just what did he expect for us to do with him?”

“We do have a spare boat he can use to head back to land,” Keiji spoke up, “although we have no rations for him to take.”

“As if I’d willingly waste any of them on him in the first place,” Kei said, “he’s a fool, a traitor, and a pathetic snitch, let him drown at the bottom of this unforgiving sea.”

“What say you, captain?” Keiji glanced over at Shouyou.

“Well... does he have anything else of value to hand over to us? A location to a secret treasure spot? A hoard of gold in an abandoned mansion? Someone who's been captured by a vampire and needs to be rescued by a band of pirates?!” “I’d be surprised if he had a map, maybe he shoved it up his ass,” Tadashi chimed in, getting a snicker out of Kei and Keiji, “or he’s hiding it in his tooth...”

“Haru only has the clothes on his back and everyone else you’ve stolen from him,” Kenma said, “he is completely exhausted of anything more.”

“Shame, I hope he can swim then,” Shouyou said, “Xavier, Harwin, walk him off the plank! Mwahahaha!”

Keiji let out a small yawn as their session had been running late tonight, the pirate crew had just picked up a lead on someone they’re hunting down and this Haru was their closest friend. There was a tense battle on the tiny island they found him on and they managed to capture him alive for interrogation and a spot of torture when he refused to speak.

Kei and Tadashi’s characters scooped up the sobbing and pleading man by his arms and forced him onto the plank that hung over the wide ocean surrounding them. Keiji wrote down every detail in his journal and the rest of their crew was cheering, hooting, and hollering as Haru splashed into the chilly, salty seas.

“Alright, that was a long one...” Kenma said, “you’re all turning out more evil than I initially planned... especially you, Shou.”

“It’s so fun being the villain for once!” Shouyou was beaming, “I can kill everyone without shame or those silly morals.”

“I do wonder what our bounty will be at the next time we hit shore,” Kei remarked.

“At this rate you’ll hit a million gold pieces before you end up back in the capital,” Kenma said as Kei and Tadashi both smiled at that, “now let’s see how many experience points you’ve gained...”

Keiji briefly tuned out the conversation as they reached for their phone since they were allowed to bring out the devices once the session was over. There were a number of notifications awaiting him, but he skimmed past them in favor of seeing what Koutarou sent to him.

He knew that Keiji had a game night every Thursday as this was the only time they could all get together during the week and not to expect any texts back until Keiji was done. Keiji usually came back to a mountain of memes, twitter posts, and tiktoks depending on how bored Koutarou was at the time, but for now there were only three images awaiting them.

Three... very salacious photographs.

Three pictures that had Keiji immediately dipping out of the text thread and paying intense attention to the conversation around him, would they notice if he just... left. Keiji didn’t take in the exact details of the pictures, they just saw sweaty muscles, well defined thighs, and... and Koutarou’s dick. 

Now, Keiji was no stranger to receiving random disembodied dick pictures from guys who wanted to fuck him and thought hey, this will reel in the pretty twink. Keiji will not confirm nor deny if that strategy was solid, but Koutarou did not seem like the dick pic type... 

Contrary to popular opinion and the people Koutarou surrounded himself with... he was quite innocent compared to them... and Keiji himself. He’d lost track of how many times a sexual joke or innuendo flew over Koutarou’s head and Keiji had to explain it to him before Tetsurou or Kenma tried to troll him. 

It was cute, honestly, Koutarou came to him with the most random of questions since Keiji had the answer to everything and he was quite the self professed slut. As for why Koutarou was suddenly sending them nudes... did it have anything to do with the incident that occurred last week?

Ugh, Keiji cringes upon himself as he can’t believe he’d made such a stupid mistake... Koutarou was sweet enough to distract him from his impending spiral as well. It was definitely a moment of weakness because yes , he was missing Osamu, he didn’t want to hit up grindr and his ex knew just how to fuck him.

They were on... better terms as of late, Osamu messaged Keiji first and they’ve been having a back and forth that’s making Keiji wonder if there’s a possibility of them getting back together. Osamu hasn’t turned down his flirting and those pictures were obviously meant to entice him into doing more than just talk , however a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on him as soon as Koutarou mentioned Iwaizumi.

On the slight upside, it wasn’t Suna, Osamu’s high school ex... but ugh, it still didn’t feel good that Osamu was flirting with him that same day and now he was in Iwaizumi’s bed? Then he had the gall to text Keiji the following afternoon asking how his ‘cute darling’ was doing and Keiji didn’t bother answering, he would not let himself get jerked around like that.

Shouyou wished all of them good night before he left their apartment, Kei and Tadashi headed off into Kei’s bedroom, and Kenma was chatting with his stream. Oh yeah, they all volunteered for their games to be streamed and he’s sure the chat was going bonkers from how cruel they were being.

Keiji showed himself out as Kenma acknowledged with a brief nod and no one questioned just how fast he sped off into his bedroom. He opened up the text thread again, ogling the photos for a moment before going to look at the caption that accompanied them.

Koutarou: do these look okay...?

Was Koutarou taking these for someone else and asking Keiji for his opinion on them? There was a small pang of something in his chest as Koutarou must’ve wanted to impress and seduce someone... of course he’d go to Keiji for this. 

They had to be a good friend, not a weird horndog.

The first photo in line was your typical bathroom selfie, Koutarou’s towel hung rather low on his hips and he was flexing with his free arm while holding the camera with the other. Keiji had to swallow the saliva that gathered in his mouth when he saw just how built Koutarou was... there was also a fine amount of chest hair on his pecs that had Keiji absolutely melting.

Koutarou was truly their ideal man... whoever was getting these pictures better fucking appreciate them or else Keiji would be going on a rampage from here to Osaka. Koutarou knew (whether it was on purpose or not) how to take decent gym selfies that showed off his muscles and this was in a similar vein, so he definitely succeeded on that front.

Next photo, the towel was pulled over his lap and outlined his hard cock underneath, his abs were also in full view and just a hint of a smirk on his lips as the rest of his face was cut off. Keiji wanted to tear that towel off with his teeth , not his hands... his teeth because then he could swallow that monster that Koutarou was packing because holy fuck . 

He had a fairly good idea from their time in the locker room and various dick related conversations that they found themselves sucked into, but seeing it like this... the mystery of what could be underneath. Keiji subconsciously squeezed his thighs together, he definitely had ‘Size Queen’ listed on his grindr bio and Koutarou may have been bigger than Osamu... probably, hopefully. 

Hopefully? Keiji, that man’s dick ain’t going inside of you.

Platonic thoughts, keep your thoughts platonic, good wholesome fluffy christian thoughts about your best friend cock, WHAT. An actual sound escaped from Keiji’s throat as they saw the third picture, Koutarou was holding his massive cock at the base and there was precum dripping down the shaft.

He needed to ride that dick, asap. Or get face fucked by it. Or thrown against the wall and fucked until he was only chanting Koutarou’s name. How in the world was this man still a virgin, who was lucky enough to have the chance to be his first?

Sure as fuck ain’t you.

Keiji had to calm himself and give reasonable feedback on his best friend’s nudes... they were certainly doing the job when it came to making Keiji hot and bothered and aching for a cock. A passing thought crossed his mind about Tetsurou probably giving him dick pic advice... are these angles Tetsurou would use for Kenma? ... yeah, yeah he was the same as Keiji when it came to loving huge cocks.

And god Keiji would never forget how joyful Kenma was when he saw Tetsurou’s dick for the first time, he’s so long, Keiji! Now they’ve got the cock they’ve dreamed of since they were fifteen sitting on his phone and they have to act like he’s not about to grab their nearest dildo and fuck himself stupid with it.

Keiji >>> Koutarou

Keiji: These are taken very well, Bokuto.

Whoever will be getting them is going to be in for a nice treat.

Could use better lighting in the second picture, but... it’s nonfactor.

Koutarou: OOOOOOOOOOH

UM

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO SOMEONE ELSE

But WOW thank u for the advice (:

Keiji: Ah...

May I ask who? Only out of curiosity.

Koutarou: ATSUMU

Keiji: You’re sending dick pics to Atsumu?

Koutarou: YEAH

BUT HEY ISNT FUNNY WE’RE EVEN NOW :D 

Keiji stared at his phone, then a small snicker escaped from his lips, Koutarou was the worst liar... but he’ll go along with it.

Keiji >>> Koutarou

Keiji: I suppose we are.

I do hope you’ll be successful in your ventures with Atsumu.

Koutarou: OH SAME !!!

Keiji: Last I heard he was crushing on Sakusa though?

Koutarou: oh

Well

Shit

There go my chances I guess !

What am I supposed to do w/ these pics now ):

Keiji: Save them for someone special.

Koutarou: like you???

I wouldn’t care if you used them for 

Stuff

Keiji: Stuff.

Koutarou: Stuff!!!!!!

I already sent you nude owls so LIKE... nude people... it’s the same right? 

People say I’m like an owl ◎▼◎

Keiji: Don’t send me nudes of other people.

Koutarou: I WONT.

Keiji: But... I do like these.

Koutarou: really????

Keiji: Yes.

Koutarou: THEN HAVE FUN WITH THEM!!

ILL

LEAVE YOU TO IT.

🦉🦉🦉

Keiji didn’t realize just how hard he was smiling until Koutarou apparently left him alone with these totally accidental nudes. Poor Atsumu would be missing out on this one, but then did Koutarou take this just for Keiji? 

For the whole point of getting even with them? He knew how embarrassed Keiji felt about sending those pictures to him... and this did track with Koutarou’s overall behavior. Ugh, he was too precious.

Keiji went for one of their smaller vibrators and a fleshy dildo that he kept in his bedside drawer, then shrugged off their pajama pants and boxers. He was already wet from drooling at Koutarou’s dick just minutes earlier and placing the rabbit vibrator directly on his clit had him biting down hard on his cheek.

He knew his body well enough that this was going to be a fast one, when was the last time he was turned on this much by anyone? They left the dildo to the side as he picked up his phone and opened up the photo where Koutarou was holding his cock, he wanted that inside of him now .

Koutarou was a virgin too, so he wouldn’t have any idea how to use a cock that big... Keiji would probably have to guide him through it and knowing Koutarou, he’d be such a good student. The thought of the older, much bigger man slotted between Keiji’s legs, acting a little shy over possibly hurting Keiji and having to be coaxed into fucking them harder...

Keiji moaned Koutarou’s name as he pressed the vibrator right on his clit and their first orgasm of the night shook through them, those pictures were going to give him so much mileage... 

~

Keiji >>> Apathetic Roommates

Keiji: question

Kenma: ?

Keiji: should I sleep with bokuto?

Kenma: yes

Kei: duh

Keiji: ...

I don’t like how fast you answered this

Let me rephrase this

Should I pursue bokuto in a romantic manner?

Kenma: ya

Kei: duh

He’s been crushing on u since high school lol

Kenma: fr he’s so in love w/ u

I have texts as proof

Keiji: no you dont

Kenma: oh yes I do

I’ve been WAITING for the day

But u keep sulking over bitch boy

And I don’t want Bo to get hurt bc u aren’t over him

Keiji: well he’s fucking iwa now so! No more sulking!

Kei: rly???

Keiji: that’s what bokuto told me

Kei: omg

Rintaro told me that he was going to try getting back w/ him

Keiji: WHAT

Kenma: bitch boy’s legacy continues...

Kei: he’s going for the harem route

Keiji: nty

Is anyone else chasing bo then???

Kenma: his fan club?

Kei: every single person at his uni?

Kenma: me, if i was single?

Keiji: keep your slutty cat claws to kuroo.

Kenma: hissss

Kei: I’m locking you out of the house for that one.

Kenma: yeah I deserve it.

~

The locker room was abuzz with chatter as the team filed in after their practice, Koutarou went to retrieve his things for the shower and took a quick glance at his phone to see a notification waiting from Keiji. Now he was smart enough not to repeat the same mistake twice when he saw that a video was attached and the caption was along the lines of, ‘found the owl plush you gave for me as a graduation gift 💞’ .

Something about this didn’t seem very family friendly, or maybe Koutarou’s perverted brain jumped straight to receiving more naked Keiji because that’s the only person who’d been heavily on his mind for the past two weeks. Keiji never deleted the pictures from their chat, nor did they ask Koutarou not to save them so... he’d been using those photos almost every single night since then.

The idea for Koutarou to send his own was originally a joke made by Tetsurou, just so they could be even and Keiji would feel less embarrassed about the situation and Koutarou was happy to run with it. Tetsurou gave him a few tips from his own collection of nudes that he kept on his phone -although he didn’t let Koutarou see any of Kenma’s!- and the gears in his brain were turning.

Much like the incident with Keiji, they didn’t talk about Koutarou’s ‘accidental’ nudes after that night, even if Koutarou was itching to know if Keiji masturbated to them... he implied that he did, but Koutarou wanted the details. This only made the wing spiker more horny because Keiji was thinking about him while touching themselves and not his annoying ex... who’d been coming around often thanks to Hajime.

Well whatever, as long as Keiji was sending pictures and videos that were meant for Koutarou, then all was good... so Koutarou swiveled his head around to make sure no one was paying attention to him before hitting the play button. Kiyoomi was already headed into the showers, Atsumu and Tetsurou were chatting as per usual while grabbing their things, their other teammates were off in their own conversation and such.

Koutarou made sure the volume was muted as the first few seconds of the video started, the camera was set in the direction of Keiji’s bed and Koutarou’s high school jersey was draped over his torso. He’d given that to Keiji on the night before his own graduation, too cowardly to actually confess to Keiji when he knew that his best friend was crushing on Osamu at the time.

Keiji kept it... and took it with them when they moved out of their parents home... and now they were looking so pretty with Koutarou’s name across their shoulders. He held up the oversized gray owl plushie that Koutarou swore looked like him and gave it a chaste kiss before setting it on the bed and- oh no Koutarou can’t watch that in public.

He quickly closed the video as Meian and Tomas were strolling by and scrambled to grab his towel and body soap, then followed them into the showers. He went off straight to one of the further stalls that were empty and got to undressing, his cock already semi-hard just from seeing the beginning of that video.

He pulled his phone out from underneath the towel before turning on the shower and angled it so the device wouldn’t get wet, he was not patient enough to wait until he was back at home because the rest of the boys wanted to get dinner after this. The warming water cascaded down his broad back as he went back to the video and started back where he left off, Keiji mounting the toy like a cute slut.

They lifted the jersey up to show off their navy lace panties hugging their hips, then scooted closer to the edge of the bed so the camera could get a better view of them straddling this owl and riding it. Koutarou never wanted to be a stuffed owl so badly, he needed Keiji’s wet pussy grinding on his cock like that, wanting to hold those gorgeous hips as Keiji rode him .

Koutarou’s hand shot down to jerk off his cock as Keiji bit down on the jersey, freeing their hands to play with their brown, hard nipples as they rocked back and forth on the owl. Fucking hell, Koutarou was hungry to have his mouth on Keiji’s chest, to suck all day on those nubs and leave countless bite marks, proving that Keiji belonged to him and no one else would get their hands on them.

Seeing all of this motion though... Keiji’s hips fucking the plushie, their slender fingers groping their small tits, how flushed Keiji’s beautiful face was while biting on the jersey... Koutarou was cumming before he knew it’d hit him. That had to be the hottest video Koutarou ever laid his eyes on... and there were still three minutes left, Koutarou could probably get it up again within one.

Keiji pushed their hand into their panties to rub on their clit and although Koutarou didn’t have the 4k Ultra Zoom angle of that, just seeing his fingers move fervently inside his panties has Koutarou’s cock twitching back to life. Keiji was doing this for Koutarou... he filmed himself grinding on a fucking owl and cumming on his fingers for Koutarou .

Was that their response to Koutarou’s nudes?

The video came to a close when Keiji hopped off of the bed and pulled down their panties to reveal their perfect pink, soaking wet pussy. Koutarou was drooling as Keiji made a little show of bending over and spreading his lips, making sure Koutarou got to see his tight little hole.

And the video ended.

Koutarou >>> Keiji

Koutarou: JHDFKGHFDJKGX

FJDSKFHJKZ

GHDJKGHFJX????????????

WAS THAT ANOTHER ACCIDENT

Keiji: I see you’re done with practice.

And yeah, my finger slipped.

Oops.

Koutarou: AAAAAAAAAAAAA

FUCK

That was really for me???

Keiji: Yes, Bokuto.

I was in your jersey, after all.

Koutarou: gjkdlgfkdhgjkdhxjfgx

KEIJIIIIIIIIIIIII

YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME JERK OFF TWICE IN THE SHOWER

Keiji: That was my intention, yes.

Koutarou: STOPPPPPPPPP

“Oi, Koko, ya alright in there? We’re going to head out.”

Koutarou nearly dropped his phone at the sound of Atsumu’s voice and gave a quick answer that he’d be out in a jiffy... he just had to take care of this immediately. Another load went down the drain as Keiji launched a full scale invasion on his mind, all of this felt so new to him... and it was, huh.

He did a quick job of cleaning himself off and dressing, then went to meet Atsumu, Kiyoomi, and Inunaki just outside of the gym. Meian apparently had a date to run off to while Tetsurou and Tomas had other errands to run, so it was just those four hitting up their favorite bar.

Koutarou was terribly distracted as he didn’t want to ditch because he was fairly hungry ... yet... Keiji was right there in his phone being an incubi! Who knew Keiji could be so forward... although they obviously had way more experience than Koutarou ever had, so they definitely knew what they were doing when it came to this .

It still blew his mind that Keiji was being this bold with him... he had to ask why.

Koutarou >>> Keiji

Koutarou: can i ask why ur fingers slipped again

Keiji: I wanted to give you a proper payment for your dick photos.

I’ve been thinking about them all week...

Koutarou: omg

U DIDINT HAVE TO PAY ME BACK

Keiji: Should I delete the video then?

Koutarou: NO

NO

NOONONON

DONT

DONT TOUCH

Keiji: You are incredibly adorable, Kou.

Koutarou: NO IMNOT

“Ya havin’ quite the engaging conversation there, Koko?”

Koutarou's head shot up as Atsumu was snickering at him from across the table, Kiyoomi had a mask on, but there was definitely amusement in his dark eyes. Inunaki was taking a gulp of his beer as apparently all the damn attention was on Koutarou now, the one time he didn’t want it...

“I... yes... actually,” Koutarou eyes landed on Kiyoomi, “if Ushiwaka sent you dick pics, you’d think he wants to fuck you, right?”

Atsumu nearly choked on air, Kiyoomi dropped his phone on the floor, Inunaki was cackling like a hyena. 

“... yes, that would be a reasonable assumption.” Kiyoomi answered after a few moments.

“So... would you?” Koutarou asked.

“Um...” Kiyoomi’s gaze briefly flickered to Atsumu who was staring back at him with clear curiosity in his brown eyes, “... I don’t think so? I’m not exactly into randomly hooking up, there has to be an emotional connection there for me to be... interested.”

“Oh, I thought you had a crush on him,” Koutarou said, maybe Hajime was wrong about that one...

“In high school, yes... but I’d require more than a dick picture when it comes to sleeping with anyone.”

“So ya wanna be wined and dined? Didn’t pin ya as the romantic type, Omi-Omi~”

“Don’t get any ideas, Miya.”

Not to sound cocky, but Koutarou is pretty darn sure that Keiji wants his cock either way, Tetsurou would definitely tell him to go for it. 

“Is someone sending you dick pics?” Inunaki asked as Atsumu and Kiyoomi were bickering, flirting, whatever you wanted to call it, “is our cherry boy about to become a man?”

“I think so...” Koutarou grinned, he had to think of a way to truly impress Keiji.

Koutarou >>> Keiji

Koutarou: I’m still out w/ the bros

But I really liked the vid 💕

Keiji: 💕

Koutarou: there’s smth I wanna ask you but... I wanna make you a video in response!!

Keiji: Tonight?

Koutarou: no I still have to think of an idea!!!

It won’t take long though

I hope

Keiji: I don’t mind waiting.

As long as I get to see your cock.

Koutarou: aAAAAA 

“Heeey, nerds, sorry I’m late.”

Koutarou glanced up from his phone to see Rintaro slinking in, he looked like he’d just tumbled out of bed with his hair all mussed up and clothes slightly disheveled... and what was that on his neck?

“You have a nasty bug bite on your neck, Rin,” Koutarou said, “does it hurt?”

“Oh...” Rintaro’s fingers went to touch the mark just under his jaw, “nah, it’s probably nothing, thanks for looking out, Bo.”

“Of course!”

Hm... he’d have to brainstorm with Tetsurou on what to do next...

Keiji >>> Koutarou

Keiji: btw, did you see what I posted on insta?

Koutarou: OH i havent even looked 

Was too busy thinking of uuuuuuu 💞

Keiji: Fair enough 💕

Koutarou tapped out of the text thread and onto the icon for instagram, there were a few dozen notifications seeking his attention as he went off to check out Keiji’s profile. The very first photo was a selfie that Keiji took this morning, he was softly smiling with his messy curls and still sitting in bed, holding the owl plushie up under his neck. 

Koutarou’s eyebrows rose at the caption, it was the very same used for the video he’d been sent, except it listed his name of course. There were multiple comments from friends and such, one particularly from Osamu that said this was lovely to wake up to. 

Koutarou clicked his tongue and went to reply, sure to add a string of cute emojis and exclaim how excited he was that Keiji kept that owl with him. Wait... 

Koutarou >>> Keiji

Koutarou: did u take that before you fucked it???

Keiji: I did.

I was going to wait for you to see it, then send the video, but I got impatient.

Koutarou: klfgjfdlgjldgjfldxjl 

THATS SO HOT U DON’T EVEN KNOW??? 

Keiji: 🥰

Are you getting hard for me again, Kou?

Koutarou: NOT RIGHT NOW 

NO SOTP

DEVIL

Keiji: 😈😈😈

~

Tetsurou >>> BROMATES HAHA... JK UNLESS?

Tetsurou: DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE I WANNA FUUUUUUUUUUUCK

Why iis my boyfriend n TOKYO

FUCK

Hajime: sucks for u

Tetsurou: suck my DICk

Fuck it I’m going up there on friday

Koutarou: OOOO you should surprise him!!

‘Big daddy is here ;)’

Tetsurou: LMAOOOOOOOO how u kno he calls me daddy

Koutarou: bro you’re like super daddy

Tetsurou: tru truuuu

I miss him so MUCHHHHHHHH

Hajime: u should tell him that

Tetsurou: he is

STREAMING

BUSY

WITH WORK

Andi m drinking al one

Wait

HAJIME JOIN EM

Hajime: absolutely not

Tetsurou: coming in ur room as soon as i untangled myself from my sheets

Its not going wel

Koutarou: osamu isn’t coming over to see u??/

Hajime: nah, he had to study

Koutarou: THEN U CAN HELP ME

GET KEIJI HORNY

Tetsurou: brOOOOO

LETS DOI T

Hajime: ......

Tetsurou: KOUTAOUR

SAVE ME

MY BED IS EATING ME

Koutarou: BRT BRO I GOT U

~

Sunday nights were solely reserved for Keiji time, he put aside all of his responsibilities -no fretting over work, school, or chores- in favor of self care and relaxation. He’d gotten out of the bathtub after a long soak, dried himself off, and only donned his fluffy pink robe as he went off to his desk.

Keiji typically ignored social media too, although he would claim that he wasn’t as addicted as his roommates, but he’d been waiting on Koutarou to message him. They’d spent all week teasing their senpai about being so horny for him and making Koutarou the cutest, flustered owl that Keiji wanted to ride the fuck out of.

They were honestly a little disappointed that Tetsurou showed up to their home alone, without Koutarou in his luggage, but seeing how shocked and happy Kenma was offset that quite a bit. Normally Keiji’s thoughts would take him back to Osamu when he saw any happy couples, but instead Koutarou was the one who filled that spot... or, reclaimed it in better words.

Just thinking about what Koutarou may have up his sleeve made Keiji smile as they sat at their desk chair and opened up their laptop to see there was a DM from Osamu awaiting him in discord. This man clearly could not get the hint when Keiji only sent him one word responses and barely bothered to reply half the time, but maybe they could entertain him just this once to see what he wanted.

Keiji hit the call button after asking if Osamu was free to chat and he replied within minutes, so weird coming from the person who made it his life goal to completely ignore Keiji during the last couple months of their relationship. 

“Hey darlin’, how ya feelin’ this evening?”

Keiji knew if he took this call just three weeks ago, the sound of that kansai dialect would have them weak in the knees and drowning in their panties, but now it just irked Keiji.

“Just got out of the bath, planned on doing some reading for the rest of the night, how about you?”

Keiji’s reading list consisted of pulling open his favorite fanfiction site because they were not in the mood for anything professionally published, he just wanted his blorbos rubbing their funky bits together. There were a number of updates awaiting him too, his current favorite being a yakuza and accidentally acquired sugar baby fanfiction, wouldn’t it be amusing if Koutarou was a yakuza?

He’s way too soft for that life.

“Ya know, what I usually do on Sundays... forcing myself to relax instead of workin’, that’s really stuck with me, babe.”

“Just like you stuck with me, eh?” Keiji smoothly replied as Osamu let out a soft chuckle.

“Exactly like that... look, I really didn’t mean to push ya away, I was just so stressed out from opening the restaurant and everything that comes with that, ya know?” Osamu at least sounded sincere, there was more emotion in his voice this time around than when he dropped Keiji, “I miss ya.”

“Miss me so much that you’ve moved onto Iwaizumi?” Keiji went over to click the link in their email about a fic update, but their phone buzzing with a notification distracted them.

“... Kuroo can’t keep his mouth shut, huh? Anyway, there’s nothing between us, it’s just casual,” Osamu said as Keiji tapped the notification to see that Koutarou was live on tik tok, “ya don’t see me getting huffy about whoever you’ve been messing with.”

“I stopped talking to other guys once we were doing... whatever it was, it doesn’t exactly feel great when you’re fucking one of my friends and trying to get with me,” Keiji went to open up tik tok on his phone and kept the volume low enough so hopefully the microphone on the laptop didn’t pick it up. Koutarou was in the gym with a couple thousand viewers tuning in, he was probably going to do one of his workout tutorials or something, Keiji honestly didn’t pay attention to a single word that came out of his mouth.

Koutarou was rather cheerful as per usual, so happy to greet his audience that was definitely thirsting over his greek god body. His tank top was thin and cut low at the sides so there was plenty of sideboob action going, along with his gym shorts being short enough to showcase his thick, juicy thighs.

“... -were drunk and Iwaizumi was all over me,” oh right, Osamu was talking, “it was just a one time thing, ya got nothing to worry your pretty head about.”

“Fine, then you want to get back together?” Keiji asked as he watched Koutarou chatting away while lifting some dumbbells, his gaze drawn to those flexing biceps and forearms... how would they feel crushing him? Getting held down by powerful arms and fucked hard by that massive cock that Keiji knows Koutarou is packing, fuck his thighs squeeze together in just mere anticipation.

They would really have to train Koutarou in how to fuck them too, that excited him even more... would it be weird to fuck himself to Koutarou just... working out? It wouldn’t be the nastiest thing they’d gotten off to, Koutarou was being so pure... he was that tik tok gym bro who gave the most positive advice with that beaming smile.

And that turned Keiji on so much . 

“Babe?”

“Huh? Sorry... I kind of zoned out,” Keiji murmured, they then went to send a message in the chat, not even sure if Koutarou would see it. Maybe they should DM him, but who knows when the older man would see that either... god dammit.

“I said I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship again... I have a lot on my plate right now, but I do want somethin’ with ya,” Osamu said, “I just miss...”

“My pussy?” Keiji replied, getting a choked noise from Osamu, “I know that’s all you’ve come crawling back to me for.”

“Oi, ya don’t have to be mean about it baby,” Osamu replied, “but what can I say... I miss making ya scream on my cock.”

Koutarou would make them scream louder...

“Go on, don’t stop there.”

“Yeah? I knew that’d get ya going sweetheart.”

Going right into Koutarou’s DMs, sure.

Keiji only had to wait a few moments for Koutarou to hear the sound of someone DMing him and went off to check just who it was. His smile turned even more excited once he saw that it was Keiji and he soundly announced that he’d have to cut the stream short.

Hm? Keiji didn’t want that...

MSBY_BK >>> LittleOwl

MSBY_BK: are you free rn???

I wanna vid chat u

LittleOwl: I’m always free for you.

MSBY_BK: :DDDD 

“I have a call to take, it’s work related, I’ll catch you later.”

Osamu wasn’t given any time to answer as Keiji hung up the discord call and answered Koutarou’s video chat request. 

“Hey, hey, hey! I was hoping you’d see me live,” Koutarou grinned, there was sweat rolling down his neck that Keiji wanted to lick right off, “I... actually have like half an hour left in here, Hajime did me a favor and I got this room to myself.”

“Ah...” Keiji said as Koutarou went to sit down just in front of the wall length mirror, “what do you plan to do now that we’re alone?”

“Um... well now that you’re here...” Koutarou’s shyness returned, “... is that the same robe from the pictures?”

“Mmm... it’s my favorite one,” Keiji angled the phone just above him to show Koutarou, he then pulled the sash and opened up the robe to reveal his bare body beneath, “I was soaking in the tub earlier.”

“Fuck... fuck Keiji, you’re so...” Koutarou’s vocabulary failed him as Keiji smiled for the camera, letting their other hand run along their collarbones, small tits, circling a nipple, “you’re killing me, baby.”

“Then touch yourself, show me what I do to you, senpai,” Keiji cooly responded as Koutarou cursed again, he was fast to pull out his hard cock and gave it a few rough strokes, “god, you’re so big , and you’ve never fucked anyone with that?”

“Never... I’ve wanted you for so long, but... I guess I was too nervous,” Koutarou said, Keiji couldn’t see his facial expression as the camera was focused right on his cock, “but now we’re doing this... does that mean you like me too?”

“I do,” Keiji could fully admit to that, “I like you a lot, Bokuto, I especially like how your cock looks fucking your hand like that... would you fuck my cunt that fast?”

“Oh my god, how do you say that shit,” Koutarou whined and Keiji couldn’t help giggling at his despair, “a-and I would... if you would let me... I’d be so good for you, babe.”

“You’re already doing so well for me, I’m aching to have your fat cock in me...” Keiji lowered their hand to rub their sensitive clit, Koutarou’s eyes widened at the sight, “I wish you came here with Tetsurou... I could be riding you right now...”

“Yeah, I’m fucking kicking myself hard in the ass right now,” Koutarou said, “look at you, fuck you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“All for you, Bokuto... this pussy is yours,” Keiji said, “next time we see each other, want you to fuck me, okay? I’ll teach you how.”

“Please Keiji...” Koutarou babbled, his semen soon spilled out from his cock and covered his hand, what Keiji wouldn’t do to be able to lick that. 

“Good boy, cumming all for me... I’m close too...” Keiji moaned as those golden eyes were staring back at them through the screen, only Koutarou could make them cum this easily, “ah, Koutarou...!”

It took Keiji a few seconds to recover from that orgasm rocking through their body, but Koutarou was still here... still watching them... and right back on his dick.

“Do you really have the time left to crank out another?”

“... shit, not really,” Koutarou blurted out, “uh... you’ll be up when I get back home, yeah?”

“Yes~”

“Cool! Give me like fifteen... or ten, bye babe!”

Keiji buried his face into their hands, he felt like a fucking giddy lovestruck teenager all over again. They were going to have so much fun tonight.

~

Keiji >>> Iwaizumi

Keiji: iwaaaaa

Iwaizumi: akaashiiiiii

Sup

Keiji: ok so like 

I’m just curious how serious you were with Osamu?

(dw, I don’t want him back)

Iwaizumi: ooooh

Not the question I was expecting to wake up to lol

Did Kuroo tell you we were fucking?

Keiji: Bokuto, actually.

Iwaizumi: ahhh

Uhhh

I guess it’s like fwb? But I’m really into him.

So it might be more.

But I feel like there’s a reason you’re asking this.

Keiji: he was hitting me up last night

And said there was nothing between you two.

I don’t want you winding up hurt or mixed into some bullshit yk?

Iwaizumi: ughhhhhh

Why does this always happen to me

Thanks for telling me

FUCK

Keiji: I’m sorry ): I had to tell you as soon as possible

Iwaizumi: nah I appreciate it

I can always depend on you to keep it straight w/ me.

Keiji: 💕

Iwaiumi: 💕💕💕

Well, that was a fun fling while it lasted 🤪

~

Keiji, Kenma, and Shouyou left the train and went straight to the stadium, all dressed from head to toe to MSBY gear like the loyal fanboys they were. Keiji was in Koutarou’s jersey, Kenma had Tetsurou’s, and Shouyou was drowning in Meian’s, they were ready to surprise their best friends slash boyfriend as they hadn’t said anything about coming.

Keiji practically had to lie to Koutarou about being too busy with work and they felt awful about it, but knew his owl would be absolutely thrilled to see them cheering him on in the stands. He wants to say he’d been waiting on this for weeks, but in reality ever since they first saw Koutarou on the court, Keiji fell for him at first sight and yearned to have him in every possible way.

Would they end up as boyfriends after this... Koutarou was already texting them like one and Keiji wasn’t opposed to the label, the only one who had his heart now was his senpai as he lost all interest in Osamu. Fooling around with Koutarou gave him the clarity that he didn’t know he needed, Osamu was nice enough to be with and a good boyfriend when it mattered... but everything felt so different with Koutarou.

He was the one who was permanently on the back of Keiji’s mind, the one they’d be willing to drop anyone for just to have a chance with him. Their crush on Koutarou never quit, it was only repressed when the older one graduated and Keiji wound up trying to forget about him with Osamu.

This all felt so right , like all the pieces were fitting together perfectly.

The trio of them stopped just a few feet away from the Onigiri Miya stand and there was Osamu, serving up all kinds of onigiri for the people in line. Keiji had to admit to themselves that the smell alone had their stomach grumbling, but god if they didn’t want to speak a single word to Osamu.

Kenma was happy passing on it, meanwhile Shouyou eagerly volunteered to handle the food delivery, they could always depend on the sunshine chibi to do their dirty deeds. Keiji and Kenma were able to sneak on by without Osamu noticing and went off to find their seats, thanks to Kenma’s boyfriend privileges they were able to sit fairly close to the court.

The players were all warming up before the match, Keiji’s searching eyes landing right on their prize... Koutarou receiving a volleyball with those thick arms, it’s really been too long since they’d seen each other in person. Keiji did think it was odd that their best friend was constantly occupied whenever he came out to see Osamu, but given recent revelations, it all made sense.

Koutarou looked amazing, handsome, gorgeous, fuckable, edible, daddy take me on the waxed floor right now in front of this entire crowd of people. Keiji bit his lips with a soft smile as they couldn’t take their eyes off of Koutarou, he was incredibly sexy when he was focused and all his practice spikes were turning out so well... he was ready to smash through this other team.

And Keiji once they won... heheh.

Tetsurou came up to him to give him a slap on the back and pointed right out to where their group was sitting, the recognition in Koutarou’s eyes was delightful to see in real time as he sprinted over and up the stairs. He was like a full grown bull chasing the red waving flag that was his Keiji and Keiji met their star with a tight hug that nearly knocked them off their feet.

“Kaaaaashi! You made it!” Koutarou said as he pulled away for just a moment to examine the jersey Keiji was wearing, “and you’re wearing my number! Babe...”

“I’m sorry to have lied to you about being busy, we wanted this to be a surprise,” Keiji loosely wrapped his fingers around Koutarou’s neck, “I don’t think I could’ve stayed away from you any longer without going insane.”

“Oh my god , same! I was planning on riding up to Tokyo this weekend, but now you’re here!” Koutarou grinned, “we’re definitely going to win, just for you!”

“Hmm... I have something that may help in aiding your success,” Keiji said, Koutarou looked back at them with cute curiosity before Keiji closed the gap between them, planting a soft kiss on his lips, “for good luck.”

“Aka... Akaaaaahi!” Koutarou’s face was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears, “that... that was my first kiss.”

“Really?” Keiji asked with mild disbelief in their tone, but Koutarou just nodded like a puppy, “... cute, let me give you your second and third, then.”

Koutarou didn’t hesitate to lean back into Keiji’s space, his hands settling comfortably on his kouhai’s waist as their lips touched and Keiji savoring every second of this, he was going to be all of Koutarou’s firsts tonight. It took Tetsurou grabbing the back of Koutarou’s jersey to get them off of each other and Keiji couldn’t help snickering at the dreamlike state their owl was in. 

“We’re gonna win this for our boyfriends!”

“Hell yeah, bro.”

Oh... well, takes care of that.

Three exciting sets went by faster than Keiji expected, their attention mainly on Koutarou, but he was also impressed with the stellar blocking by Tetsurou and of course Atsumu’s sets never failed to deliver. It only made Keiji wish he could see all of Koutarou’s in person, as opposed to streaming them or catching the replays when he had the free time to.

The thought of making frequent trips to Osaka just to support and watch Koutarou play volleyball though... it wasn’t as bad as they may think, he was probably up for it for the sake of love itself. Ah... he could find a way to squeeze in at least one or two trips a month into his schedule, he did it previously for Osamu until their relationship turned sour. 

Their group decided to wait on the team just outside of the gym as they’d be busy with changing in the locker room and possibly whatever post-game interviews, if any. Keiji was itching to their boyfriend now though... boyfriend... Koutarou was their boyfriend , to be able to say that in full confidence had them feeling giddy.

“Hey, he’s looking over here.”

Kenma’s quiet voice had Keiji glanced up from his phone to see that indeed, Osamu took notice of the three and Suna was standing by him. It was no secret to anyone that they dated in high school and maybe now that Iwaizumi was privy to Osamu just playing with him, those two could be happy together.

Keiji was intending on just pretending to be busy with his phone when Osamu stepped forward and oh fuck, what did he want-

“Baaaabe!” they heard Koutarou’s voice to the side of them before finding themselves wrapped up in a hug and lifted off the floor, “I just took the fastest shower and ran away from the interview guy! We have to bail before they find us.”

“Lead the way, Bokuto,” Keiji giggled as Koutarou spun him around once before his feet touched the ground and a big hand was linking with their own.

“Oh and um, I called you my boyfriend earlier... is that okay? Tetsu was kinda teasing me about it then Tsum-Tsum was like you have to make sure and-”

“Yes, we’re boyfriends...”

“Cool! Cool, you’re cool, so cool,” Koutarou babbled as Keiji smiled wider at his silly, flustered antics, “we were going to get dinner, but I kind of wanted to be alone with you?”

“For what reason?” Keiji managed to sound innocent as Koutarou opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, the blush becoming prominent on his cheeks.

“To... kiss and stuff?”

“Stuff?” Keiji leaned in closer, their lips reaching Koutarou’s ear, “you want to fuck my pussy, don’t you, Kou~ta~rou?”

The noise that Koutarou made was downright adorable, he just squeezed Keiji’s hand extra hard and stalked off to where Tetsurou and Kenma were already several steps ahead. It seemed Shouyou was going out with the other team members for celebration drinks and perhaps a chance with Meian’s dick as dessert, god bless his tiny, horny ass.

Keiji teased their boyfriend on the ride back to their apartment, a firm hand stroking his thigh, dirty words in his ear, Koutarou was rendered useless with Keiji’s assault on him. The sexual tension in the car only rose as Kenma had the same idea to tease Teetsurou while he was trying his damndest to pay attention to the road, this spurned Keiji on further to leave hot kisses on Koutarou’s neck and palm the huge bulge in his shorts.

It’s a feat that Koutarou didn’t cum right then.

The couples went their separate ways as Keij soon found himself bouncing back on Koutarou’s mattress with his boyfriend climbing right on top of him. Their lips melting together in a rough, passionate kiss that was fueled by years of want , of all this pining they’d both done for each other.

It was like a dream come true, Keiji finally got their captain in bed.

“I... I don’t really know what I’m doing... can you tell me how to make you feel good?” Koutarou was so earnest with asking, Keiji had to give him another light kiss on the lips. 

“What do you want to do to me? I’m cool with whatever is on your mind, darling.”

“Darling...” Koutarou repeated, “I like that, I like being your darling.”

“My sweet, darling, handsome baby,” Keiji said as Koutarou was loving each pet name they stacked on, “I remember you said that you wanted to eat me out... is that still true?”

“Yes,” Koutarou quickly answered, “I wanna taste all of you to be honest... but especially there.”

“If you can’t say it,” Keiji brought a lone finger under Koutarou’s chin, “I’m not letting your mouth anywhere near my cunt.”

“Kaaaashi,” Koutarou whined as Keiji just smiled in amusement, “... I want to taste your pussy...”

“Then get my pants off.”

Koutarou didn’t need to be told twice as he went to strip Keiji of their pants and underwear, tossing them somewhere on his dirty floor. Koutarou had dimmed the lighting before jumping Keiji just to set the atmosphere and seeing Keiji laid out with the soft light on their body, their legs spread open for him.

“Can I take off your top too? Is that okay?” Koutarou asked.

“Mmm... it’s fine if it’s you,” Keiji said, “... plus you’ve seen everything anyway, whether I had a choice or not.”

“Well yeah , but that doesn’t give me free reign... it still might make you uncomfortable and I don’t want that,” Koutarou sounded so sweet and thoughtful despite having Keiji half naked in front of him, “so are you really sure?”

“Yes, I feel incredibly comfortable in my own skin with you... even more so than with other people I’ve slept with,” Keiji admitted as they went to tug the jersey off, “I’m surprised you don’t want me to keep it on.”

“We’ve got all night... and tomorrow, and Sunday for me to fuck you in that,” Koutarou confidently responded, “I wanna see all of you and not just through my phone screen.”

“... you’re so cheesy,” Keiji murmured as they pulled the jersey off of their arms and threw it elsewhere, feeling a little self conscious as Koutarou devoured them with his eyes. 

“Can I...” Koutarou slid his hands up Keiji’s sides, his thumb resting just underneath the mound of Keiji’s breasts, “... suck on them?”

“Pervert...” Keiji commented as Koutarou pouted, “yes... yes you can.”

Koutarou’s grin was victorious as he ducked down to squeeze Keiji’s tits, then ran his tongue over their nipple before latching his lips onto it. Keiji always had mixed feelings about his chest, thankful that it was small enough to be non-issue, yet they were still present.

Koutarou was enjoying himself though, the happiness in his golden gaze cast aside those ugly thoughts for now. Koutarou took his time sucking on each nipple, playing and tugging on the other when his mouth wasn’t giving it attention.

He was so cute...

His mouth eventually descended to kiss its way down Keiji’s torso, their hip bones and waist line, then Koutarou hovered just above their waiting pussy. His eyes flickered up in a silent question, what am I supposed to do, Keiji?

Keiji brought their hand downwards to use their fingers to spread their lips open, feeling even more exposed from Koutarou watching them like a hawk, “... you want to lick right here... my clit.”

Keiji hoped they sounded more confident than they felt right now, the butterflies in his stomach all took that moment to leave their roost and flutter about as Koutarou leaned in closer. His hands were resting on Keiji’s inner thighs, keeping them spread apart as if Keiji had any intention of closing his legs to Koutarou... but it was hot knowing that the older man could possibly have Keiji at mercy like this...

In the future, Akaashi Keiji, thirsty bitch.

Koutarou gave a few cautious, experimental licks to their clit, seeing how Keiji reacted by going to grab his shoulder for some sort of purchase, “just like that, keep going baby.”

Koutarou soaked in Keiji’s deep, shaky voice and didn’t stop once he got back to licking them, he was quite the fast learner as he took in Keiji’s quiet moans and subtle reactions too. 

“You can use your fingers too, though... I’ll still need stimulation on my clit to... fuck , to cum...” Keiji dug his fingers in Koutarou’s shoulder, his hips gently moving against Koutarou’s mouth, they felt so close, just having Koutarou between their legs was enough to get them there. Koutarou followed Keiji’s suggestion, easing one of his fingers into Keiji’s warm, wet hole and watching to see if Keiji would experience any discomfort, but the younger one just rocked forward on that sole finger.

“More... you can give me more, I can take it like a big boy,” Keiji said as he heard a curse from Koutarou, “fuck my pussy with your fingers, daddy.”

“ Keiji !” Koutarou moaned, just honest to god moaned against his clit as he introduced a second finger, “you’re going to be the end of me.” 

“Are you going to cum in your shorts from sucking on my clit and being called daddy?” Keiji teased, their hand moving into Koutarou’s soft hair, the shower must’ve washed out all the gel, “I think that’d be very hot.”

“God I don’t know if I’ll live enough for that, babe,” Koutarou began to say as Keiji pushed his mouth back down.

“Less talking, more sucking me off,” Keiji’s cool command had Koutarou groaning, but he didn’t stop as his fingers fucked into Keiji’s cunt and his tongue ran over their sensitive clit, “I’m almost there... you going to lick me clean too?”

“Mmm...” Koutarou’s answer came in getting a third finger inside of Keiji’s soaking hole and essentially letting his kouhai grind against his face, he was so submissive it was... awakening several things in Keiji that he’d need to think about later.

Keiji’s fingers curled tight in Koutarou’s hair as their orgasm crashed through them, his arousal gushed onto Koutarou’s hand and those fingers didn’t stop thrusting into him either, not until Keiji whined for him to stop.

“... good, you did so good, darling.”

Koutarou hummed at the praise, then pulled his fingers out to lick up Keiji’s cum and surged forward to lay a kiss on their lips, it was nice tasting themselves on their boyfriend’s tongue. They stayed like this for a few moments, just lazily kissing as Keiji was pressed back on the pillows, Koutarou’s hand wandering off to fondle their breasts and tug at their nipples.

“Did you want to stop here, Bokuto?”

“Koutarou... just... call me Koutarou, we’re dating and all so...” Koutarou said as Keiji nodded in response, “... I wanted to let you rest for a sec, then I got lost in kissing you again... but if you want to... I’d like to fuck you.”

“You have condoms?” 

“I did! I bought some just yesterday,” Koutarou went to dig in his drawer to pull out the brand new box of unopened condoms, “I’m pretty sure I know what to do here.”

“Oh yeah? Real expert now once you’ve eaten a pussy once.”

Koutarou’s cheeks still turned a soft pink at Keiji’s dirty mouth as he went to get the box opened and pulled out a foil package, “... I don’t know if I’ll last that long. It’s you .”

“What did you say earlier, we had Friday, Saturday... Sunday? My pussy is here for your pleasure... Koutarou.”

“Say that again.”

Keiji pushed themselves up to throw their arms around Koutarou’s shoulders, bringing their lips just inches away from their boyfriend, “I’m all yours, here to please... to serve you... to be used like a fuck toy, you don’t have to be gentle with me.”

“Then... get on your stomach, that’s the best position to fuck into you deeply, yeah?”

“Yeah... and I do want to feel every inch of you inside of me, daddy~”

Koutarou pressed a harsh kiss to Keiji’s lips, his tongue immediately delving into Keiji’s mouth once it opened and wow , it was actually getting difficult to match his sudden uptick in aggression. Koutarou’s fingers gripped Keiji’s hips, pulling him right into his lap and trapping that huge cock between them, Keiji had to snake his hand down to get a touch, to stroke that massive cock that’d be inside of him soon enough.

“You know, I think I like you calling me daddy...” Koutarou murmured between their kisses, “it’s still kinda weird... but it turns me on so fucking much, baby.”

“It’s because you want to be my daddy, you want to take care of me and spoil me and treat me like daddy’s little boy,” Keiji’s mouth running along with his hand working Koutarou had the older one moaning his name, “is daddy going to fuck me or cum all over my hand?”

“Oh I’m fucking you alright,” Koutarou nearly growled as Keiji was hoisted up and turned onto their stomach, they eagerly went to rise their ass into the air too. The sound of the condom packet being torn had Keiji vibrating with anticipation, they scooped up a pillow to hold just as they felt large hands playing with their ass.

Squeezing, groping, kneading it... Koutarou had a thing for admiring beauty before wrecking it. Keiji wiggled their ass as a sign of impatience, getting a snicker from Koutarou that was soon followed by the head of his cock finally pressing into their needy hole.

Keiji fucked himself with the biggest dildo they owned just a couple days ago -for Koutarou’s viewing pleasure-, but absolutely nothing could compare to the real deal... a fat, hot cock sliding down the hilt. Koutarou was still for a moment, probably trying not to bust within five seconds of thrusting into his boyfriend, very cute of him... Keiji could probably wait.

“You feel so amazing... Keiji,” Koutarou breathed out as he bent over Keiji, then placed a few kisses along their shoulder blades, “can I hold your hand?”

“You don’t have to ask for that...” now it was Keiji’s turn for his cheeks to catch heat, he then let out of the pillow with his left hand and Koutarou’s fingers were fast to entwine with their own.

“I want to though... and you tightened around me when I did,” Keiji could envision the smirk on Koutarou’s face, “... I’m going to move now, but I’m really... god , Keiji... you’re so perfect.”

“You are too, Kou, I love how full you make me, I’ve never felt this fucking stuffed-’”

“Stop!” Koutarou nearly cried as Keiji chuckled under his breath, “I mean... don’t stop, but just give me a break baby.”

“Yes, yes... go on, fuck me.”

Koutarou squeezed Keiji’s hand, then began to rock his hips inside of him, a steady pace soon being set as Keiji was happy to take whatever was given to them. Koutarou’s weight felt heavy, but so comforting on them as they were getting fucked, they could lay here for the rest of their days just like this.

“So tight... so good ,” Koutarou was saying whatever came to his mind as he dragged his cock out and slammed in, getting Keiji to make those sweet noises as well. He seemed to be paying enough attention to hit that spot that had Keiji bucking their hips backwards and aiming right for it again.

“There... don’t stop, daddy please .”

Koutarou’s hand slid from Keiji’s hip to rub his fingers on their clit and Keiji really wasn’t expecting that as Koutarou fucked harder into him, he was feeling so sensitive there.

“Come on baby, you going to cum on daddy’s cock? Get it all messy?” 

“God yes ,” Keiji cried as they rocked back on Koutarou’s cock, the hand on their clit pushing them right over the edge. 

Koutarou bit down on Keiji’s shoulder as he quickly filled up the condom, bit of a tiny shame that Keiji wasn’t getting all of Koutarou’s seed inside of them. He’d have to look into taking birth control again for the sake of getting creampied.

“That was the... best ever...” Koutarou mused as all his weight sank onto Keiji’s back. He could suffocate here, that was fine.

~

Koutarou refused to let Keiji go as they were waiting on the train to arrive, pretty much mirroring Tetsurou and Kenma just beside them. Shouyou was rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, chatting away with them about volleyball or food, Keiji really wasn’t paying attention.

He was going to miss Koutarou... although they’d already planned for the older one to visit Tokyo in a couple weeks, it’d only be fair if they took turns visiting each other. Keiji was positive this’d work out much better compared to their last relationship, there was just a... possessive, excited energy that came with Koutarou.

“You’ll text me the whole ride, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“And you’ll tell me when you get home?”

“Yes, darling~”

“ And ... you’ll fuck yourself with your favorite toy while thinking of my cock?”

“... yes, Koutarou.”

Ah... Koutarou was getting bold... good .

[gatitties]

Doggo

─ Dbd x gn!teen!reader

─ Summary: a demogorgon and a dog, the same in your eyes

─ warnings: none

1 < 2 > 3 

“For God's sake Steve, it's not that complicated to hold a ‘mirror’”

“It is when you're being chased by a killer, even more so when it's the fucking Demogorgon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the worried mutterings of the boy who was holding up a piece of broken glass so you could get on with your business. What the hell was so important that you had to stand up in the middle of a trial? Well, your eyeliner took precedence over being killed, and since you helped Steve get away from the killer, he was forced to hold the piece of glass for you to finish your makeup.

You had a good defense, your self-esteem could only improve with the eyeliner on, which would mean a better performance in your purposes, basically you guaranteed the escape ten percent more safety and you had faster generators.

“Hurry up, he's on top of us!”

You finished just as a growl was heard, the boy ran ahead of you and you followed him knocking the pallet out of the hut just as the Demogorgon was pouncing to attack, that's why the wooden planks didn't last a second, a chase started though it didn't towards you, apparently the monster had a certain grudge against Steve. You shrugged, jumping towards any nearby generator, with your new state of mind you managed to activate it in a couple of minutes, just enough to return to a chase in which this time you were the prey.

No matter how long you've been here, you'd always get tired of playing cat and mouse very quickly, normally you'd let them hook you, but you promised to help out a little more in the trials so you looked for other options to get rid of the monster without passing him to another one of your mates, the last thing you needed right now is to stress poor Dwight more.

You looked around your stage for something, a rock, a toolbox, a flashlight left on the ground... there was nothing really useful, so at the last moment you grabbed the first thing on the ground, a stick. You waved it to hit it but you miscalculated when you noticed that you only attacked the air, although after that you didn't feel like you were hit, so when you opened your eyes you found the Demogorgon looking ─or so you assumed since he doesn't have eyes─ at the stick, you gasped covering your mouth, holding back small laughs.

You swung the stick back and forth without actually throwing it, this just made the killer sit up, intently following the object you were shaking in the air with his head, needless to say, the result of that game was a complete success, as maybe not for Quentin because he had overslept and got hooked twice in a row in the beginning, but at least Steve, Dwight and you got away with barely a hang up.

There was a bad part of this whole victory, The entity was not very happy with the assassin's performance, knowing that you were behind this beforehand, she decided to give you both a little punishment.

All the survivors were startled when the Demogorgon jumped out of nowhere, knocking you to the ground as he crushed you with his huge body, slobbe dripping from his head or mouth? whatever, the point is that The Entity made him behave more like a canine and aren't the adorable little dogs faithful? Of course, and who was the one who played with a monster from another dimension as if he were a puppy? Yes, you had to play animal shelter caretaker and you wouldn't be upset if it wasn't for how protective he was of his 'owner'.

Did you want to talk to Feng Min about video games? The Demogorgon's claws pulled you away as he growled. Did you want to bet blood points with Ace that Claudette and Jake would end up together? More growling and biting attempts Did you just want to bother Tapp with stupid meme questions about Criminal Minds, Castle, or Hawaii5-0? Don't even think about it, your guard dog had to keep you safe from everyone.

The Entity enjoyed being the winner this time seeing how irritated you were, but the fun was short lived when you decided to take advantage of the situation, it was easier to play pranks on the survivors! Kate has scolded you so many times this week for pretending the Demo attacked you, you gave Dwight and Claudette a mini heart attack for every time you did. It was so much easier to annoy Jake, it was like he had two sphinxes staring at him for a whole day, not to mention Steve's shrill screams, not even Nancy was as uptight as he was, he got a new nickname from you, pussy.

Without a doubt the funniest thing was recording the Demo in a static position while you put dupsted in the background, or when you sometimes mounted on his back and he ran aimlessly, although you discovered that in the fog there were certain hostile creatures, blocked from the camps, but dangerous, you almost died outside of a game, which scared the others a lot, even the Demogorgon because he lived that moment by your side, if it wasn't for him you would surely be dead. No one had ever died outside of a trial, but you doubted the perception of death, you were sure that you would return to the camp as if nothing happened if you ever leave without anyone noticing, something that you are already planning for the future.

Apparently the discovery of something new did not like The Entity very much and decided that the state of the Demo would return to his normal behavior, it ruined some fun for you but you would find another way to spend your time here.

“Maaaan how boring, now I have dependency on a monster that pretended to be a dog.”

You complained, resting your back against a log a little away from the campfire, you closed your eyes trying to relax, but you opened them when you felt something slimy in your hand, you shrank on the spot but quickly recovered when you saw how Demo had left a stick with slobber next to your hand, you eyed it suspiciously silently until he made a gurgling noise to spur you on. You smiled mischievously when you noticed that despite the fact that the killer was initially influenced to behave like a protective canine, now he did it for the pleasure of spending time with you, anyway, the killers' camp was somewhat boring for him, he prefers to play with you.

And speaking of killers... maybe it's time you paid one of your visits.

[sssrha]

transcription of slides under the cut:

[SLIDE 1] the vibes ao3’s top 9 mdzs ships give me (a really stupid thing i made on a lazy saturday)

[SLIDE 2] wangxian: the wholesome canon relationship (with a hint of spice)

ok maybe calling the union between a demonic cultivator and a secret sex fiend “wholesome” isnt exactly accurate…but that’s where the “hint of spice” comes in

other than that tho? i remember seeing a meme somewhere about wangxian and sangcheng and wangxian was described as “domestic gays with a house and a white picket fence and two kids” and honestly? yes 

not that they cant be freaky. id say their particular brand of freakiness is vaguely surrealist suburban horror. make of that what you will

[SLIDE 3] xicheng: either its “pair the spares” or just about trauma

their dynamic is 500% “karen/enabling husband” but like in a good way

objectively the best-dressed couple you will ever meet. like seriously why are you even trying? theyve got you beat

jc would own a flower shop and punch you in the face for saying a single bad thing about his flowers. lxc would own a tattoo parlor and hand you a lollipop and tell you how proud he is of you for not crying while he gave you a tattoo

they dont strike me as a “every evening we relax and watch the sunset” type of relationship B U T every other week they go stargazing with a detailed map of the night sky

[SLIDE 4] xiyao: either a) the angst of betraying/being betrayed or b) the angst of killing/being killed

high society gays. they would both unironically wear tuxedos to a mcdonalds. lxc would see it as a fun couples thing and jgy would do it to assert his dominance

i swear they would be among the smiliest of the major couples. only one of them would give you a happy smile

dont mess with them. no like dont mess with any of the couples but so far jgy is the first one who would make your life living hell and keep you around long enough to suffer the consequences

[SLIDE 5] sangcheng: being simultaneously over- and underestimated

i saw a meme about sangcheng and wangxian where sangcheng was described as something along the lines of “wine aunt and vodka uncle” and honestly? yes

they’re both human disasters. nhs would have various splotches of color on his clothes and you cant tell if it was intentional or if theyre actually stains. jc is very neat and organized but will have a mental breakdown at the slightest inconvenience

sometimes they just sit down across from each other and. cry. its how they bond

idk why it popped into my head but they’re both ace Because I Said So

[SLIDE 6] xuexiao: cute domesticity but also murder

i refuse to believe that xy is anything but unhinged in every universe. whether or not thats a good thing is up to you

xy could and would murder you in your sleep and not feel bad about it until xxc told him off. even then he might still decide it was worth it

xxc doesnt exactly know about The Murder Stuff(TM) but he knows some shit is off but he trusts xy enough to not comment on it

they would meet and hook up in a bar and mutually decide that they may as well stay together for the rest of their lives the next morning

[SLIDE 7] xuanli: the token straights (but also? theyre really cute???)

i did not expect them to be as cute as they were but here i am

anyway jyl has jzxuan wrapped around her little finger and shes just too nice to use that to her advantage

if jyl asked jzxuan for some chocolate jzxuan would just buy her the entire hershey company and forget to give her an actual chocolate bar and jyl is too sweet to actually say anything about it

they would definitely have like 20 children. theyd fucking love being parents. the moment having another child became dangerous theyd start adopting left and right. theyre rich they can afford it and their hearts are big enough for all their kids so why would they not?

[SLIDE 8] songxiao: childhood friends to lovers AND perfect power couple

i know they have more nuance than this but i cant help but think of them as The Perfect Couple(TM)

not shipping-wise!! i mean like. theyre both law-abiding citizens. their house looks like a model house. theyre dressed super neat and handsomely. they both know cpr and first aid and one of them is a lawyer and the other is an award winning writer. idk who is who but yk.

they are who people call to deal with problems instead of the police and they delight in that fact. that is what i mean by them being The Perfect Couple(TM)

[SLIDE 9] chengxian: disasters through and through

uhh i am going to be spending the entirety of this slide ignoring the fact that i personally consider them siblings

they would live in a dingy studio apartment in the heart of a city and theyd both never be home

theyre both super fucking rich but theyd never have any money on hand so dont be surprised if they just starve out on the street one day because theyre just that stupid

they collectively have the self esteem of rotting cabbage but theyre keeping themselves and each other alive purely out of spite and sheer force of will

[SLIDES 10] nielan: childhood friends to lovers AND himbo power couple

psst heres a secret: neither of them are actually himbos

H O W E V E R they both 500% pretend they are. they intentionally act as stupid as possible just for the fun of it

the best part is when they stop acting stupid when something important happens. crouching-moron-hidden-badass at its finest

also the older brother energy is overflowing. it does not matter who you are or how old you are. if you meet them then youre going to walk away with two new big brothers

[SLIDES 11] the end (unless i gather the willpower to make a part 2)

[ashasmonsters]

The Skateboarder

Female reader x Female orc (Morn)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: brief alcohol, stupid memes

Words: 9k

Morn reached between the legs of some intertwined partygoers, retrieved a beer from the strategically placed cooler, then opened it on the strike plate of the living room door. Some of it foamed out and fell on the carpet with the bottle cap but she didn't seem to care. The owners of the sorority house didn't care either.

"...so yeah, she said I stank and got up and left." Morn finished her tale of an attempted one-night stand.

"She didn't even touch you yet?" You asked, leaning in close so she could hear you over the thumping music. As was usual for parties like these, you and Morn had carved out a corner where you could be ignored by everyone else and gossip.

"Well, yeah, but not below the belt. That's what pissed me off. She was all over me all night and as soon as I say I want her to go down on me, she insults me and leaves."

"I mean..." you grinned, unable to resist, "did you stink down there, though?"

Morn punched your shoulder and chuckled.

"Fuck off, it's not like roses and daffodils are the norm. You know, it's like I always say..." It was Morn's turn to grin mischievously.

"Don't fucking say it. I swear to God, Morn. I'm going to laugh really hard and everyone's going to look at me weird. " You pleaded. You knew what would come next; Morn's favorite turn of phrase that she managed to use more often than one would think.

"—like I always say, good pussy smells like the heat coming out of the PS4."

You were true to your word. As you caught your breath between peals of laughter, a few partygoers did in fact stare at you. Despite your prior protests, the stares didn't bother you that much. Here in Morn's gossip corner, all that mattered was whiling the time away until the other half of your group was ready to leave. Dera's whereabouts were unknown but Lash was visible in the corner of the room.

"Looks like Lash's plan is all coming together." You noted. Morn turned to look as well; she was aggressively making out with an Elf boy. He licked her tusks. You grimaced.

"Goddamn. When Lash wants something she gets it."

"She mentioned that guy... what, like, yesterday?" You asked. "From staring at him across the classroom to heavy petting in less than twenty-four hours. That's a new record."

"Makes me feel like I'm not even the same species," Morn complained, finally turning away from Lash's public display of affection. "I know Orc boldness is a stereotype but it's not one I'd mind living up to."

"That's not Orc boldness, that's Lash boldness," you chortled. "Don't be down on yourself for not having it. Besides, she's not looking for a one-night deal; if that Elf doesn't call her back tomorrow she's gonna have her week ruined."

"I guess that's true..." Morn sighed.

"Morn." You firmly squeezed her shoulder and stared at her. "I love Lash to death, but you've never called me at three in the morning crying over the end of a week-and-a-half-long relationship. It's okay to not be dating a new person all the time."

"Yeah, I know." She finished her beer and smiled a bit.

"Besides, if you were hunting down an object of desire every time we were at a party, I'd have no one to chill with. Morn's Gossip Corner is the only thing getting me out of the dorm on Friday nights."

"I'm glad to be of service." She dramatically saluted. "You're right, though. I guess it's just the party atmosphere that makes me forget sleeping around and dating have drawbacks."

"Definitely the party vibe getting to you," you affirmed. "Speaking of sleeping around, though... where's Dera?"

"If I had to guess, upstairs. Text her." Morn suggested.

You pulled out your phone and opened the group chat, aptly titled "THA HOOLIGANZ 👩‍💻👩‍✈️👩‍⚕️🕵️‍♀️" and sent a message:

You: dera where tf are u, its almost been an hour

Almost immediately the indicator that Dera was typing popped up, followed by her reply:

Dera: upstairs. firbolg football player. huge 🍆

"Oh, god." You gagged. Morn pulled out her phone in response to see the cause, then had a similar reaction. She started tapping away at her phone's keyboard.

Morn: damn, dera, chill. we just wanted to make sure you were ok.

The typing indicator preceded yet another reply from Dera.

Dera: lol ok mom

"She's got an attitude tonight, sheesh." Morn shook her head and put her phone away.

"I think tonight an early exit might be a good idea. Dera and Lash seem pretty occupied," you said. You couldn't find Lash or her Elven paramour in the room anymore.

"I think you're right. Text the group and tell 'em we're leaving."

You nodded and did so, receiving 👍 responses from both Dera and Lash after a short pause.

"Let's go." You got up from your place on the sunken-in couch and helped Morn up. The two of you navigated through the fire code-violating sorority house to the front door, where you met the cool night air and the odor of cigarettes. Morn's skateboard was next to yours, propped against the thick trunk of a long-dead tree.

"I don't wanna go back to the dorms yet. It's not that late," Morn said, checking her watch.

"Pizza?" You suggested.

"Pizza."

Before long you were both skating into the night. The entire university town was built into the side of a mountain with the greek life houses at the top, making it a breeze to fashionably exit parties like this one. There were a few drunken revelers to dodge on the way down, but once you cleared the sororities and fraternities it was smooth skating. The incandescent streetlights flew past as century-old houses gave way to newer corner stores and parks. Before long, you and Morn were skating through the thick of the city on a course set for Main Street.

The pleasant sound of plastic wheels on stamped concrete was soon married with the aroma of cheap, indulgent pizza. You wouldn't have needed any senses other than smell to know you arrived at your destination: "Get Stuffed," the type of place where a slice was a dollar and you could write on the walls. As was usual for the time when Friday became Saturday, it was packed with the university crowd; too packed to even sit inside.

You and Morn shimmied to the counter and ordered your usuals. Fortunately, Get Stuffed had nailed speedy service and it was only a few short moments before you were on your way out with greasy pizza on flimsy paper plates. You set your skateboards on the curb and sat on them, side-by-side.

"Thanks for fleeing with me," Morn said, folding her slice of pizza and tucking her loose black curls behind her ear.

"Anytime, Morn." You mimicked her pizza fold before noticing something about the beanie she wore. It was oddly familiar, so you delayed your first bite. "Hey, where's that beanie from?" Morn looked at you, chewing.

"This thing?" She tugged at the chunky burgundy yarn. "You should know."

"I should know?" You mused, finally chewing on your first bite of pizza. It was just as greasy and gratifying as you expected it to be. Then, as realization dawned on you, it almost fell out of your mouth. "You kept that thing for this long?!"

"Of course. It's a good beanie. It's lasted... what, since second grade?" She smirked. "It's one of the best birthday gifts I've gotten. Thanks, by the way."

"Thank you for holding onto it," you countered. "The memories... wow."

"That was the birthday party where we had a sleepover afterward. We played tag, and—"

"Oh, no," you moaned, remembering.

"...you ran so hard that you threw up." Morn giggled. Your cheeks still burned at the vivid memory. You almost forgot crocheting Morn's beanie, but you never forget throwing up at someone's birthday party.

"It's crazy we've been friends for so long." You gracefully changed the subject and started working on your pizza slice in earnest.

"It's not that crazy. You've always been there for me."

"I mean... I try..." you were hiding your blush, feeling warm as Morn readied to shower you with compliments.

"Like the time Chrissie Becker rejected my invitation to prom. You started crying when I started crying, and I hadn't even told you what happened yet." Morn giggled warmly. "Or when our families went camping together and you let me share your sleeping bag when I forgot mine."

"I couldn't just let you sleep on the ground!" you sheepishly defended yourself against the flattery.

"Even though you knew I kicked in my sleep." Morn looked up from her plate and smiled at you, her tusks glinting under the streetlights.

"You're more important to me than my shins," you said quietly.

"Hah!" Morn laughed heartily, bumping her skateboard into yours and wrapping an arm around you. "You're more important to me than my shins."

In Morn's embrace there on the sidewalk, you melted. She had such a way of effortlessly making you feel safe and loved. She had been there for you as well several times and was damn good at it. You enjoyed the feeling so much that you just sat there quietly until she got a little worried.

"Hey, did I tease you too much?" Her wry grin had been replaced with a slight frown and sympathetic brow.

"No, no..." you reassured her, savoring the dreamy feeling. "It's all good. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad we're... friends," you stumbled a bit over the last word.

"Me too," she gave your shoulder a little squeeze.

You both finished your pizza in silence, enjoying each others' side and the ambiance of the city street. After a moment you both tossed the greasy plates into a trash can and skateboarded back to the dorms. The courtyard was where your paths diverged, and after bidding one another goodnight and farewell, you parted. You shared your bed that night with a familiar feeling. Embarrassment, shame, and maybe even guilt. All for the way your heart skipped a beat when she put an arm around you, or the unstoppable smile when she recounted her memories of you. You weren't super familiar with love, at least not in the way Lash and Dera were, but the way Morn made you feel in recent months was more than simple friendship. You agonized over the thought that she wouldn't return those feelings. It was a miracle you managed to sleep at all.

Saturday morning arrived, and with it, a text. You groggily pulled your phone into bed with you to read it after rubbing the sleep from your eyes. It was from THA HOOLIGANZ.

Dera: hey sorry about my sass last nite. i figured y'all left early and that's cool, i was kinda doing my own thing anyway

Lash: LOL sameeee. anyway, does anyone want to meet up for coffee or something? i’d rather be hungover around you guys than my parents 😭

You considered the offer; it would be nice to actually see Lash and Dera after missing them last night. Your moment on the curb with Morn still bothered you, and a distraction from that would be nice.

You: im down, where u wanna go

Dera: u know that cute little cafe on that corner? main street i think?? the one thats literally 100% pink???

Morn: you're thinking of tokidoki cafe! i'm down to go, that’s my spot!

You sighed. This outing wouldn't be very good for distracting you from Morn if Morn was seated across from you.

Dera: thats the one. lets gooooooo

Lash: yes. literally right now. start running

Morn: thanks, but I think I'll skate there. see y'all in a bit

You: same

The morning air was crisp and cool in the way spring mornings always were. It was a shame Lash and Dera were too busy downing aspirin and chugging water to truly enjoy it. Your skateboard served you well as a means of transport on mornings like this; you and your friends were the rare few students who didn't usually sleep in on Saturdays, so you enjoyed the empty sidewalks. The soft plastic wheels gripped the concrete well enough to accommodate any street corners.

The cafe was 100% pink, as promised. The sweet, pillowy smell of crepes mingled with the robust aroma of coffee and met you as you hopped off your skateboard. The tiny size of the place made it easy to tell you were the first to arrive. You ordered the latte-crepe combo that took up the most space on the menu and sat while you waited. You were idly scrolling through your phone when you heard the rhythmic thumping of a skateboard wheels on slabs of sidewalk.

She looked painfully good as she stepped through the cafe's front door. The morning sun made her long black hair golden around the edges and she still wore that damn beanie. Her tusks poked out from her smiling lips when her eyes met yours. Illuminated by sunbeams, her well-toned arm showed every muscle and vein as she gripped her skateboard by the trucks to carry it in.

"Good morning!" she beamed at you. The employee behind the counter smiled at her knowingly.

"The usual, Morn?" he asked.

"Yep!" She quickly answered before sitting across from you, the pins on her denim jacket jingling. "You got here quickly."

"Yeah..." you answered weakly, your conversational skills still recovering from the way Morn held you last night.

"You weren't drinking last night, were you? You alright?" Of course, Morn immediately picked up that something was the matter. It would be stranger if she didn't.

"I'm fine. Where are Lash and Dera?" You deflected. As if on cue, your phone buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ chimed in.

Lash: lol srry, throwing up. cant make it

Dera: yeah same.

"Unbelievable. Those girls can't seem to show up anywhere lately." Morn had a slightly disapproving tone. She tapped away on her phone.

Morn: this is going on your attendance sheet

Lash: see u in detention, dera

Dera: enjoy your crepes you two!

You chuckled at the exchange.

"That's more like it. I like when you smile." Morn chimed in. "Do more of that."

The waiter saved you from needing to respond by stopping at your table with your orders. A steaming, folded crepe landed before you covered in a sauce just as pink as the rest of the cafe. A warm latte arrived with it and you wrapped your hands around the warm mug. It soothed you a little.

"Morn..." you began, not quite sure what you were going to say. Was this it? Were you going to lay your feelings on the table right here, right now?

"What is it? You can tell me anything." Morn leaned in over the table. "I can tell something's been bothering you lately."

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn't even know how to begin; should you preface it with an apology? Some sort of explanation or disclaimer?

"I don't even know if I can tell you. Like, if I can get the words out," you said before sipping your latte. You savored the taste, hoping the espresso would ground you somehow. At the very least you wouldn't be expected to talk with your mouth full.

"There's no rush. I just... I want to help. I've known you long enough that I'm sure there's something I can do." Morn hadn't even touched her crepe yet.

"Let's just, um, eat." You answered.

"Good idea. I'm sure you'll feel like yourself once you've eaten and the coffee starts kicking in." Morn nodded to herself, cutting open her fruit-filled crepe. You similarly started to work on yours. The two of you ate in silence and, for a moment, you did feel better. Fully focusing on the aromas, flavors, and textures of your breakfast stilled your trembling hands. The slightest bit of confidence grew within you halfway through the meal.

"I... um..." the words slowly formed in your mouth. Morn paused, setting down her fork and knife and looking at you intently. "I fell in love. With someone I don't think I should be in love with."

Morn listened but said nothing. She was thinking.

"How do you know it's love?"

"What?" you asked.

"How do you know it's not just a crush? Or, you know, lust?" Morn inquired. You considered the question carefully. Memories of platonic cuddles, impromptu sleepovers, and late-night conversations with Morn came to mind.

"It's love because it's lasted way longer than any crush. I trust this person, and they trust me. I'm not like Lash, pining for the new guy from across the classroom; I know this person really well."

"I see." She paused again. "Why would it be bad to love them? Wouldn't a good history make a romantic relationship easier?"

"Only if they felt the same way..." you sighed and nestled your head in your elbows.

"Ah, right..." Morn looked sheepish. "Well, personally—and I do mean personally, so it might not apply to them—if I had a long-time friend that I had feelings for, I would just tell them."

"Really?" Your eyes widened.

"I mean, yeah. If I and this person had such a long history of trust, then I would trust them to still be friends with me afterward if they didn't feel the same way. I'm sure it would be awkward for a while, but I really don't think it would be, you know... destructive or anything."

More memories came to you. More times where you felt completely open and vulnerable with Morn, and when she did with you. Times when you comforted each other and shared secrets under blanket forts and playground swings and gymnasium bleachers. Words formed inside your mouth, desperate to make themselves known to the world. Perhaps now would become another one of these memories. You'd look back on it in the future and remember the smell of pink crepes in the pink cafe.

"Morn... I have these feelings for you. I'm talking about you."

You fought the urge to cover your mouth, and you didn't stutter or stammer in the slightest. Though working up the courage was difficult, letting the words go was one of the easiest things you had ever done. Morn didn't react much; an eyebrow rose slowly as she finished chewing. The silence was agonizing.

"I'm happy you trust me enough to share that with me," Morn said calmly. You wanted to shout that's all?! but held your tongue. She took a sip of her latte, clearly in no rush to say more.

"So..." you began, well and truly lost. All your effort had gone into mustering courage and now you had nothing left. Even your anxiety and worry had gone, and you were strangely content, though eager, to hear Morn speak.

"So..." Morn parroted, "does that mean you want to... you know, date me? Like, romantic dates, not besties dates. Kissing dates."

Again, your impulses screamed duh!

"Um, yeah..." you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'd like that, but... only if you'd like that too."

She sipped her latte again, still calm.

"You know, over the years, I've imagined what we would be like if we were romantic with each other. Like, girlfriend-girlfriends. How could I not? We've known each other for so long."

You nodded, bidding her speak more.

"I never knew you wanted that. I can't imagine how you felt; I could tell something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what." Morn set the mug and her cutlery down, intentionally and warmly looking you in the eye. "I think...

You didn't even breathe.

"I think we should give it a shot." Morn smiled widely. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes, yes it does," you finally drew breath. If Morn was feeling a similar tumult of emotions that you were, she was hiding it considerably well. Morn wiped her lips and tusks with a napkin and got up from the table.

"Well, I've got to visit mom and pops tonight, but we've still got Sunday tomorrow. How about we have our first real date then?"

"Uh, sure!" You sat there, dumbfounded. Was it really going to be this easy?

"Cool. I'll let you pick where we go, just like most of our... non-date hangouts," she said, turning to the cashier. She gestured widely to the table. "Put it all on my tab."

"You have a crepe tab?"

Morn chuckled. Making her way to the door, the sunlight caught her hair and skin deliciously.

"I'm a regular. Anyway," she grabbed her skateboard, "see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow." You answered. She gave you one last toothy grin and stepped out before gliding out of sight, disappearing past the edge of the window. You rested your chin in your hands and sighed like a lovestruck teenager in a coming-of-age movie. Before long, your window-gazing session was interrupted by an employee.

"All done, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, I was spacing out."

"No, it's all good. Thanks for coming by, and if you don't mind me saying..." he looked somewhat pensive.

"What?"

"Don't tell Morn I said this since she's proven that she could snap me in half like a twig, but... speaking as the crepe guy she visits several times a week, I think she's a good match for you."

"But you've never met me before. Maybe once or twice, but—"

"She's told me all about you. All good things, don't worry. It's less about you and more about how Morn talks about you. She gushes when she mentions you, seriously." He paused awkwardly then started to clean up the table. "I've said too much."

"No, thank you," you said. "It's good to know."

"Glad I could help. Anyway... um, thanks for coming in." He waved at you as you got up and left. You nodded and made your exit.

Back at your dorm, you couldn't decide if you wanted to pace or lay in bed and kick your legs. You had so much energy inside you, trapped. It was equally nervous and thrilling. You wondered how Morn kept herself so well composed; something in the back of your mind nagged at you, wondering if it was because she didn't really feel that strongly for you. Enough, you thought to yourself. Morn was your best friend for almost as long as you could remember. She wouldn't toy with you like that. Hell, she explained her entire thought process on the topic before you even confessed to her.

You decided to pace to distract yourself. Those thoughts weren't helpful. Right now you had to choose a place for your first officially non-platonic date. It was never this hard to pick a place to hang out with Morn before...

Then, an idea. It sprung into your mind out of nowhere, and it just felt right. You made sure that the place was open on Sunday, checked the ticket prices... it was perfect. You readied your phone to text Morn the details... but Lash had already sent you a private message. You opened the notification.

Lash: yo how did crepes go?? sorry i no-showed

Your brow furrowed a bit. Lash's random interest was a bit strange, even more so since she was hungover. A dehydrated, vomiting Lash was bedridden for a good half-day in your experience.

You: the cafe was cool! the crepes were good

Unsure if you should be forthcoming about your new development with Morn, you figured they could find out tomorrow once your first "real date" was underway. A change like that would likely be a big deal in your friend group, so a text message wouldn't do the announcement justice anyway.

Lash: how's Morn?

You: shes fine? did something happen??

Lash: no lol, just wondering lol

Two "lol" in one text? You wanted to indulge your suspicions and investigate further, but you decided to leave it at that. You had a date to arrange.

You: still at your parents' place?

Morn: yeah, I'll be back in town tomorrow though

You: k, cool. does meeting at the aviary at 2pm work?

Morn: yeah definitely! what made you pick the aviary?

You: idk if you remember, it was so long ago, but it was the first school field trip we went on as friends

There was a pause as Morn's typing bubble hovered on your screen.

Morn: 😭OMG YOURE SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY😭

Morn: i cant wait to see you tomorrow!!!

You: me too 💕

Your phone landed on your bed with a thump and that nervous energy returned with a vengeance. More pacing, more leg-kicking, even some giggles. This situation felt both extremely real and like a scene from a movie; you never imagined this sort of thing happened in real life, especially in yours. Against all previous expectations, things were going fine. It was thrilling, scary, and made your heart race, but it was going fine. The homework you had to do took a back seat to your excited daydreaming and scheming about tomorrow. You thought about how you would greet her, how you would hug, if and how you would go for a kiss, walking while holding her hand... predictably, sleeping that night was incredibly difficult.

In the morning, you finally executed the plans you fantasized about prior. You decided to err on the side of being overdressed, picking an outfit that wasn't formal but still a little more special than what you would usually wear. You showered, brushed your teeth, swished some mouthwash, and even flossed! Breath mints, a small assortment of Morn's favorite snacks, and an extra water bottle found their way into your bag. If you were going to overthink, then you would take advantage and be overprepared as well. Squeaky clean, dressed to impress, and with a heftier bag than usual, you skateboarded down to the aviary intent on arriving ten minutes early.

The journey was uneventful save for your steadily increasing heart rate. By the time you were waiting for her by the entrance gate, you were fully flustered. You stood still with a kind smile on your face, but anything more complex would have been asking too much of you. The mental rehearsal in your mind's eye ran over and over again: smile, say hi, hug. Smile, say hi, hug. These were all things you had done with Morn before, but with platonic intent instead of this newfound "why not?" intimacy. With how calm and composed Morn had appeared throughout this whole process, you felt as if you were at a disadvantage somehow. You worried in a juvenile sort of way that she was too cool for you.

The way she pulled up to the aviary in her car didn't help that worry at all. Her ride, an old, angular, black thing that roared like a beast, was her pride and joy. She had practically built the thing herself with the number of parts she swapped out of it. It was fully manual and she had the skills to maneuver it gracefully into the parking space. Out from it stepped your actual, honest-to-god, bonafide date.

She smiled at you and your brain melted. You held up a hand in a sort of mellow wave, offering a faint grin. By the time she closed the distance, your simple three-step plan was gone with the wind. Luckily she also decided that greeting with a hug was the correct choice and you were in her embrace quickly. You paused before realizing you should probably return the gesture and wrap your arms around her as well.

"It's so good to see you! You look great," she said, pulling away and looking you over.

"You too..." you breathed, taking your own chance to get a proper look. Her outfit was just as sleek and dark as her car: a pair of black jeans with accompanying boots, a matching leather jacket, and of course, that classic burgundy beanie to top it off.

"Shall we?" She extended a green, competent hand to you. She wasn't wearing her driving gloves today, which was good for your composure; otherwise, you would have well and truly swooned. You accepted her grasp and she gave your hand a firm squeeze before strolling with you to the ticket booth. Thanks to your student IDs, you got in with discounted admission.

The aviary itself was fairly large, and on this particular Sunday, you and Morn practically had the place to yourselves. Other than the idle chatter of a few other scattered visitors, there was only the sound of wind in the leaves and bird calls. The two of you meandered between the exhibits, chatting but not about much in particular. Instead, you were simply content to enjoy each other's company and look at the birds. The birds liked looking at you, too; at one point a pair of free-roaming peacocks followed you and Morn around the aviary.

"Looks like it's a double date," Morn quipped, gesturing to the two plumy birds. They were both mostly brown and lacking the massive, fan-shaped tails.

"They're a pair of girls too. Male peacocks are the ones with the crazy feathers," you noted.

"It's almost like having Lash and Dera tagging along." Morn chuckled. "In fact, if they keep failing to show up these birds would make good replacements."

You looked at the two peacocks, who had started preening each other's feathers.

"Do you think they're besties or girlfriends?" You playfully asked. "That's some pretty intense preening."

"Maybe they're both, like us." Morn wrapped an arm around you and offered you her shoulder. You melted again. "If you had feathers, I'd be preening you right now."

"If I knew how to return that compliment, I would." You said, deliciously rattled by her closeness and warmth.

"I have an idea... if you're cool with it." Morn kept holding you close, turning to make eye contact with you. You faced her and realized how close you were. Trapped in her gaze, you couldn't speak. You gave a faint nod.

The first thing you felt was her tusks on your cheeks. They met the corners of your mouth, pressing gently just before her lips met yours. In reality, the kiss was a quick peck. In your mind, time froze. You could no longer hear the birds calling or wind blowing, only the sound of your heart beating like a drum and a feeling like fire in your chest. Morn pulled away from the kiss with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry if my tusks poked you. I'm still getting the hang of that."

"Hey, practice makes perfect, right?" you let slip with a suaveness that surprised even you. Morn's eyes widened in surprise before she let out a hearty laugh.

"That's the spirit!" She cheered, squeezing you hard. "I'm gonna hold you to it, so be aware: I'm gonna kiss you a bunch more before we're out of here."

"That's fine by me." You couldn't do anything else but giggle. Morn gave you another peck immediately after, angling her head a bit so her tusks didn't have such a lead on her lips. Your first kiss with Morn was perfect as far as you were concerned, but this second one was a bit more graceful.

"Better?" she asked.

"Better."

Your stroll through the aviary continued in this fashion: chatting about this and that, generally gushing about each other and punctuated by more quick kisses. It was strange to have a first date with someone that you knew so well, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. Each kiss felt natural and fun, not nerve-wracking and awkward as in the dates of your past. Before all this, you scoffed at yourself for wishing that there was a switch you could toggle to go from best friends to girlfriends, but so far it seemed to work precisely like that.

To the sound of your giggling, the sun was poised to set soon. The aviary closed early because it was Sunday, and you found yourself with Morn leaning against the gleaming hood of her car. You saw your reflection in it, the two of you framed by the orange sky. She came to your side, attaching to you like a magnet.

"It's probably time we headed home, huh?" she suggested.

"Yeah, probably," you replied reluctantly. "I almost don't want it to end."

"It doesn't have to." Morn smiled. "Did you really think I'd kiss you goodnight and leave you on the curb?"

You giggled. That would certainly be the plan for a first date with a stranger, but this was Morn.

"You could come by and hang out with me in my dorm for a bit?" she asked.

"I'd love to." You answered. Her dorm building and yours were right next to each other, after all. She stood up from the hood of her car and opened the passenger side door, offering the seat to you. Not long after stowing your skateboard in the trunk, you were cruising through the city streets bound for the university. Morn's focus made the ride a smooth one, her hands expertly gripping the steering wheel and gear shifter. She wore a focused but pleased expression as she deftly maneuvered the growling vehicle.

"Oh!" Her concentration broke. "We should get food! We haven't eaten at all."

Tires squealed as she veered right, making a turn she wasn't expecting to make. You gripped your armrest and giggled. The engine roared and, within moments, delivered you to a drive-through whose location Morn seemed to know by heart. She was so familiar with it that she blew past the lit-up menu and instead went directly to order.

"Don't worry, I'll get you something you'll like." She reassured you before making it out of the drive-through, takeout bag in hand, in record time. The bag landed in your lap and delicious smells wafted from it. You were tempted to peek inside and sample its contents, but even while entranced with Morn's driving skills you knew eating in her car was a no-no. Untoasted Pop-Tarts during a late-night study session on her bed were okay but her car was like a temple. You folded the top of the bag to make it easier to resist the temptation.

After she had parked and gotten out of the car, you followed her with takeout bag in one hand and skateboard in the other. This late on a Sunday night, the sky was a deep navy. Stark white light from the lamp posts illuminated the web of pathways that connected the dorms, parking lots, student union, and myriad other places you'd typically skateboard solo to.

A few beeping locks later, you made it to Morn's dorm room. Like yours, it was spartan and tiny, but it belonged to her and her alone. You set the bag down on the solitary table and determined to chow down, but Morn caught your attention. She sat on the twin-sized bed that you had shared with her many times before; platonically, of course. She had an expression that you couldn't quite decipher.

"You okay?" You asked, not sure where to begin.

"I'm great, actually," she said, brushing her hair out of the way so she could look at you. "Sorry if I overdid it with the kisses earlier—"

"You didn't," you interjected.

"I just... It felt great to kiss you. I don't know if it's just my nerves, or the newness of it all, or something else, but... I'm kicking myself for not making the first move on you sooner." She looked away, blushing a forest green on her cheeks. You sat next to her on the bed before she could say anything more.

"Hey, don't feel bad just because I was moping for a bit. The fact I was so worried is proof that you can't really know how someone feels about you until you ask. Even if you were friends since forever ago." You reversed the usual arrangement by wrapping your arm around her. She chuckled softly.

"I can't believe I was stressing myself out over random sorority chicks at parties rejecting me. Being with you just feels so much better than the dating apps and the parties and shit like that," Morn sighed. "I know it's technically only our first date but I really think we're something special."

"We are special," you held her tighter, "we went on our first date after... what, a decade and a half of knowing each other? That kind of history sure beats cheesy Tinder pick-up lines."

"Sure does," Morn punctuated her sentence with a kiss. Instead of giving you a quick peck, she pressed her lips into yours even harder. Within the privacy of her dorm room, your heart fluttered at the notion of Morn being able to do whatever she wanted to you. You felt the beginnings of her tongue at your lips, then she pulled away and took a deep breath. Her face was inches from yours as you caught your breath.

"I really like kissing you," Morn uttered. "Now that we're alone... are you okay if I really kiss you?"

"Really kiss me?" you teased. She got even closer.

"Please?" She played along with her best begging tone.

"Go ham." She kissed you again, giggling at your choice of words with her lips pressed against yours once more. She immediately cradled your head in her strong hands, gently placing you into a reclining position. There wasn't much room, but she managed to fit alongside you in the twin-sized bed all without breaking the kiss. You opened your eyes after pulling away to breathe, and all you could see were her dandelion-colored irises.

"I'm gonna go again," She said, smiling. "I just had to get a good look at you first."

"You can do whatever you want, Morn." You grabbed her arm and placed her hand on you. "Just don't keep me waiting."

Morn kissed you hard for the third time, the hand you held now caressing your body ravenously. As her tongue gently played at your lips, her hand found its way to your chest and played with your breasts. She hardly gave you time to gasp, coming back to your mouth with fervor. Her tongue met yours in earnest now, both of you closing the space on the bed between you. Her body flush with yours, you could feel every muscle as she held you close.

You felt one of her legs settle in between your thighs, and you whined into her mouth as she teasingly rubbed you against it. Even fully clothed the sensation was electric, no doubt due to the person giving it to you. Many nights alone had involved fantasies just like this. Now they were coming true.

Desperately, you began grinding yourself against her leg. You chased the sensation as far as you could, moaning into Morn's kiss. Just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, she removed herself from you. Her leg pulled away and the kiss stopped. You opened your eyes, bewildered. Morn had gotten off the bed and kneeled just next to it, her eyes level with your aching need. She grabbed the waistband of your bottoms before looking you in the eyes again.

"You said you didn't want me to keep you waiting," she grinned, tusks glistening. "This okay?"

"It's more than okay... stop teasing me!" You whined. She nodded, pulling your bottoms off entirely before hovering in between your legs. You could feel her breathe on you through your underwear. God, she was so close; you twitched with each puff of warm breath. Her tusks brushed against the inside of your thighs. With a tentative finger she eased your underwear out of the way, gently planting kisses all around your bare mound. She held your legs in place as they twitched and reacted to her electric touch. She deliberately avoided your tender nub with her warm lips. She was playing with you.

"Morn, please," you begged. She paused to look up at you and give a toothy grin.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated," she teased, quickly going back for more. She felt unimaginably warm against your already hot entrance. It wasn't unlike all those other times you melted at Morn's touch, only now it was so intense you couldn't help but let out gasps and squeaks. She held nothing back this time. Hungrily, she lapped at your slit, each lick finishing with a flourish on your sensitive little nub. You mewled in time with her curling tongue.

"Oh! That's— ah! So good!" You moaned, your back beginning to arch as you squirmed around on the mattress.

"You flatter me," Morn uttered between licks, looking proud. You saw something in her eye before she let go of one of your thighs and brought her hand to your entrance. Her tongue didn't let up at all as she slowly introduced one of her substantial fingers. It fit comfortably inside you at first, but you gasped hard when it started moving. Morn added another soon after, stretching you deliciously.

"I'm gonna come if you keep that up," you panted, your face burning red and lungs desperate for air.

"My pleasure," Morn said before redoubling her efforts. Her fingers curled inside you, making a "come hither" motion that made your hips rock. By this point, Morn's tongue had trouble staying on you as you writhed. You gasped with every finger curl, well and truly lost in the heat of the moment.

"Ah! Morn!" You cried, rocking yourself against her fingers desperate for more. She gave up on trying to lick your nub, instead palming one of your breasts with her other hand and pinning you to the bed. With the new leverage, she worked your insides with her fingers, pumping them in and out of you with her muscular arm. You could see sweat beading on her taut green skin.

"Come for me. I wanna see you come," Morn urged. You could do little else but cry out and oblige her. Your body spasmed hard as you cried out gibberish interspersed with her lovely name. Her fingers didn't stop rubbing against your inner walls, leaving you breathless and faint and tightly wound around her. The coiling pleasure within you finally snapped. Your back arched, completely leaving the bed as Morn pressed her lips into yours. She kissed you hungrily as you wailed into her mouth. There was nothing in your mind but the feeling of her fingers coaxing you through the height of your bliss and holding you there for as long as possible. When the pleasure finally started to subside and your breath returned to you, Morn finally withdrew her fingers and lips and wiped her forehead. She smiled at you wordlessly.

"I love you, Morn," you said, panting. There was nothing else to say, nothing else on your mind. If you had given yourself that sort of bliss on a lonely night, you would be drowsy and lethargic. Instead, with Morn turning her love for you into pleasure that made you cry out and curl, you had never felt more alive. She gave you a moment to catch your breath. Leaving your lips unkissed, she sat by your side and stroked your hair.

"I love you too," she planted a quick kiss on your forehead. "Are you tired?"

You shook your head enthusiastically. Sure, you would likely be sore in a few hours, but you wouldn't dream of denying Morn more of you.

"Good, because I wanna get off too." She chuckled and pecked your lips. Undressing herself completely, she helped you out of what clothes remained until you were both completely bare. You were completely flush against her on the bed once more, your skin perfectly complimenting her green form. Her body was toned and full, muscled yet smooth. Even after all you had just been through, the sight of her still made your heart skip.

"I've always wanted to try this. Spread your legs," she commanded, gently grasping your ankles. You complied and she lifted one of your legs aloft just in front of her as if about to hug it. Still holding your leg pointed toward the ceiling, she straddled your dripping warmth with her own. She eased herself onto you and those lovely electric feelings returned. She moaned for the first time, her pleasured sounds like music to your ears.

The position was a little awkward and bent your back in a strange way, but the feeling of her slick sex pressed against yours was delicious.

"I'm gonna start moving," Morn said. She initiated a gentle rocking motion that made you both gasp. The friction between the two of you felt gorgeous and you soon found yourself reciprocating with your hips. Interlocked and sharing the same squeaks and mewls, you wanted desperately to kiss her but couldn't. You had to lay there at her mercy as Morn clung to your leg and ground herself into you. She doubled up on her pace.

"Oh, shit," Morn groaned, both with pleasure and with effort. She had the same expression as when she was driving; when her head wasn't thrown back with a sigh, she was looking at you with love but also intent. Her grinding made you moan and her glare made you shiver delightfully. You had never felt anything like this before, nor had you even fantasized about Morn pressed up against you like this.

"This feels amazing... ah! Morn..." you sighed between yelps when the friction between you peaked.

"I—I..." Morn gasped, her entire face contorted and flushed. She had brought you to your peak once already, and now you wanted nothing more than to see her reach her own ecstasy.

"Please, Morn, come," you pleaded, mirroring her own urgency when she had brought you to orgasm earlier.

"No, I... Shit, I've got a cramp." She sighed, this time tinged with disappointment as she stopped her grinding. "Ouch." She gently disentangled herself from you, rubbing her thigh. The realization that her creased brow had come from pain and not pleasure embarrassed you a bit, an emotion that Morn echoed.

"Hey, it's okay." You sat up and held her shoulder. Her eyes were downcast as she massaged the cramp out of her muscled thigh. "Just so you know, I'm having a great time."

"You were having a great time." She winced as she shifted her kneeling weight on the bed. "Serves me right for thinking I could fuck like a pornstar on the first date, huh?"

"I already came once, Morn," you reminded her. Sitting alongside her, equally naked and sweaty, there was a clarity in the air that made it effortless to speak your mind. You felt bold, yet comfortable. You felt like you wanted more of Morn's body. "Let me take care of you. I think I can make this work."

"Take the lead, babe," Morn relented. The way she said babe made you giddy inside, but you were focused on her now. "Just mind the leg, it still freakin' hurts."

"Morn, when I say I'm gonna take care of you, I mean it. Just lie down," you said, easing her onto her back. With the positions reversed, you had a moment to look her up and down. Laid bare before you and anticipating your next move, the sight of her awoke something within you. Something that told you not to hold back.

You practically pounced atop her, squarely laying yourself on her body. She met you with a kiss that you eagerly returned. You channeled all your built-up desire to please her into that kiss, at the same time aligning your mound with hers. It took a few tries, but eventually, you found the angle where your clit could meet hers without requiring pornstar-style flexibility. Pleasure jolted through both of you and she broke the kiss to gasp.

"Told you I could make it work," you grinned, focusing now on the movement of your hips. You started slowly at first as to not tire yourself out but quickly increased the pace as the coiling warmth inside you grew. Instead of kissing her, you buried your face in her shoulder so you could hear her sing. With every roll of your hips she moaned, louder and louder as you humped her harder and harder.

"Oh, god, babe," Morn panted. You could feel her frenzied breath on your neck as she cried out. You could feel your own orgasm building but all you cared about was her.

"Tell me how you feel," you commanded, maintaining your hips' pace. "I want you to come so bad."

"Keep going," Morn grunted. "I'm close, I'm so fucking close!"

You furthered your efforts, grinding your desperate nub into hers with vigor. You panted as you began to feel tingles in your extremities and your breath became impossibly tight. Morn matched your desperation, her hips weakly pushing upwards so that her mound would meet yours sooner. Just a little more! More! You shouted to yourself mentally as Morn's hands squeezed your waist to signal her impending orgasm.

You frantically let go of her body with one hand, giving up precious leverage in order to make sure Morn couldn't escape the pleasure you were giving her. There was nothing you wanted more than to reach the peak together. You gently caught her pearl between your fingers and rolled it as you ground into her, drawing out deep moans from her. She spasmed in your grasp, gasping in time with your own pleased sighs.

"Oh god!" She cried out, throwing her head back into the piled-up blankets. Her whole body tensed and you could feel each of her rippling muscles press against you in a desperate bid to ride out her orgasm. You followed soon after, the air forced from your lungs as an explosion of tingling warmth knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was cry out with her and press your nub into hers where your hand was still at work. You rubbed and rolled, trying your best to prolong the mutual climax before finally catching your breath and collapsing into Morn's tired embrace.

With your body limp and your face buried in her neck, you could feel her breasts rise and fall with each breath. You held each other loosely for a moment, just listening to her breathe. After only a few heartbeats, she started giggling.

"What's so funny?" you asked, lifting your heavy head to look at her.

"Nothing," she stifled her giggles, a tear rolling down her cheek. "That was just really, really good."

"Are you crying?" You asked, concerned but secretly proud of your handiwork.

"No, I'm not crying. I'm tearing up, there's a difference," she chuckled. "Thank you."

"Thank you. You're the one that started it," you cooed, stroking her hair. "plus, you ate me out first so I think I owe you."

"It's on the house," Morn sighed contently. "But you're still on me... could you roll over, please?"

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly shifted your weight off of her and onto the mattress.

"Don't worry about it, I just figured the bed was softer than me." She chuckled again.

You said nothing, instead opting to resume your embrace with her from the side. She reciprocated, rolling over so she could be the big spoon. She wrapped her arms around you snugly.

"Ah, shit," Morn cursed under her breath.

"What? What's wrong?" You craned your neck a bit to see her golden eyes in your periphery.

"Our food is definitely cold by now," she grumbled, "and I don't have a microwave."

“I’ve got snacks in my bag.” You replied.

Morn readied a compliment, but delayed when both your phones buzzed. THA HOOLIGANZ had something to say.

“What is it now?” Morn rolled over and grabbed her phone, reading the messages as they rolled in. You did the same.

“What the…?”

Lash: did you two kiss yet???

Dera: they did more than that 😳😳😳

Morn shot you a look of disbelief before tapping away frantically.

Morn: wtf are you guys talking about?

You: ^

Lash: the crepe date! u two are dating now right?

You: what do u mean crepe date? the breakfast u failed to show up to u mean??

Lash: lol, relax. we just thought you two needed some time alone. for the record, i was actually hung over. me and dera just agreed you two needed to talk it out

Dera: seriously, u look at Morn the way she looks at crepes, and she looks at u the way Lash looks at literally anyone

Lash: or the way u look at dudes bulges

Dera: shut up

“I…” Morn began, jaw agape. “I don’t know if I should be mad or amazed. I’m both.”

“They set us up like lonely freshmen.” You shook your head, chuckling.

Lash: u two are dating now right???

Morn: yes dumbass

You: can confirm

Lash: CUTEEEEE

Dera: morn fucks on the first date. respect.

You: wait how- what?

Dera: ur in Morn’s dorm right

Your texting was interrupted by three solid thumps coming through the wall.

Dera: i’m right next door and these dorms are made of fucking paper

Morn: hey, i’ve dealt with hearing every single time you slept with some guy. fair is fair

Dera: no judgment from me!

Lash: suddenly i’m glad i still live with my parents…

You put your phone down as you really didn’t have much to say. Morn gave up on it as well, your phones resting together on the floor. She resumed spooning you and a moment later, you felt her chest start to heave with laughter; a hearty laugh loud enough for Dera to hear through the walls. You joined her, laughing until your diaphragm ached. The whole situation, the realization that Dera and Lash knew before either of you did and that they had a master plan… utterly ridiculous. It was like something out of a movie, yet with your arms wrapped around one of Morn’s, completely real. You feared this was all a dream, and as soon as you succumbed to sleep in Morn’s cozy twin bed, it would dissolve.

Morn could tell sleep started to take you.

“I love you,” she whispered into your ear. She squeezed you tight. You had never been more sure of anything in your life that Morn would still be cuddling you when you woke up.

[devilyn]

belated regrets | kuroo tetsurou

— alexa, play: remember me by umi

Cuz I'm getting older Know that I've changed But I can't go back now Nothing's the same And I won't forget how You called my name When I was afraid And now I'm afraid

— synopsis: after taking advantage of your friendship, what will kuroo do to win it back?  — genre: angst, friends to lovers if you squint — word count: 3.1k

This wasn't like you. You had stopped crying over Kuroo months ago. You stopped thinking about whether or not he had eaten yet, if he had gotten home safe, if he would text you goodnight, and yet here you were. You were crying again, after claiming you moved on and healed, and after telling all your friends that you would cut him out of your life.

You wish you blocked his number. It felt mean to do it back then, but you really wish you did, because now you definitely wouldn't be able to.

"I think we should take some time apart," were the words you whispered to him over the phone one night a few months back when he was telling you about some girl he had gotten close to in his chemistry lecture.

There was a painful silence that lasted over 15 long seconds. You'd never forget. You counted, after all.

"Why?" he asked quietly. "You're my best friend. What did I do wrong?"

Your 'friendship' had always been strange, after all. Everyone told you that, and even Kenma firmly believed that the two of you would end up dating eventually. But every time, Kuroo would laugh and ruffle your hair while proclaiming he would never date you.

And every time, you'd force a smile and agree with him.

"This friendship...just isn't what it used to be," you answered. It was true. Ever since the two of you got to college, things had changed. He met different people through his classes and bustling parties, and thus different girls that he'd ask you about. You manufactured his sweet texts to them, all while wishing he'd send them to you and feel just as nervous calling you late at night. You'd help guide him through the process of asking her out, then let him come over and be sad when he was rejected. 

Every aspect of your friendship became about him, him, and him. His academics were doing well--he was a surprisingly smart man after all--but they took a toll on him mentally, as they do to all college students. The same happened to you as well, but never once did Kuroo ask about how you were doing, how you were feeling, how you were coping with the sudden changes to your life.

You kept in contact with Kenma, who you'd text once in a while to tell him about how much you hated his previous captain. And Kenma would listen to you cry over the phone about his foolish childhood friend that knew nothing about your growing feelings for him. He was the only person who kept you grounded, and understood that your feelings for Kuroo couldn't be so easily tossed aside as the rest of your friends claimed. He also was the one who encouraged you to end your friendship with Kuroo gently, knowing that he would have to deal with the aftermath of Kuroo's confusion.

"Can I fix it somehow?" Kuroo asked in a panic, and you laughed bitterly. You had asked him many times to fix things--his treatment of you as if he were your therapist being the main one. He’d apologize, yet things would always end up returning to how they were before, with you being at the bottom on his list of priorities.

"Not anymore," your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat to pretend like you weren't crying. "I think you'll be fine without me."

“Y/N--”

“Don’t call me from now on, please. Don’t come over, because I won’t answer the door,” you paused. “...you’re still going to be my friend. I just need space.”

A lie. You knew it, and Kenma did too when you rehearsed your lines to him. He told you such, but you couldn’t bear to tell Kuroo the truth.

And even as you hung up, deep down, you wished he would disobey your wishes. You wanted him to text you and come to his senses, realizing he was wrong. You wanted to relive late night calls where you would laugh and talk about absolutely nothing just because you couldn’t fall asleep. You wanted to go back to him showing up at your front door with a bucket of fried chicken to reward you for studying hard for your midterm exams. You wanted to lay next to him on a grassy field again, where he was gazing up at the stars and you were mesmerized by how beautiful your best friend was, inside and out.

But Kuroo never called. You no longer sent him good morning texts, asking how his day was, and he stopped asking for your advice. It was like the two of you were less than friends. You’d only speak when you sent him an occasional meme that reminded you of him, or a song you knew he would enjoy. He’d respond earnestly, as if your friendship of over four years wasn’t shattered during that one call months ago.

Kenma called you an idiot for not cutting him off entirely, and you would have to agree with him. You were an idiot who was head over heels for a man who would never share your feelings.

It took months for you to get over it, but the distance you put between the two of you definitely helped. So why was it, all of a sudden, after you were finally healing and moving on, that Kuroo decided to call you out of nowhere?

You stared at your buzzing phone, the image of a stupid face Kuroo made flashing on your screen. 

Should you pick up? Should you pretend like you didn’t see his call? During your time contemplating, his photo faded away and your phone stopped vibrating angrily against your coffee table. 

Your heart felt like it was going to beat through your chest when you saw the ‘one missed call’ notification flicker mockingly at you. You stared at your phone, breath hitching in your throat when suddenly, you received a new text from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou himself.

“Fuck,” you cursed, leaning your head back against the couch and groaning loudly. Should you call Kenma? You could already feel a headache incoming. 

Why? Why did Kuroo always do this to you? He’s always had terrible timing, and apparently that never changed.

You plucked your phone from the table, braving it all and finally reading what he had to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut to chase away the anger building up inside of you. “Now? Now of all times? Does he even know what he’s sorry for?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to apologize to you just because he knew you were upset. Still, you always forgave him solely because he was your best friend. But now, you knew better.

Fully ready to toss your phone aside, your eyes caught a new text from your ex-best friend.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Liar.

“I’m sorry for that one time I told you I’d help you study for your chemistry exam but ended up forgetting and missing all your texts and calls.”

You remembered that day. You had confided in him about your bad grade, and when he told you he could help you study, you were over the moon at the thought of being able to raise your nearly failing chemistry grade (and at the thought of spending more time with him). You called him multiple times when he didn’t show up, but gave up when he didn’t pick up the fifth time. You stayed up all night studying on your own, but still ended up failing that exam. You dropped the class, and ended up taking it next semester to get a much better grade without Kuroo’s help.

“I’m sorry for when you couldn’t tell me why you cried the entire day but still let me over so I could complain about Kira turning me down.”

That day, you were extremely overwhelmed. Your roommate was out somewhere, so you were left on your own to cry over the endless amount of assignments you had to deal with, on top of everything else. Kuroo had called that day, clearly in distress, and though you were in tears, you wiped them away and put on a weak smile when he showed up at your front door with a pained expression.

You wanted to be there for him. He was your best friend, after all.

“I’m sorry for that time that I left in the middle of our movie night because Ayane called me and wanted to go out to eat together.”

Your heart stung at the memory. The sight of his back getting up from your couch while completely ignoring the hurt in your eyes was still engraved into your memory, even if you spent months trying to forget it. You had called his name, but he was too busy eagerly chattering on the phone to even hear you. When he turned around, it was to bid you goodbye before abruptly leaving you with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and an animated movie still running that you no longer felt like finishing.

“I’m sorry for making you think you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Did you make an impact on his life? Deep down, you had hoped you did, so he’d always remember you.

“I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship.”

That, he definitely did.

“I’m sorry for being the worst friend ever. I miss you so much, Y/N.”

Why were you crying again? Your hands came up to wipe at your cheeks before hurriedly video calling Kenma’s phone.

When he picked up, the first thing he did was sigh at the sight of your disheveled appearance. If you weren’t completely in tears, you may have laughed at his attitude towards the situation, but all you could do was let out a weak whimper.

“I think he’s drunk,” he spoke without you needing to say anything. The thought of Kuroo only texting you because he was inebriated hurt you even more.

“He’s such an asshole,” you managed to croak out between your cries. Kenma only nodded, eyes clearly focused on the screen of his PC. Briefly, they turned to look at you again and his expression softened.

“You should’ve blocked him,” he mumbled, and a weak laugh left your lips. “Are you going to reply?”

You were quiet for a bit, before shaking your head.

And with that, Kenma hummed softly. He stayed on the phone with you until you finished crying over his childhood friend, and only hung up when you finally promised him you’d call him again the next day.

Tomorrow came quicker than you thought it would, and you managed to ignore Kuroo’s messages without giving into the temptation to text him back. Your life went back to normal, relatively, aside from one thing.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you for not understanding me when you gave me advice. I was childish, and only wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.”

Now, Kuroo was texting you everyday with something he was supposedly sorry for. And now, you were calling Kenma everyday to beg him to tell Kuroo to stop, to just leave you alone so you could move on. And every day, Kenma would tell you that you both knew how stubborn Kuroo could be when he put his mind to something.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you whenever you needed me even though you were always the first one to worry about me and how I was doing.”

At this point, it had been a few days since the initial text, and you wanted nothing more than to find him and yell at him to leave you alone. You were fine with brief interactions, pretending like your feelings for him never existed and he never regarded you as someone he could trust with his deepest feelings. You were fine with that.

“I’m sorry for being stupid and being able to understand everyone else’s feelings except for my best friend’s.”

But now he was pushing your boundaries. He was asking for more than what you could give him without giving him your entire heart again. You knew, and Kenma probably knew too, that if Kuroo kept doing this, you’d end up forgiving him. You’d give up on all the work it took over the past few months to get over him and go back to being his best friend if he asked you to. All that courage you put in to cut him off in the first place would disappear, and you’d be back to square one.

“I’m sorry for not realizing you liked me, and that I like you too.”

That was the last straw.

“You’re a prick.”

His response was almost immediate.

“Can I call you?”

Before you even had the chance to reply, your phone was buzzing in your hand and you nearly dropped it in your surprise. Without thinking, you picked up. And you cursed yourself for doing that.

“Y/N,” his familiar voice calling your name in that teary tone nearly made you cry again. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip to prevent the sadness crawling up your throat. You could hear the noises of cars passing by on the other line. He must’ve been outside

“Y/N, I missed you so much,” Kuroo’s voice was weak, and cracked a bit as he spoke, as if he too was holding back tears. “Thank you for picking up the phone.”

There was silence between the two of you for a bit before you shakily breathed in.

“Please stop texting me,” you finally managed to mumble. “Please stop thinking that you actually have feelings for me just because I was a comfortable person to fall back to when you didn’t have anyone else to go on dates with at the time.”

“That’s not the case--”

“If that’s not the case, then what is, Kuroo?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “I’ve had these feelings for you for so long, and now all of a sudden I’m gone and you like me too? Fuck off, I can’t believe you of all people would think so lightly of my feelings.”

“Listen,” his voice was pleading. “It’s not like that. Can I talk to you in person?”

“If I see you, I’m just going to cry again,” you laughed bitterly. You could hear shuffling on the other line.

“Then I’ll hold you until you stop crying,” he retorted firmly, and your heart jumped in your chest. How long had you waited to hear him speak like that about you? Like he just might share the same adoration for you that you did for him?

“You won’t even be able to find me,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him. It wasn’t like you were at your apartment, after all. You needed to get away.

“If you really think that,” you jumped at the sound of his voice closer than you thought. Looking up from your feet, your traitorous heart rate raced at the sight of those familiar almond eyes and unfixable bedhead. “Then I must’ve been a really bad friend, huh?”

You spent an excessive amount of time just staring up at him from your spot on the swings, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He had bags under his eyes, and his bedhead was a little messier than it had previously been. Despite all that, the man in front of you was undoubtedly the best friend you’d caught feelings for.

“...how’d you find me?” you finally asked as he took a seat on the swing next to your own.

“I wanna say that I’m just a genius, but honestly, you never removed me from seeing your location.”

Your eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. When you spotted the familiar profile photo of your smiling face on the map, all you could do was sigh. Anxiously, you ran your sweaty palms along your pants to wipe them off.

“I’ve said it a dozen times at this point,” Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pants, “But I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you mumbled, exhausted of his apologies at this point.

“I don’t know what more I can say besides I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly. You couldn’t find the courage to lift your head to look at his probably desperate expression. “I’ll be honest. I wanted to respect your wishes at first. If you wanted distance, I’d give it to you. But the more time passed, the more I missed you.”

You fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your shirt, trying to find any distraction so you didn’t have to listen to his explanation.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, “I thought I was an idiot, for treating you the way I did. I took advantage of how comfortable I was around you, and when you finally left me, I realized how lucky I was to have someone I could be so myself with.”

He turned to look at you, and you finally lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Your heart ached. He looked so tired.

“Have you been eating?” You asked quietly.

“See?” He smiled bitterly. “You care so much about me, and all I do is take that kindness and give nothing back.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes again as he took your hand and placed it onto his cheek, the familiar warmth of his hand reminding you that you truly would never be able to get over him.

“I hate you,” you lied through the tears slipping down your cheeks, “so much for everything you’ve done. For making me fall for you.”

“I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you’ll let me,” his other hand reached up to brush your tears away. “As your friend, and as someone who finally realized his feelings for you too late. And if I’m lucky, I hope you’ll let me back into your life.”

“It won’t be the same,” you admitted honestly. Truthfully, your friendship would never be the same after all the hurt you endured because of him. Things that may have seemed so small to other people hurt you deeply, solely because you trusted him so much.

“I trusted you to be there and to understand me,” you told him, “and you ignored all that. You can’t expect that to be fixed so quickly.”

“I know,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “So I’ll give my all to build a new relationship with you. One where I’ll be better, and won’t hurt you ever again.”

The two of you were silent as you cried. Through your tears, you could see his wet eyes. The sight brought a weak laugh to your lips.

“Kenma said you’re way too stubborn when you put your mind to something,” you smiled sadly. “This is your last chance, Kuroo. Don’t ruin it.”

[shorkbrian]

Anxious

Prelude - It took me three evenings to write this (EW that’s the longest I've ever taken) and it’s RLLY long (almost 10k) so be warned. The style is mean’t to be jumbled, grammatically incorrect, and awful, rushed, and incoherent. My day-to-day life process is like this but worse lol and I wanted to capture just the feeling of bad that exists. Have fun.

(Ps Kirishima is the subtlest of creeps here. Def a stalker, but good at lying, and reader is too gullible.)

Pairing - Yandere Kirishima X GN Reader

Warnings - anxiety, panic attack, non con, NSFW, idk the usual.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/1qFMIjTe9esCDiytqUY19t?si=RrkIvlXMReyT6CYKEh6xdw

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh god, is that Pro-Hero Red Riot?

Your hands tremble as you lift your drink to your lips, take a shaky sip.

It feels too hot in here, is it hot? You scream internally.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Red Riot, your favorite Pro-Hero in the entire world, was currently standing in line at Starbucks, looking up at the menu with his big, dumb, handsome face. He was wearing his hero costume - meaning he was on-duty, abs out and mask on.

As usual, you had ordered your regular drink, immediately sat down (always the blue armchair by the window, the one with the little table next to it).  Normally you ignored each little tinkling of the bell above the door, the sound signaling another person entering the coffee shop. You just wanted to nurse your drink and look at stupid memes on your phone, try to gas yourself up for the day ahead, convince yourself that you would be able to get through whatever life decides to throw at you.

A particularly violent shake of the bell had your head snapping up, the loud noise startling you. 

And holy fuck.

Red Riot.

Your cheeks were burning as you lowered your eyes to your phone, knowing that the big man was moving up in line, then ordering, then probably moving to wait near the drink pickup.

Looking up was out of the question - you didn’t want to ogle the Hero and make him feel uncomfortable, or for him to catch sight of your stupid blushing. 

You almost dropped your drink the next time you raised it to your lips, your hands were so sweaty. 

And of course that little slip-up had your heart beating ever faster, embarrassed that you had almost made a mess all over yourself, self conscious that someone had seen, oh god, what if people were looking at you, thought you were dumb and couldn’t even drink correctly? Oh god.

You set your drink back onto the little table at your side. A quick glance upward (to check the clock, that’s where your eyes went) and you could see Red Riot out of the corner of your eye, smiling as he took a picture with a fan as they both waited for their respective drinks.

Wouldn’t that be cool, to get a picture with him? But oh, that would mean you’d have to stand up, stumble over awkwardly towards him. Could you leave your drink on the side table? Would your seat be taken before you got back?

The hero would probably be able to spot you from a mile away, see how weirdly you walk, how your body looked. The thought made you cringe; he was so muscled and fit and in-shape, he’d probably think you were fat, or maybe weak? He’d be disgusted, wouldn’t he.

If you managed to get close enough to ask him if he wouldn’t mind taking a picture with you, he’d have to hear your voice crack, see how you shook like a tiny chihuahua from nervousness, see how sweaty and flushed you were from the embarrassment of being alive, of being seen.

God, you hated yourself.

You could never approach the Pro-hero and ask for a picture. He’d see how revolting, how weird and nervous and pathetic you were.

Plus, you’d already talked to the barista to get your coffee, had walked to the coffeeshop all by yourself and committed yourself to the horrifying ordeal of being known and seen by society. You’d done enough today to make your anxiety skyrocket, your hands were already shaking so bad, it’s a miracle you hadn’t dropped your drink or your phone or done something stupid and embarrassing to call attention to yourself.

“Red Riot!” Your eyes flickered up at the barista shouting, saw Red Riot smile and compliment the barista as they handed over his drink, something large and brightly colored and sporting an ungodly amount of whipped cream on top.

Red Riot left the Starbucks, the bell above the door jingling just as violently as it had when he had entered - the man was enthusiastic about seemingly everything, even opening and closing a door.

That’s actually one of the reasons he was your favorite. Red Riot was so confident and self assured, beaming with positivity and kindness. It was clear to see that he loved his job, that he loved life. Of course, you had seen him have bad days - in a few of the interviews after big rescues or horrific fights, his smile seemed to waver a bit, his eyes getting misty as the casualties were mentioned.

But that just showed he was human. Sensitive.

You grabbed your drink again, grimaced as nausea washed over you in a gentle wave. You were such a nervous wreck. But Red Riot had left - the only people here now were the employees and the people waiting in line. You just prayed none of them would pay attention or take notice of you.

----

He was here again.

Holy fuck, he was here again!

This time you weren’t as nervous (a mild feeling of excitement could be felt), you could actually drink out of your Starbucks cup without shaking like a leaf.

The redheaded hero had gotten his drink already, once again something large and colorful and probably loaded with sugar.  But instead of leaving immediately, he moved to sit down and holy fuck - holy fuck he was walking right past you.

You didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself by moving - humans will subconsciously look towards movement, you knew that. But he walked further, you saw him sit down by the corner window, settling into the seat comfortably. He was wearing his hero outfit again, abs rippling as he leaned back, and out of the corner of your eye you could see him fiddling with his mask before taking it off and chucking onto the table in front of him.

Ah, so he was probably on a break.

Averting your eyes back to your phone, you tried to ignore his presence.  He was a human being, just like yourself, who deserved and probably appreciated his privacy. God knows, if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want fans to even think about you, much less look at you.

Minutes passed, maybe twenty? Thirty? But you had finished your drink. Now it was time to will yourself to your feet, to breathe, in, out. You were going to walk over to the trashcan, throw your drink cup away, and leave to walk back home.

Oh, but you were nervous.

You always felt nervous - this was a common occurrence, and each time you came here (you visited this Starbucks maybe twice a week)  there was always this fight with your anxiety.

People would look at you as soon as you stood up. Did you walk weird? Your body had weird proportions, people would be mocking you inside their heads as you walked. Your outfit wasn’t trendy, it didn’t fit your body right, you looked odd and out-of-place - that’s probably what people thought as soon as their eyes landed on you.

You’d get judged for your drink cup - the size, because people would probably think it was too big for somebody with your body. Or maybe too small? Would people think you don’t take care of yourself? 

Oh god, what if it slipped out of your hand as you were walking over? Even with it being empty, the noise of the cup hitting the floor would draw everyone’s eyes to you. They’d watch as you scramble to pick it up, and they’d probably think how clumsy and awkward and incompetent you were. 

And what if the trashcan was full? Would you carry your empty cup home with you? That would look weird, someone carrying an empty cup down the street. I mean, who does that? Well, you’d seen other people do it, watched them carry their drink until they reached a trashcan, and then throw it away. But what if there weren’t any public trashcans nearby? You’d look so odd, fumbling along trying so hard to walk normally, to not draw attention to yourself, to blend in with everyone.

Should you turn around to see if there was another trashcan in the Starbucks? Oh, but that might look stupid. The employees had seen you so often, you’d look like a fool for not knowing if there was another trashcan.

Ugh, and your walk. You have to focus on straightening your shoulders, keeping your back straight, moving your arms - just a little, not too much. Taking even steps, not walking with a heavy foot or making any stomping or scuffing sounds. 

There was so much to focus on, too much. And now you had been sitting here for five minutes, knuckles white as you gripped your empty drink cup. You looked like a moron.

You could do this.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Remind yourself that people didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to all of the lame little things that you did. You anxiety was misplaced, you worried about things too much, and everything was fine.

You were okay, you could do this.

And so you stood, walked to the trashcan by the door (oh thank god, it was empty), and threw your cup away.  

You heard Red Riot saying bye to the employees, his cheery, upbeat voice as he laughed at something one of them said. Oh, had something been said about you? Were the employees and Red Riot laughing about what a disaster you were? 

No, you were just being nervous, that was your anxiety talking. Red Riot wasn’t that kind of person, and the employees weren’t either. You knew this. 

The door jingled as you opened it, and you heard footsteps behind you so you moved to the side after you had gone through, holding the door open for whoever was behind you.

“Thanks cutie!”

Red Riot was fixing his mask as he strolled past, and your head snapped up, flushing fiercely as you met his gaze. You smiled awkwardly, throwing up a feeble thumbs-up. 

Oh god, why did you do that?

Red Riot smiled back at you, giving his own exuberant thumbs-up. Well, at least he was doing it too. That made your anxiety quiet down a bit, emboldened by your favorite Pro-Hero.

You watched his broad back as he walked away, muscles flexing with each step. He really was a beautiful man, both inside and out.

----

The next time you went to Starbucks, you reached the door right as someone else did (even though you saw them walking towards the door, even though you slowed down your pace so they would reach the door first and would go inside so you wouldn’t have to do that awkward dance of who-gets-the-door and who-goes-inside-first).

But they pierced through the awkwardness, yanked the door open for you and stepped to the side and motioned for you to go in first.

It was Red Riot.

He was wearing casual clothes today, ripped jeans and a dark hoodie, but you’d recognize that spike red hair anywhere, those gleaming shark teeth too.

You nodded your thanks quickly, hurrying through the door so he wouldn’t have to stand there for long. Immediately you headed for the bathroom, not wanting to have the Pro-Hero standing in line behind you. He was intimidating, but in the nicest way possible. You were just afraid there was something about you that he would think to be weird, or odd, or out-of-place. 

Better to just avoid the situation altogether. 

When you finished your business (you were a nervous pee-er), you ordered your drink, deciding to be bold this time and try something different from your usual choice.  It was the little things, the small little bits of life that made you anxious - those were the things that you tried to overcome. I mean, life’s all about the small victories, right? And hopefully if you built up enough small victories, you could have a really big victory someday, like telling your favorite barista that you liked her hair, or picking a different seat to sit in, or trying to make a friend with another customers as you waited in line.

But for today, the small victory was stepping outside of your comfort zone just a little bit, getting something new that you weren’t used to.

You ordered, waited patiently for your drink to be made, and then turned to go settle down in your blue armchair by the window.

And Red Riot was sitting in your seat.

Fuck.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty, and you felt the familiar pang of an upset tummy. You were so tired of being nervous, of freaking out every single time there was a small change that you weren’t aware of, or if something happened that you couldn’t control.

There was an armchair opposite the one you always chose - also blue, but not as comfortable and certainly not with a good view out the window. It directly faced your usual spot, but in all your time coming here, no one had ever sat in it. A first you had just figured it was uncomfortable, but as you came here more and more, you figured that the nook was probably for couples rather than individual coffee drinkers. 

The time you visited was a bit odd, eight PM, a few hours before closing. But it was the least crowded at this time, and the sun was barely setting, and it was the perfect time for you to be unbothered and by yourself.

But there was Red Riot, invading your (unofficial) space.

But it was okay, you could just sit somewhere else.

It felt weird, sliding onto one of the chairs at a small table. You were so used to your usual, safe routine that this threw you off. You were shaking so bad that you missed your mouth on your first try of sipping at the straw. What an idiot. 

You had to try again, holding the straw this time, before you could actually taste the drink.

Selfishly, you wished Red Riot had chosen a different chair.  But he was entitled to sit anywhere he liked, and it was obvious he enjoyed this particular Starbucks. Judging by the familiarity with the employees, he was becoming a regular like yourself.  You only came once or twice a week, but he probably got his drink fix more often than you did.

Hopefully he didn’t think you were stalking him.

Oh god, what if he thought you were stalking him? How would you show that you weren’t stalking him? Come on a different day? At a different time? But you were here first, this was your routine, and that was your chair!

But man, you really didn’t want to make the Pro-Hero uncomfortable - he’d probably had a few crazy fans who had stalked him before.

Sighing, you sipped slowly at your drink, pulling out your phone to look at memes and text a few to your friends. You could still go about your routine, even if you were sitting in a different spot.

----

You ran into him at the grocery store.

It was in the produce aisle, where you were trying to decide between red apples or green, weighing the pros-and-cons of each decision in your head. You probably looked like an idiot, standing in front of the apples and doing nothing but staring at them, but you needed to ignore that right now.

“Yo, Starbucks buddy!”

The shout rang out across the produce section, and you flinched, suddenly drawn out of your apple-selection process. 

It was late, almost ten PM, who and why was shouting in the grocery store??

You weren’t one to turn and stare, but you were curious, and surely whoever shouted like that wouldn’t mind a few questioning looks thrown their way. 

And so you glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see a bunch of teenage boys greeting each other, or maybe a man saying hi to his friend.

Red Riot was excitedly waving at you.

Your brain blanked. Immediately, you turned your head, trying to see if there was someone else he was waving at. But there was no one around you - hell, there wasn’t even anyone else in the produce section except for you and the hero. 

So he had to be waving at you.

Turning your whole body this time, you gave an awkward imitation of his wave, and let out a soft, croaky “Hey…” as the big man walked closer. 

He had a big dumb smile on his big dumb face, and as he reached you, it grew even wider.

“Starbucks buddy! I didn’t mean to make you flinch, my bad. I know I can get a little loud sometimes, haha.” He stopped right in front of you, a grocery basket filled to the brim with meat and a few vegetables clutched on one of his large hands. God, he was so strong, you would be struggling to carry such a heavy basket, and here he was lugging it around like it had nothing but a loaf of bread in it. Red Riot could probably squish your skull to a pulp with just his hand, goddamn he was big.

You shrugged at his words, desperately willing your brain to work and to think of something smart and eloquent and good-to-say. “It’s uh, it’s-it’s fine. I’m just y’know, one of those nervous people, y’know?”

Wow. 

Good job brain.

But the Pro-Hero smiled gently, putting his basket down on the ground. 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

Wait, what?

“I’ve seen you a couple times at Starbucks, the one on Grant and 1st. You always seem… well, nervous whenever I see you. At first I just thought it was because I was there, cause y’know, people have different reactions to seeing heros out in public.” 

Your eyes were big, you felt your face erupt in an embarrassed fire, and your hands were fucking sweaty. Why couldn’t you have been born like, a blade of grass? A tree?  Some non-sentient object that didn’t have to worry about thoughts or talking or how other people perceived it?

Red Riot continued, “But I’ve seen you a couple of other times; once on the subway, a few times at that park on the north side of town, haha, you really get around, dont’cha?” 

Ah yes, now would be a good time for something to happen, like a plane to crash into the building and kill both of you instantly. Or some emergency that required his immediate attention, one that was so big and urgent that he would forget about you instantly.

His red eyes were drawn to your leg, which you were subconsciously wiggling like a toddler. His eyes softened, and his voice lowered an octave. “You always seem a bit… anxious.  And I know that feeling, believe it or not. I used to be really insecure and nervous when I was younger-“

Oh, great. Now he was just calling attention to the fact that you were acting like a fucking child, that you were a fully-grown adult that couldn’t handle being out in the world because it was too nerve-wracking. Were you really that easy to read? 

“-but I had some awesome people to help me through it. My moms were always really supportive, and they took such great care of me. It was rough for a little bit, but I learned how to be confident and how to strut my stuff and it’s helped me to help others. It’s sorta why I became a hero, actually.”

You smiled again, nodding. That made sense - each and every hero had a reason for why they wanted to help the general public, and of course Red Riot’s reason would be pure and inspiring.

“But uh, anyways! I just saw you shopping and thought I’d say hi to my Starbucks buddy. I was hoping you’d come and sit by me the other day, when I sat in the place you usually sit? But I understand that it’s sorta intimidating to approach a hero, even one in civilian clothing.”

Shoot, so he’d wanted you to sit by him that day? And here you were thinking that he had unintentionally commandeered your seat and was just trying to be left alone. God, you were so stupid. 

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry!” You stuttered out, face hotter than the actual sun. “I didn’t realize! I figured you always have people trying to get an autograph or a picture and you probably just want privacy, and I thought that maybe you just wanted to sit there and hadn’t gotten a chance to because I always sit there, which honestly that’s such a selfish thing for me to do - I should probably try to vary the places I sit so I don’t like-“

“Ah, don’t worry about it! You’re fine, okay? Trust me.” Red Riot patted your shoulder (yup, he could definite squeeze your head like a grape), before leaning down to grab his basket off the floor.

“Oh, well uhm, t-thank you, Mr. Red Riot” You resisted the urge to bow.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed, looking slightly surprised, “Call me Kirishima, none of that “Red Riot” stuff, alright?”

Confusion overtook you. “Uh, that’s only for your friends, civilians should respect the heros and call them by their chosen names.” At least, that’s what you had always been told.

But Red Riot just grinned. “Well, what’s your name?”

With a slight shake in your voice, you told him.

“I know your name now, so I officially deem the two of us as friends!” With his free hand, he patted you on the shoulder again. You shivered, and Red Ri-Kirishima seemed to notice.

“You alright (Y/N)? Didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”

“No, no… I’m just… kinda weird about touch I guess.” That was an understatement. You were so incredibly sensitive, every light touch felt searing, hugs always were too much sensation, you shuddered even thinking about cuddling - you were just too sensitive to touch.

Red-Kirishima stepped back, holding his hand up apologetically. “Oops, my bad. I kinda noticed that about you too, I should’ve remembered.”

At your questioning glance, the man hurried to continue. “Well, y’know, I saw that couple bump into you on the subway, and you looked like you were gonna cry. And then, like, at Starbucks you make an effort to not touch the barista’s hands when they give you your change.”

Great, so that was another thing you were obvious and weird about. Just great. You felt embarrassed that Kirishima had noticed that about you so easily, but you guessed being observant was part of his job. 

“Well, I’m gonna go check out now, unless you need help with your groceries?” The man motioned to your barely-filled basket, and you shook your head.

“No, it’s-it’s okay. I can handle this, but thank you.”

Kirishima gave you a thumbs up. “Alright, sounds good. Although, are you planning on walking home?”

You shook your head yes, prepared to receive the “its not safe” talk.  You knew it wasn’t safe, but it was just a few blocks, and you had made the walk to your apartment a million times, plus, you couldn’t afford to pay for an uber or a cab.

“It’s pretty dark out there, mind if I walk you home? I’m a hero and all, I promise I’m not going to try and steal your wallet.”

And there it was.  For someone as nervous as yourself, walking alone in the dark really was no issue. Maybe it’s cause you weren’t afraid of someone trying to hurt you. You looked poor, you were ugly as fuck, and it was only a couple of blocks.

‘It’s okay Mr. R-Kirishima, I don’t mind. I’ll probably be here for a bit longer, don’t worry about me.”

He probably had other things to tend to, and even if he didn’t, you weren’t important enough to make a Pro-Hero go out of his way to walk you home. You were such an inconvenience already, it would just make you feel worse about yourself. And would you have to make small talk as the two of you walked? 

Would he try and insist upon carrying your groceries? Would he want to walk up to your apartment floor with you? Or would he say goodbye in the lobby? Once again, best to just avoid the situation altogether. 

Plus, you knew the hero was just trying to be polite. He probably didn’t actually want to walk you home.

Kirishima tried to offer again, but you turned him down, shaking your head, self-consciously drawing your shoulders up. You probably looked so stupid, like a scared little dog that had gotten yelled at. But it was a nervous reaction, and it felt better than just trying to stand there like a block.

Kirishima smiled gently, told you to have a safe night, and then left to go check out.

You turned back to the apples, trying to focus back on which color you should get, stuck between red, or green.

----

The next time you visited Starbucks, your regular spot was once again empty. It was almost a relief, seeing that you wouldn’t have to figure out if Kirishima wanted to talk today or not, if he wanted you to sit by him, or if he was just trying to make small talk back at the grocery store.

So you settled in, warm hot chocolate in hand as you looked out the window, watched cars whiz by on the street, rain puttering down softly.

And then Kirishima was bursting through the door, sending the door bell jingling in a frenzy, rain patterned heavily over his jean jacket, His eyes immediately found you, and his face lit up in a smile.

“(Y/N)!!!!”

You gave a little wave, watching as Kirishima smiled cheerily at you, before quickly ordering a drink. Immediately, the muscled redhead came to sit down in the armchair opposite you, panting a little bit.

“Wooo, I had to run here, started raining on me!”

“I can tell.” You let out a small laugh, noticing how his spiky hair was drooping from getting rained on. 

“Glad to see you got home okay the other night.” The male blurted, leaning forward so he could strip off his jacket.

You paused. “What do you mean?”

He flashed you a grin, throwing his jacket over the back of the chair. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Ah, he had a point.

His name was called, and Kirishima jumped up and went to pick up his drink before plopping back down in the armchair with a sigh.

“So, (Y/N), you ever been to the ocean before? All this water, the streets might be an ocean by the time we leave.”

Kirishima proceeded to launch into a story about the time he went to the ocean with his buddy Bakugou, how they had swam with turtles and even got to see a whale.

You were glad he was doing all the talking, letting you sit back and listen while you sipped at your hot cocoa. There was no pressure for you to talk, no pressure for you to try and fumble for the right words. And it was nice, seeing the big hero be so excited and animated, gesturing with his hands and almost spilling his drink all over himself.

As you listened to him talk, you settled back further into the armchair contentedly. He was a nice person to be around, you could see yourself being friends with him, if he didn’t mind.

——

And friends you did become.

It wasn’t long before the two of you exchanged numbers - Kirishima had wanted to send you a picture of a dog he had seen the other day while he was out patrolling.

The two of you texted memes to each other, cute pictures of animals, and even though your anxiety was loud and demanding and convinced you that you were bothering the man, Kirishima always assured you that was never the case.

He always seemed to be able to tell when you were feeling anxious, when nervousness settled deep in your bones and refused to leave. You slowly began to notice that with Kirishima, your anxiety was quieter. It was easy to let the exuberant man to take the lead, for him to make decisions, whether to walk up and ask to pet the cute dog or not. It was freeing in a way, letting your new friend take your anxiety and make it be quiet. 

After all, no one gave you a second glance, now that you were trailing behind Pro-Hero Red Riot. 

Kirishima was such a character, goofy, cheerful, and always sporting a sunny disposition. His casual fashion consisted of the most god-awful color combinations and mixed patterns. It wasn’t uncommon for the man to bounce towards you in greeting, wearing neon green crocs, dark blue overalls that were plaid, and a head-ache inducing black-and-white psychedelic shirt. Somehow he made it all work, and didn’t look odd or out of place.

You admired him, truly. You wished you could have his confidence, his attitude and bouncy personality. If you had confidence like that, you could probably do anything. As it stood right now, you could barely approach someone on the street and ask to pet their dog.

It had been so embarrassing, walking with Kirishima down the street and listening to him talk between gulps of a bright pink slushy. You spotted a woman walking a dog on the other side of the street, a big dog, fluffy and sweet-looking and happily walking along it’s owner, stopping to sniff at each plant that grew in the cracks of the sidewalk.

“Cute, I wish I could pet that dog.” You interrupted Kiri’s story, gazing wistfully at the dog. 

Kirishima paused, swiveling his head to see what dog you were talking about. Once he did, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hand. “Lets go pet it then!” But when he tried to pull you forward, you balked, pulling your wrist backward. 

“I-I can’t, it’s….. I don’t know, It’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, studying you as he took another slow sip of his slushy. You had your own slushy, a significantly smaller size than the beefy Pro-Hero’s own giant cup.  

“(Y/N), it’s okay - I’ll do all the talking, ‘kay?”

He could tell that the thought of talking to the owner, asking to pet their dog, was making you nervous. What if they said no? What if they thought you were being rude? Would the dog not like you? Would the owner think you looked funny? What if they were hurrying somewhere?

But if Kirishima did all the talking….. maybe you could manage trailing behind him, only emerging from his shadow if the owner said yes to petting their dog. 

You gave the big man a weak smile, nodding gingerly before getting yanked forward, Kirishima already speed-walking towards the lady.

He asked, the lady said yes - you got to pet the absolute cutest dog ever. It was heaven. 

You were grateful for Kirishima - shyly told him as much. If you were by yourself, you would have noticed the cute dog, but done nothing about it, just wished you had the courage to approach and ask if you could pet it.

But with Kiri? He made anything possible.

----

You were worried you were annoying him.

There was no evidence, but still, wouldn’t it be annoying to have an anxious little shadow?  One that shook and stuttered and could barely go to the grocery store without freaking out and having a panic attack? Your fears and feelings weren’t entirely unfounded, I mean,  there were millions upon millions of possible outcomes of any one action. Unfortunately, your brain liked to focus only on the negative options.

But Kirishima never got tired, never got frustrated with you. He didn’t mind ordering for the both of you when you got snacks at a fast-food place during long afternoons. He didn’t mind taking up extra space with his personality, being loud and brash and drawing attention to himself when you felt like everyone was watching you, waiting for you to make a stupid mistake. 

Kiri seemed to like walking you home, helped you check your windows and in the closet and under the bed (not for people, but what if there was some eldritch monster that lurked just out of sight?). He never made fun of you for your feelings or fears, just gently listened and then tried to help you deal with them.

He even got you to be somewhat comfortable with making silly little mistakes in public. One time the man tripped on thin air, spilling warm coffee all over you and himself. Immediately he burst out laughing at his own clumsiness, apologizing between giggles as he heaved himself off the floor and went to go grab napkins.

If you had spilled a drink on him and yourself, you would’ve been asking Siri where the nearest cliff was. But you realized, the same way that you weren’t worried, and how it wasn’t that big of a problem that your shirt was now soaked with sweet coffee and sticking to your skin, Kirishima probably wouldn’t care if you spilled anything on him.

After all, it was an honest mistake.

The big man was helping you to learn how to be more comfortable in the world. But still, the creeping suspicion that he was just being kind to you out of sheer politeness was forefront in your mind. 

So you came up with a question, practiced asking it in the mirror, took several days to build up your confidence to ask Kirishima.

“Do you actually want to be friends with me?”

And sure, that might be a forward question. But you valued honesty, had told him so a few times when he asked you to rate his outfit on a scale from 1-10 (usually it was a solid 10 - his personality making the outfit shine) you tried not to lie to others, and expected the same courtesy from them.

The two of you were in the park, resting on one of the benches after walking around and looking at the different plants (one of your favorite activities, no matter how lame). And now was as good a time as ever, so you popped the question, barely stuttering once.

Kirishima was silent for a bit, and you were almost afraid of looking up at him. The truth would come out now - how he just saw a pathetic little civilian and felt so much pity for them that he decided to be their friend. You were just a burden to him, how could you ever be anything else?

When you dared to look up at the big redhead, the intensity in his gaze had you leaning towards the side nervously, away from the strength of all his attention focused on you.

“(Y/N)…. becoming friends with you was - it’s been the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.” His voice held such sincerity, his face open and honest. You recoiled from the statement, uncomfortable with the compliment. That had to be a lie, he was just saying that to make you feel better. You were so pathetic and weak that other people had to pretend that you were better than you actually were to avoid hurting your feelings. You wished you never existed. Why did you even ask him that question in the first place? There was no way that someone as nice as Kirishima would actually tell you how worthless and pitiful you were.

Large hands grabbed your own, and you jumped. Kirishima’s hands were warm, scarred and calloused, yet soft in their grip as they gently squeezed your own hands. You tried not to flinch at the contact. 

“I know that you don’t believe me, but you should. You know-“ One of his hands went to run through his hair, tousling through it’s straight, un-gelled style, before returning to your hand. “-I was pretty lonely before I met you. Like, I had my squad - Bakugou and Mina and Denki and Sero…. But it just….. There was something missing.”

Kirishima leaned close to you, your sides pressing together, his red eyes trying to catch your own. You were too shy, had to look off to the side.

“There was someone missing. And when I saw you, it felt…. Everything just clicked. I was missing you.”

You could feel his breath fanning against the side of your flaming hot face. It was uncomfortable. He was lying, he had to be. He was just trying to help you be confident in yourself, so he wouldn’t have to baby you and hold your hand and help you do simple things like ordering food or going for walks and not worrying about what people thought of you.

He was just being nice.

For some reason, you felt your throat clog up, felt the spicy sting of tears building up. Why did you feel like crying? You weren’t exactly in tune with any of your other emotions, only paid attention if it was anxiety or fear.  

A thumb rubbed over your knuckles soothingly (it burned), and the next thing you knew you were being enveloped in a bear hug, Kirishima’s arms crushing you into his chest, his pecs pressing against your face. 

Goddamn, he was built as fuck.

You tried to keep still, not squirm away from his touch like a child. You were an adult, you could handle a little bit of discomfort over being touched.

Kiri sighed. “I like being around you (Y/N). You don’t judge me for my mistakes, you accept them - you accept me. You uh, you make me happy dude, like, really happy.”

You chuckled a little bit at the redheads use of the word “dude”. Only a meathead could turn a sappy moment on it’s head by using the word “dude”. Still, you liked the way Kirishima talked, from the excited chatter when he was talking about something he liked, to the slow, comforting honey when he was being sincere and intimate, like now.

At the same time, your heart felt tight, waiting for the inevitable but that was sure to come. For the redhead to explain that he enjoyed your company but he was just being polite to a nervous civilian who couldn’t fend for themselves. You fun to hang out with but it was only because you made him look better, cooler and manlier because he was nice to someone as pathetic as you.

The but never came. You waited and waited, but Kirishima just kept the slow rhythm of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, kept your face pressed into his chest and an arm wrapped around your body. You didn’t know what to do. 

Should you pull back? Your throat felt tight again. Kirishima was lying to you, he had to be. There wasn’t any way that someone would actually enjoy you as a person.

You pulled back from the warmth of his body, pulled your hand away from his. “I don’t….. I want honesty Kirishima. Please? Lies hurt more than the truth, please. I’m not a good person, I’m pathetic and nervous and shy, and I’m too loud sometimes, and my body looks weird, and I’m ugly and disgusting, and-“

“(Y/N), stop.” His voice thundered, cutting you off. Immediately, you fell silent, chest tightening, gaze falling to your lap. He was right. He didn’t need to hear all your insecurities, they were already clear to see. You were such a drag on his life, he probably hated having to deal with you, having to see you.

“Kiri, I’m not uhm-“ Your voice was wavering. “-I’m not feeling so great, I think I’m gonna head home.”

As you stood, so did the redhead. “Please don’t feel obligated to walk me home, I know it’s way out of your way.” He probably hated every second of it, probably insisted just to be polite. Even now, Kirishima was beginning to protest, grabbing at your hand. You pulled back, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Kiri, please.” You whispered, tears threatening to fall. You hated yourself. You hated yourself so much, your chest hurt, your ears felt full, everything felt too heavy and bad - there weren’t even any words to explain it. You just wanted to go home and cry, sob into a pillow.

Kirishima stayed put, probably watching you walk away from the park. God, you hoped he wasn’t, you walked so weirdly. Why couldn’t you just disappear?

——

You tried your best to disappear. 

You did the bare minimum, turning in assignments an hour before they were due, half-assing them. You hardly ventured out of your room, only to grab water or to use the bathroom.

Neighbors kept knocking on your door, probably the couple in the apartment opposite you, asking for a cup of sugar so they could make cookies, or wanting to tell you that your mail downstairs was getting full. But being the person you were, you were far too nervous to go answer the door. You were probably annoying people. It would just be better for the world if you weren’t in it, wouldn’t it?

Kirishima kept trying to text you, call you (Even though he knew you couldn’t pick up - calls terrified you), trying to coax you to go on a walk with him, to come get coffee or a slushie with him when he finished working. You brushed him off with lame excuses, telling him you were sick, backtracking when he said he was coming over with soup and movies. You didn’t feel well enough for company. 

Still, the man kept texting you several times a day, then only a few times, and now it was down to just once a day. In one corner of your mind, it hurt. The rest of your mind knew that it was for the best, knew that his life was going to be better because you weren’t going to be there bothering him. 

His texts consisted of simple messages now, ones you felt bad not responding to, but if you did respond, you hated yourself for the rest of the day. You sucked.

“(Y/N), look at this dog!” *IMAGE ATTACHED*

Cute.

“Yo, you wanna come get something to drink at our place? They have a deal on coffee today!”

Sorry Kiri, I’m not feeling too good today. You should go get a drink though, have fun!

“I saw some people rollerskating in the park, we should try that!”

Yeah.

“Would you wanna go for a walk sometime?”

I don’t think so, I’m pretty busy right now. You should go and get sunshine though, you deserve it!

“We need to go to our Starbucks soon, I need COFFEE haha”

(:

“Gonna ever come see where I work? I can show you my office, it’s super cool!”

“(Y/N), you doing okay?”

“I miss you.”

----

You woke up to the sound of your neighbors (or maybe the complex manager?) knocking on your door.  Anxiety filled you, palms immediately becoming clammy, so you fumbled around your bed, searching for your earbuds. Maybe if you could listen to music, you could calm down? Sometimes that worked, sometimes not. It really depended on how worked up you were.

Luckily you found them, quickly stuffing them in your ears as you queued music up on your phone. The knocking faded out as music filled your ears, but your anxiety still persisted. You curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow to your chest, almost on the verge of tears from nothing more than a few knocks at your door. You were such a burden to society.

It took a minute, but your heart stopped racing, palms stopped sweating, and you fell back asleep. You were so tired of being awake.

----

You awoke a second time to hands carding gently through your hair. It felt weird for a brief second, but you just ignored the feeling - until you remembered that you lived alone, and the front door was supposed to be locked. 

Squeaking in panic, you shot up, eyes wide, scrambling back into the corner of your bed, clutching the blanket to your chest. 

Kirishima blinked at you, hand still hovering over where your he’d had previously been. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes off, bare feet on the floor.

Your eyes were still wide with fear, chest heaving with panic, but you managed to rip out your earbuds. “Kirishima? How-how did you get in?!? What are you….” You trailed off, tugging your blanket closer around your body as you realized that you were in your pajamas. They weren’t provocative, nor exposed any skin, but they drowned your form, were probably stained and most likely dirty, and you definitely looked awful. But back to the issue at hand, how did Kiri get in your apartment?

The man in question gave a dorky little wave, lips quirking up ever so slightly. 

“(Y/N), hey! I haven’t seen you in so long!” He paused for a second, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious. “I missed you… I was kinda worried.”

“But how are you- I mean…. inside?” You stuttered, completely flustered.

“Oh, I talked to the complex manager, said I was a family member who was really worried about you. Showed him how you haven’t been answering my texts…. I was really worried (Y/N). You were giving such weird replies to my texts, and then you stopped answering completely, and no one answered the door whenever I knocked.”

Wait, that was him knocking? All those times?

You were going to jump out the window. 

“Kiri… I didn’t mean to worry you, I just… You shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Why not? I care about you, I… I wanted to see you.”

It was time to be honest, say the things that were painful to say. The truths that hurt your heart, but needed to be said. Otherwise, Kirishima just wouldn’t get it.

“Kiri, I’m not-I’m not worth your worry. I don’t deserve it. I’m a nervous, depressed wreck, who can’t even open a door or answer the phone. You’re-you’re being nice to me cause you’re a good person. I don’t think I should be… well, like, around you. I just-I bring you down, and you have to do stuff for me and reassure me and I’m such a burden. Please just, I don’t know, please just don’t give me any more attention. I’m so stupid and gross and you should be friends with someone who isn’t….. isn’t like me.”

You finished your rant, almost breathless, choked up, feeling ready to cry.

Silence reigned between the two of you, everything quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic clicking of your fan.

It was uncomfortable. But you’d said your piece. It’d be weird if you said anything else, right? Should you say something else? Was he going to hate you for wasting his time? Holy crap, Kirishima is gonna hate you for wasting his time, for not telling him that at the beginning, when he first got to know you.

“(Y/N)-“ The sound of Kirishima’s soft, low voice made your head snap up, up to his face. He was looking at you, red eyes dark and large and filled with… pity? Sadness? “-I don’t even know how to tell you how wrong you are about that.”

The blanket shrouding your body was quickly pulled away, Kirishima discarding it to the side so he could shuffle closer to you, wrap you in one of his signature death-grip hugs. You were quickly pulled into his arms, the large man hunched over you as he squeezed you tight. It didn’t feel good. You wished he would remember that you didn’t like to be touched.

“I was pretty sure of my feelings before… well, before you asked if I wanted to be friends with you. And truthfully, I wasn’t exactly honest with you.” Your heart gave the tiniest squeeze. You knew he had been lying to you, but yeah, it did kinda hurt to hear him admit it. 

“I kinda wanna be more than friends with you, actually.”

His hold on your body loosened, pulling back so he could look at your face. Your ugly, about-to-cry, gross face. You tried to turn away, pull out of his grip and find your blanket and crawl underneath it and stay there until you died. There was no way he was coming onto you - you weren’t good enough for him. He was Kirishima, Red Riot, pro hero, sunshine of the world, manliest and strongest guy out there.

And you were just….

You.

Kirishima didn’t let you move away. He grabbed your arms, pulled you up a bit so you were at his level. “I’m serious about this. I know you don’t believe me, all that anxiety and nervousness trying to lie to you, but….” A quick glance at his face showed the redhead to be blushing. “I’ve wanted to be more than friends from the moment I first saw you.”

Exasperated, almost angry at this point (he was lying), you scoffed, wiggling in his grip to signal that you wanted to let go. 

“Kiri, I held a door open for you, it was nothing special. I’m ugly and lame and I panic over the slightest things, stop lying to me and saying that I’m someone worth your time.” Surprised, Kirishima loosened his grasp on your arms, and you moved away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I could never be worth your time.”

Was silence becoming a trend between the two of you? Apparently, because Kirishima didn’t say anything, just crawled over and sat down next to you. The big man was hardly ever silent, always talking about this, that, or the other. You were just a pro at messing things up, weren’t you?

A moment longer of sitting awkwardly in silence. You couldn’t take it anymore, you wanted to be able to cry about your shameful existence in peace, without having to entertain Kiri’s pity and lies.

“Can you….. Can you-you go…. Please?” You whispered, hugging your arms around your body. Oh yeah, you had forgotten you were in your gross, oversized pajamas. Just another thing for you to feel bad about.

Kirishima didn’t move.

Afraid he hadn’t heard you, you turned bright red, what an idiot - you can’t even speak loud enough to be heard. You stuttered as you started to repeat your request, but Kirishima cut you off.

“Why can’t you see?” He turned to you. “You’re the most lovely thing, I want to be around you all the time. Why can’t you see that you’re the most wonderful person in the world?”

Horrified, you reeled back. He was just pushing more lies. You felt so uncomfortable, you hated this, you wanted him to stop. “That’s-that’s just some fantasy Kiri…. I’m awful. Please, just go-“

“No.”

No? His voice sounded different, harsh and filled with authority. You looked at your feet, settled against the bare floor. You just wanted to sleep, and sleep, and never have to wake up. Why did being a human have to be so hard? 

Might as well let the big redhead say his piece, make you feel worse about yourself. Then you could shove him out the door and spend the next week sobbing yourself sick.You felt bad, you couldn’t even explain your own emotions, put a name to this feeling that was painful and clawed at your chest like it was trying to rip you apart.

“You aren’t understanding me (Y/N). That’s no fantasy of mine - that’s reality.” A large hand grabbed your chin softly, turning your face towards Kiri’s. “Whenever I come up with a fantasy that involves you, I end up fucking my fist ’til I go raw.” 

The admission made you stutter, and you hadn’t thought it was possible for you to blush harder, but here you were - twelve shades redder than the reddest tomato. 

Kiri didn’t give you a chance to breathe. “I missed you so much, you don’t even realize. I could compliment you until I go blue in the face, but you’re so shy and nervous and adorable, you’d never, ever believe me.”

Well, that much was true. At least he knew you well.

“So instead, I’m just gonna show you how much you mean to me.”

Soft lips met your own, a hand fisting into your hair and twisting your head back to make kissing you easier for Kiri. You couldn’t even think, barely had presence of mind to push at the solid man, hitting his chest. You felt ugly, and gross, and stupid and weak, was this some sort of prank? This had to be some sort of prank. There’s no way Kirishima could actually be attracted to you.

Your mind was drawn to the present when a sharp blossom of pain emanated from your lip. Kiri pulled back, a single drop of blood running down his chin as he stared at you, your foreheads almost touching.

“Don’t get in your head, I want you here. Don’t think, just feel.” 

You wanted to say something, to open your mouth and ask him again to leave. He shouldn’t be kissing you, he should be kissing someone prettier, stronger, someone who had their life together. 

You wanted to protest, but you were being pushed onto your back on the bed, Kiri’s large, calloused hands grabbing at your limbs and bodily moving you however he saw fit despite your squirming.

“Kir-stop-stop touching! Don’t, please, I’m-I’m so gross-“

His lips were on yours again, swallowing your cries as he moved the two of you around on the small bed until you were splayed out underneath him. He was moving so quickly, with such confidence and self-assuredness that you couldn’t keep up. His hands were starting to squeeze at your waist, his thighs bracketing your own as the big man got comfortable over you, leaning down to avoid breaking the deep, passionate kiss.

Your lungs were burning.

You had to pull your face to the side, pushing at Kiri’s shoulders as you did so, making panicked noises as you tried (and failed) to take in air through your nose. How the hell was Kiri holding his breath this long? 

The man finally got the hint, letting you pull away from him, gasping for air. You felt dizzy, his hands were still squeezing and stroking over your waist, it was too much. As you tried to get your breathing under control, you glanced up at your friend, red-faced, on the verge of tears. Why was he doing this? You were so gross, ugly, nothing when compared to how fit and muscular and handsome Kirishima was.

HIs eyes were dark, chin smeared red from the blood earlier - you bet your chin looked the same. His chest rose and fell rapidly, seemingly also out of breath, but the moment your eyes met his, the man was descending again, this time to press hot kisses all over your face, on your jaw, behind your ears.

“Don’t, oh, please don’t. Kiri-why are you-? Stop-“ You gasped, the sensations of his lips trailing across your skin too much for you to handle. A kiss to the column of your throat had you jolting, trying to sit up, not knowing what you were doing but trying to get away. It was too much.

“Lay back.” Kiri’s deep voice rumbled. “Let me make you feel good. You’ll forget about the anxiety, okay? Just focus on me.”

You didn’t want to focus on him. But at the same time, the situation was so overwhelming, you didn’t know what to do except let him push you back down with a hand on your chest. 

Before you could process what happened, your clothes were off, his clothes gone as well. You wanted to shriek; cry and cover yourself and tell Kirishima to leave, but everything was happening too fast, and your body couldn’t keep up. 

You felt floaty, buzzy, like you were in a weird dream, ears stopped up full of cotton. 

Wet fingers prodded at your entrance. Oh, were they Kiri’s? When had they gotten wet? The fingers retracted, and you watched Kirishima gather the saliva in his mouth before spitting onto his hand. 

Ah.

The fingers were back, one pushing into you, the pressure too deep, too tight, too harsh. You knew in the back of your mind that you probably looked so stupid, gasping and shivering and shaking, but you couldn’t control it.

One finger turned into two, then three, then four, and then they were gone, something much bigger trying to split you open.

You felt sick.

You couldn’t move.

Kirishima was kissing your face again, his touch burning, making your skin feel tingly and painful and rough everywhere he touched. It hurt. He was saying something, but your ears were buzzing, everything felt fuzzy and weird, and you didn’t know where to look, what to do, except lie there and let the man continue.

He was soft, gentle. But no amount of easy touches or reassuring words were getting through to you, just the overwhelming sensation of being too full, nausea thick in your stomach, throat closing up. The room tasted like blood.

The pressure wasn’t going away, just building and building and building as Kirishima thrust into you, until eventually a twinge of pleasure slipped into your system alongside the discomfort of being filled. 

It felt weird… nice? You couldn’t tell anymore.

There was only sweat, slick, slapping noises, rough hands running over your skin, words being said. You couldn’t grasp anything. 

You felt full, empty, all at the same time. 

The pleasure built, higher and higher and higher until it burst into little sharp fragments that ran through your veins, zinging into your wrists, sparking through your tummy.

And then there was warmth inside you, and the part of you still lucid recognized that Kirishima had just cum inside your body.

You couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

----

Kirishima was laying beside you, making shushing sounds, stroking your hair, pulling the blanket up around the two of you.  The pressure between your legs was gone, as was the stinging pleasure that had spilled all over your body. You couldn’t feel, everything was still too much, too loud and bright and rough and warm.

Kirishima was still stroking your hair as you finally calmed down, hyperventilating coming to a stop, shaking still there, but not as violent as it had been. 

“-so strong, and your laugh always makes me happy. I love you, and I know you love me back. It’s gonna take some time for us to work past all this nervous stuff, but I’m not give up. I’ll always be here for you, you know that?”

He was rambling, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your neck, along your collarbone - innocent, reassuring. You closed your eyes. 

“You need someone to be there for you, I know. You get so anxious, and you bottle up your feelings, and I know you get so scared of saying or doing the wrong thing and you just freeze or panic.” He continued. “You won’t ever have to worry about that with me. We worked around it today, yeah? You just relax, and let me lead. I’m never gonna steer you wrong (Y/N).”

You felt cold.

[sendyefrogs]

wish you cared

a/n: this was a rollercoaster to write, and through tears, all i say is, osamu big himbo :/  tw: swearing  word count: 3.9K (lot of word ;-;)  pairing: osamu x gn!reader  genre: angst (if it’s not very good, pls forgiveness, internet person)

The late nights with the light breathy words, whispered discussions, the iridescent illumination of the screen on you face, exchanging words that would have neither rhyme nor reason when the next day greeted you. But not a day went by that you didn’t giggle to yourself, alone in your room, as your eyes skimming over the words that Osamu’s fingers carelessly typed out. And you knew, before you realized, you knew in the deepest of hearts that you were gradually falling for the inane spiker, that this was your middle school infatuation. Little did you realize that this was not, in fact, an infatuation but rather something that would plague you for years, building up for years, overwhelming you, pouring out, resulting in meaningless words and broken hearts.

But for now, it was no different than normal, your heart skipping a beat as he replied to every message of yours, head whirling with possibilities of what he would say next, feeling slightly giddy if you were to describe the emotion you experienced.

The truth was that talking to Osamu Miya, it was like being intoxicated. Not that you truly knew what it meant to be in such a state, but this was what you imagined it to be like. Always waiting for more, desiring to keep going, for the night to just still right then so you may converse endlessly, not having to worry about your mundane duties as the moonlight that shone through your windows left you feeling light-headed and weightless.

But the moon always set to give way to a new day, where you could see him in real time, but none of it felt as ethereal as the late-night talks, as intimate as it was when it was just the two of you alone, as scandalous as it felt spending hours mindlessly revealing the tiniest details of yourself to him.

You’d hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t change when time came for high school; the time, most say, is when old relationships are forgotten, the path to the future is forged, a future you hoped still entailed the time you spent with the Miya twins and Suna. You weren’t ready to move on from Osamu yet, you’d never really gotten to know if he returned the emotions you experienced. And so, you ended up a freshman at Inarizaki High, manager for the volleyball team, an integral part of the group.

You were content. Or so you thought.

Y/n was not someone who forgot easily. This was a thought that occasionally graced the train of thought that ran across Osamu Miya’s mind. They hadn’t forgotten when he said he preferred citrus drinks over plain water, hadn’t forgotten the day he’d mentioned that onigiris were his favorite, or the time he’d wished someone would make him a playlist for when he cooked.

A thought that sprang to mind as he sipped on his lemon water every practice, you beside him, mocking Atsumu, or having sarcastically enthusiastic conversations with Sunarin, or tilting your head upwards to smile at him and telling him about your day while he chuckled lightly.

A thought that crossed his mind every time you cheerfully called out his name during lunch, plopping your pale blue lunchbox on the table, bringing out an onigiri for him every other day, leading to much whining by Atsumu, but he liked it; he was special to you, not his brother, not Sunarin, it was him.

A thought that occurred to him as he put on his headphones, clicking on the song queue you made for him, one that was admittedly perfect for his cooking, calming enough for him to know what he doing, yet passionate enough for him to feel inspired. He never told anyone, but each dish he procured after a day’s cooking, was modelled after a particular song you spent day picking out to put in his playlist; one that was just for him.

He liked being special in your eyes. It made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He noticed, even if you didn’t realize, he noticed everything you did for him. Your encouragement for him at volleyball matches slightly louder than for the rest, not enough for anyone to realize but enough for him to spike the ball down stronger as your voice drowned out the crowds’ cheers for him. The sound of happiness you made eating his food, always motivating him, telling him that he was the best chef you’d ever met. The subtle blush that spread across your face as he patted your head, ruffled your hair. How a simple smile from him could light up your face, no matter how bad you’d been feeling before that.

And how could he ever forget the conversations you had under the covers of darkness? The night only rejuvenated his hope that you were only his, your gentle words and stupid memes, the quiet chuckling under his blankets that made Atsumu throw a pillow at him, yelling at him to take his ‘lover boy’ talks elsewhere.

That was the part he disliked. He was fond of you, of everything you did for him, of how you made him feel like he could do anything when you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. You were his friend. Not everything was about romance. Just because your face made every day, and night, of his better, it did not mean he had to be in love with you. You weren’t exceptionally attractive or anywhere close to the type he preferred, so why did people assume he was in love with you?

For some reason, however, he couldn’t utter those words to you. He knew, that you liked him, else why would you do so much for him? But he chose to ignore it, because if the truth came out and you decided to part ways with him seeing as nothing would ever come out of your efforts, he couldn’t bear it. He needed you. He wanted you.

But not in the way you wanted him. So, he kept you around, no matter how selfish that was.

“Good work, captain!” You smile at Kita-san, handing him a water bottle, quickly moving down the line. “Good work, dipshit.” You toss the bottle to Atsumu who stuck his tongue out at you. “Work, Suna,” you teased and received an eyeroll in response. Handing out all the bottle and murmuring ‘good work’, you finally moved to Osamu.

You loved the whole team and spending time with all of them was something that you adored, but you always saved the last bottle for Osamu. You were sure to keep it separate from the other ones, tucked in the pocket of the basket you carried so you didn’t mistake it for another bottle.

“Here ya go Osamu, good work today! You’re getting so much better.” You face away from him, towards the pair that were walking towards you now that they had a small break.

“Thanks y/n. So, did you decide who you would like as your partner for the English project the teacher assigned us? I mean Sunarin and Atsumu would be glad to have you as their partner too, seeing as you’re the genius among us.” He brought his face down closer, attempting a mocking tone, but it came out as a genuine whisper, directly sounding in your ear, that made a shiver run down your spine.

“W-well, I h-haven’t really decided yet, but I-I was thinking we could work together.” His proximity had flustered you. Your face tilted slightly upwards to him, and only then did you realize that god fucking dammit he’s too close, I can’t think like this. The thumping of your heart against your chest didn’t help either, or the fact that he, apparently, didn’t understand how much you affected him.

You collected yourself before you stuttered anymore. However, barely a word passed your lips that you were interrupted. “Ay lovebirds. This is still a public place. Yer too close to them, ‘Samu. Do you not see how red they’re turning?” You blink twice and throw a punch at the blond, missing completely in your embarrassed state, end up crossing your arms while the two laughed.

“Aw did I say something wrong though? Are you upset I exposed you to your knight in shining covers? Ya talk way too much with him at night. Do you even get any sleep?”

“Just shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Gathering up all the bottles, you walk away, too discomposed to face Osamu after what his twin said. It was probably already obvious to him, but you didn’t want to be humiliated like this in front of someone you held so dear. At the water cooler, you realize you’ve forgotten to bring Osamu’s bottle in your hurry to get as far away from him at that moment as possible. “Fuck.”

You turn back towards the gym.

The three boys watched y/n almost sprint away, laughing lightly. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, and the question echoes in his head. When are you confessing ‘Samu? He wasn’t. How could he when it would just be a lie? He didn’t want to be unfair with you, you deserved a shot at true love. But then again, he wasn’t exactly giving you a chance here was he? Keeping you bound to him, avoiding conversations about admitting romantic intentions, flustering you just for a reaction when he knows, he knows what he does to you.

“You should confess ‘Samu.” His brother’s voice sounded out, unusually soft and serious. Sunarin eyed him, seemingly thinking the same words, but not uttering them. This was the last straw. He had grown tired of people asking him about his affection for y/n, he didn’t realize how or when, but he had. He didn’t want to keep having to repeat the same tactics over and over, dodge and deflect. He was done talking about you in his free time, time he would much rather spend with you than about you, and people just didn’t seem to get it.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” The words came out as a snarl, his temper rising too high too fast. “I don’t fucking like y/n, they’re not my type. I just keep them around because I know they care.” He inhaled, avoiding all the staring eyes of his teammates. The words had come out unintentionally hostile, but he was glad he’d said them. “I mean, have you seen them? They’re not really attractive or interesting at all. It’s just because they make me feel special that they still hang around with us, that I let them hang with us.” His secret came spilling out and he didn’t regret it; he was glad to finally get it off his chest.

Atsumu and Suna, however, weren’t listening to him anymore. They were both staring past him, at the sight behind him, which Osamu whirled around to see. You were standing completely still, arms trembling at your sides, basket of bottles at your feet, eyes glassy.

The whole team followed you with their gaze as you quietly walk to the captain, bow without opening your eyes, murmur out an apology and exit the gymnasium as fast as you could. It was not a swift recognition of what had happened, but Osamu understood eventually that it was his words that had caused this. His brother and Suna merely stood there, shock evident in their eyes. “So, you were just taking advantage of them?” Osamu’s head whipped up at the soft voice of his captain. His words were calm but his expression was one of silent fury. “Do you truly realize how much you broke them with those few sentences? You may not have understood it but, we can all see it. They don’t just care for you, they love you. More than you’ve ever loved anything in your life.”

Osamu was overwhelmed, to say the least. He never intended to hurt you like that, but it had happened. Now, what of all those late-night talks and secret shared smiles? What of the playlists you made for him and the encouraging words you whispered to him before a game? What of his onigiri supply that you procured for him from your little blue lunchbox and the motivating comments you gave him on his cooking?

Before he could stop it, the stinging behind his eyes gave way to tears. Not because he loved you, he still didn’t harbor any romantic intentions towards you, he didn’t want to. But because his heart ached at the thought of being away from you, at the idea of losing you to another group of people, at the realization that you belonged with him.

Belonged with him, just as friends.

Your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. It was bad enough that you learnt that someone you’d been in love with for years now, had just been using you, but it was worse that he admitted clearly it in front of a group of people that you adored. The shattering of your heart as he spoke masked the quiet chatter of his teammates at the display. The humiliation seeped through you, the pitying glances of the team piercing you as Osamu’s words echoed in your ears - have you seen them … not my type … let them hang with us … keep them around … not attractive or interesting.

If that was what he really thought, then why did he let you make those advances? Why did he let you make a laughing stock out of yourself by doing so much for him? Why did he make you believe that he was equally interested, staying up late with you, returning the same energy you exuded?

You knew why now – he wanted to be special. He wanted to bask in the passion that you showed towards him without having to reciprocate any of the emotions. And you gave him that every day, didn’t you? Making him a separate water bottle, bringing him an onigiri, compiling playlists for him, asking him to work with you on the project even if it usually ends up with you doing all the work so you can keep up your grades?

Everything you did, you did for him. What hurt most was that he had been there for you too. He was, in all truth, your best friend. He knew every insecurity, every desire.

The time when your grades plummeted because you stayed up too late, he was there to comfort you, hold your hand and let you lean on his shoulder, cry in fear of what your parents would say, murmuring in low voices about things he did that day to distract you. The time you had refused to leave your room for days after watching that terribly sad anime, he was there to knock some sense into you, but he also laid gentle kisses on your forehead and let you explain ‘everything that was wrong with the world’. The time that he snuck into your bedroom at night just because you mentioned that you were bored and wanted to meet him; cuddling with him until he fell asleep, so you let him stay the night, waking up with his arm around your waist.

And yet, he had absolutely no hesitation in bad-mouthing you in front of everyone you were close with. Did none of that mean anything to him?

Even as the tears streamed down your face, the anger built up slowly, creeping out of you, staying with you long after your face was dry and eyes were left red. And that’s when you decided – Miya Osamu wasn’t special to you anymore. First things first, you had to sort out a few things; your life revolved around the gray-haired spiker. Well, no more.

Pulling out your phone, a text message is sent just a quickly as it is typed out.

y/n [13:25] hey tsumu, I need a partner for the English project. Do it with me or you suck. You were deflecting your emotions with humor, and yet if his face came to mind, you would breakdown right where you stood.

tsum-tsum [13:27] y/n! oh god, where are you????

y/n [13:30] um, home? Where else would I be?

tsum-tsum [13:31] are you okay? I think you should let ‘Samu explain himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that. It was probably all just a lie, just so he didn’t have to answer us.

y/n [13:40] Atsumu I know yer his brother but you don’t have to cover for him like this. He said what he said. We all heard him loud and clear. It’s alright, each to their own ig.

tsum-tsum [13:42] y/n I know what he did is wrong but hes locked himself in his room and he needs to process his feelings. Yer the only one who can talk to him, so please please im begging, help him out.

y/n [13:50] I appreciate the offer but I will have to decline. It’s not often you find out yer being used by someone you love, and you rarely want to see their face after.

tsum-tsum [13:51] love? tsum-tsum [13:51] you actually love him?

y/n [13:52] ah fuck. don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want him to know this now, after he told us how he feels. y/n [13:53] Tsumu? Hello?? y/n [13:53] please don’t do it.

Osamu felt… empty. It was like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think. He was sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He tried to contact you, but none of his calls went through and his texts were undelivered. Was this how it was going to be? No more midnight conversations, no more spontaneous gifts, no more affection or encouragement? He had never implied that he wanted a relationship with you, then why were you so broken?

He never intended anything romantic… did he?

He was a fucking liar and he knew it. He knew what he was doing when he snuck into your room to spend the night with you. He knew what he does when he puts his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort. He knew how you felt every time he stood behind you, your breathing slightly faster, a faint blush running down your neck, struggling not to stutter over your words.

Osamu wanted to scream. Everything about you was adorable. When you weren’t with him, it ached. His arms itched to wrap themselves around you, forehead leaning against yours, your lips moving against his ears, telling him that it would be okay when the coach yelled at him; calming him down when Atsumu got on his nerves; making him smile when nothing went his way. You were there, since middle school, and he never got tired of being around you.

You were his as he was yours. And he…

He loved you.

The tears finally came. Messy and fast, moans escaping his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, tears welling up and spilling over no matter how hard he tired to wipe them away. The door slammed open and a furious Atsumu grabbed him by his collar. Osamu could barely fight back, much too devasted as the words he said in the gymnasium came echoing back to him. He loathed himself, for saying all that, even as he knew, you were the light in his life.

Atsumu was yelling at him but the words fazed past him. Out of the blue, his face stung, a slap landed squarely on his face. “Yer so stupid, ‘Samu. They loved you. They loved you and this is how you respond?” Only at Osamu’s sobbing calls for you did Atsumu realize that maybe, maybe his brother had finally understood his own emotions. “Are ya- are ya okay?” The blond wrapped an arm around his twin, pulling him in close while the latter wept, for minutes, hours. It was his own fault, for not seeing all the signs and now he had lost you forever. “It’s not forever ‘Samu. Not if you fix it right now. Do you really want to give them up?”

Cries slipped past Osamu’s lips. No, no he didn’t.

The fervent knocks on your door gave way to the shaking figure of Miya Osamu, his hands balled up in fists, head aimed downwards as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. “Y- y/n.” His arm wiped across his face, failing miserably to compose him. “Pl-please talk to me. I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

Merely the sight alone was almost enough for you to reach out to him; almost. “Go away Miya. I would like to retain my dignity, thank you very much.” You reached to swing the door shut, only to be blocked by a trembling arm. There were no words but you could see it in his eyes – something, something had changed. It was saddening, watching the strong, self-confident spiker fall to his knees at your bedroom door, no longer able to hold it open.

You’d tried all your life to pry open the door between the two of you, making every effort to keep you both close, getting along with his friends, cutting off ties with anyone he didn’t deem fit to interact with you. You did it for him – but you were tired; holding the door open this long, it hurt, a deep ache that pulled on your heart strings; binding you to him but at what cost?

“I wish-,” your voice came out quivering, your lips carefully trying to form words around the lump in your throat. Osamu glanced up, gazing at your through watery eyes, hopeful, longing. “I wish you would have told me, before I invested so much of myself. But then again, I should have realized, that when something seems too good to be true, Miya, it usually is.”

He gets up slowly and reaches to you, with shivering fingers, but you step back and his fingers clench into a loose fist, eyes showing emotions that have never graced his face before. Atsumu promised, it’s probably not too late yet. You can still convince them. But behind your stained face, was resignation. You were no longer his. He had lost you, the ground underneath him crumbling away, the thread that you had so carefully woven the only thing connecting the both of you.

A thread, that could not bear anymore weight. Before he could say anything to bring back what you had before, you spoke. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry I wasn’t everything you wanted. But I’m done. My heart is tired of being played with.” You glanced at him with determination clear in your eyes.

“N-no, no please y/n. Let me explain.”

“I think, I think this is goodbye Miya Osamu. I hope you find someone who made the moon seem as beautiful to you, as you did for me.” With that, you gave him a forlorn smile, shutting off the door that connected you to him, snapping any threads surrounding you. Not another word was exchanged ever.

And yet, at that moment, you were tied, sitting on either of your mahogany bedroom door, weeping for someone you would never have.

[feral-dumbass]

Speak of the Devil

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: You tag along with Bucky to a undercover reconnaissance mission at a goth club. Smut ensues. 

Includes: Degradation, Choking, little bit of slut shaming, unprotected semi-public sex, hint of cockwarming, dirty talk, oral

Words: 4,307

A/N: This is my first fic I have ever posted on here. I hope I included all the warnings correctly. Not sure if I need to include fingers in mouth, but that happens. Title credit goes to the Misfits. Tagging @gagmebucky​ and @babybluestan​. Thanks for giving me the guts to post this! I am so thankful for you guys. 

Masterlist

The bass of Molchat Doma vibrates the walls as you search for Bucky. When you stepped into the goth club on 66th street, you were more nervous than you liked to admit. The club had recently gone under new management and is rumored to be a place for arms trafficking. It is ingenious, actually. Under all the makeup and leather, anyone could hide their identity. Take Bucky for instance. Tight jeans, a black t-shirt, some eyeliner, and a leather jacket down to his calves, Bucky is unnoticeable. Also, helps that the most identifiable thing about him is covered under gloves. Don’t even get started on the leather band and silver chain wrapped around his neck. You need to fan yourself just thinking about it. 

You also look quite different from your usual lab coat and safety goggles and Bucky has certainly noticed. He could not keep his hand off your thick fishnet covered thighs the whole way here. 

With a kiss to your cheek, Bucky had left you at the bar to check out the area. That had been twenty minutes ago and sadly, people were starting to notice you too. 

You felt eyes on you as you mindlessly scrolled through the meme group chat. Peter and Shuri were having an entertaining fight on who sent the best memes. You couldn’t handle the creepy feeling anymore. You were ready to show this creep the pretty switchblade Bucky got you for your birthday. Chin raised, your eyes met with green ones across the bar. You tried to give your best resting bitch face with dead eyes, but he only smirked and took that as his cue to swoop in. You slammed cash on the table for your blood red drink and slipped into the crowd before he could make two steps in your direction. You went down a hallway in the back which led you to your latest predicament. Where the fuck is your thick ass boyfriend? 

You have enough PHDs under your belt to know not to yell out Bucky’s name. Searching for his wide frame under the neon lights is the only option you have left as you pass the restrooms. You think finding a 6’2” man would be easy, but apparently, every alternative person wears 5 inch platforms. Not like you can really blame them. If they weren’t so expensive, you’d be Bucky’s height too right now. 

As you fill with envy for people that can fit into knee high platforms, an arm wraps around you and yanks you into a unisex bathroom. “It’s me.” Bucky’s deep voice assures before you can even start going through the defense attacks he taught you. You slip out of his hold and turn around to face him. Ignoring the fact Bucky has taken off his jacket and his muscles are now stressing the seams of his long sleeve shirt, you cross your arms. 

“Where have you been?”

Bucky blinks confused before finding his answer. “Bugging this two floor building. Why? What’s wrong?” You will tell him sooner or later. Might as well do it now. 

“Nothing. It’s just, uh, a skeevy man was staring at me far too long. We made eye contact and he tried coming over.” 

“Did he hurt you because I will-” Bucky’s already heading for the door before you squeeze his arm. 

“Bucky,” you laugh astounded that he’s so ready to fight for you. You didn’t even give him a description. Bucky lets you pull him back to the center of the room. “I slipped through the crowd before he could try anything. I’m fine.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise. I’m fine.” You stand on the tip of your toes to kiss Bucky’s cheek but he turns his head to kiss you instead. He kisses you deeply just long enough to leave you wanting more.

“You still have your knife right?” 

“Yes, you dork.” He visibly relaxes at the confirmation. You take a hold of his chin and turn his face towards you. “You do realize you have cut on your cheek right?” It’s not too bad. A medium cut surrounded by bruising. Super serum is probably at work already healing it, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. It’s not like you’re left with the best of first aid in the bathroom. You head to the sink to wet a paper towel with soap and water. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” You glare at Bucky through the mirror. “I don’t suggest going three doors down. A couple of guards are sleeping on the clock.” He walks over and cozies up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your shoulder. “Is that really necessary. I think there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” He rolls his hard on into your ass as he kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. 

“Really?” You pry as you wring out the paper towel.

“I have been hard since you walked out in the commons.” Your face gets warmer at his confession. “I mean-” Bucky groans as he looks down at your fishnet covered legs. 

“While we’re on the subject, the eyeliner is working for me.” You’ve piqued Bucky’s interest. He meets your eyes through the mirror again. “You should wear it more often. You look so much like-”

“If you say Chase from the Covenant, I’m leaving.” Life drains from his eyes as he speaks.

“Like a man who can get into my pants.” 

“Nice save.” 

“Anyways, I say fuck it. Let’s do it.” Bucky’s eyes light up with excitement. “But clean the blood off your face first.” Bucky takes the paper towel out of your hands, scrubs the line of dried blood off his cheek, and throws it in the trash can before you can blink. Bucky turns your face to meet his lips not even a second later. He kisses you even deeper than before slipping his tongue in your mouth. You lift your hand to thread through Bucky’s hair. At the feel of your hand in his hair, he breaks away. 

“No. No. Keep your hands on the sink. I think this could be fun.” He grabs both of your wrists and places your hands on the edge of the sink. He’s moving your hair off your neck before his lips connect with it. “So pretty, baby. Is this all for me?” He mumbles before placing a hickey on your neck. His hands squeeze your thighs before snaking up your torso and kneading your breasts through your top. Lost in the pleasure only Bucky can give, you assume his question is rhetorical. You learn it wasn’t as he stops his ministrations. “Is this mine?”

You scramble to find your words. “Yeah.” Your voice cracks. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He looks directly into your eyes through the stickered mirror as he unzips the front of your top. Bucky brings his gloved hand up to your mouth. “Bite,” He mumbles before planting multiple kisses on your neck. 

You bite down on his index finger and he pulls his hand away, leaving the glove in your mouth. He quickly takes the glove, stuffing it in his back pocket, before his right hand is kneading one of your bare breasts. You sigh at the feel of his calloused hand on your soft skin. You get a moment to enjoy the feeling until Bucky is lifting his other gloved hand toward your mouth. You get the memo without having to be told. You help tear off his glove for his metal hand and he’s stuffing it in his back pocket again. Instead of going for your other breast, two of Bucky’s metal fingers tap on your bottom lip. 

It is not like you to deny him. You take his fingers in his mouth and suck on them, giving them the same attention you’d give his dick. Bucky leaves the growing patch of hickies on your neck to growl at the sight. “Such a fucking tease.” His metal fingers press down on your tongue making you take his fingers deeper. He let’s up when he knows you are about to choke. “Can’t wait to get inside you, but first I want to see you cum on my fingers. Would you like that, honey?” His right hand leaves your chest and plays with the hem of your short skirt. 

With his fingers still in your mouth,  you nod, widen your stance, and back your ass up into his crotch. He chuckles lowly right next to your ear before his right hand is yanking up your skirt. Your skin tight skirt barely budges with one hand. 

“You gotta be kidding me?” Bucky takes his metal hand out of your mouth and uses it to yank up your skirt. You pray to whoever’s listening that your horny boyfriend doesn’t rip your bottoms off. It’d make getting out of the club a lot more messier. “This skirt is annoying me. You’ll just have to be naked for a week to make it up to me.” Thankfully, your skirt moves up your body to bunch at your waist. You don’t have time for a witty retort or to even think about how you were airborne for a second before Bucky is digging his metal fingers into your sex. At the feel of fishnet over wet folds, he pauses. “Wait, are you-”

“Not wearing panties? Yep.” 

He lets out the longest groan to date. “You’re gonna kill me.” Bucky tears open a hole in your stockings at the apex of your thighs before massaging and digging into your sex with vengence. “That’s what you’re gonna do. Forget all the highrisks missions. The stupid fucking guards. I’m gonna die because my girlfriend can’t wear a fucking decent pair of underwear.” Bucky groans and he’s… he’s being unfair as two of his thick metal fingers slip into you. He knows how much you love it when he uses his metal hand. Bucky is using it against you to sear his touch into your brain. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as he reaches sensitive depths inside you. His right hand goes back to kneading your chest.

“Wearing panties makes it harder f-for… for you to fuck me. Need to be prepared for your horny ass 24/7.” You pant in between words. Bucky raises an unimpressed eyebrow. The speed of his pumping fingers quicken to the point where the both of you can hear how wet you are over the distant music. “W-when are you not… horny?”

“I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer when I have this wet pussy to play with. ‘Sides, I’m not the one who sounds horny right now. “ Bucky’s metal thumb rubs your clit. “I’m not the one desperate enough for my boyfriend’s cock that I'll spread my legs in a public bathroom. Honestly, you just went with it? No second thoughts?” You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure to even bother a response. Bucky clicks his tongue. “That’s not good girl behavior. More like slutty behavior.” Bucky’s eyes light up with an idea. “Be a good slut and cum for me.”

“Bucky,” you gasp pleadingly. 

“C’mon, you heard me. Cum for me. It’s the least you can do.” He’s sucking on a pulse point on your neck when you go rigid underneath him. You cry out as you reach your euphoric high. 

“God damnit, you’re so gorgeous when you cum.” Bucky makes you feel the full effect of your orgasm as he continues to pump his fingers and rub your clit. You have to practically tear his metal arm off you to get peace. Both of his hands leave you and you can hear the tell tale sound of his pants being undone. 

You get a small amount of reprieve before Bucky is rubbing his dick through your drenched folds. His thick cock stimulating your sensitive nerves. Bucky’s steel toed boot nudges your stance wider and he’s dipping into your entrance just enough for you to start to feel the intoxicating stretch of him. You’re arching your back at the burn when he pulls out suddenly. You sputter as you try to find your words. 

“I don’t think you really want my cock.” He goes back to spreading your folds over his cock. The tip runs across your sensitive, overworked clit every once in a while.

“I’m literally on display for your fucking dick right now.” 

“Then say it.” Bucky nuzzles your neck and blows cool air on the patch of hickies. 

“Bucky, please fuck me. I’ve been wet since you mentioned you had to wear a leather jacket. Let me have it.” 

Bucky snorts at that. “My sweet slut. Always so ready and willing for my cock.” 

“Only a s-slut-” Bucky slides into you slowly making you feel every massive inch of him  “- f-for you.” You whimper at the feel of him as your back arches. You're trapped in between Bucky and the sink. No choice but to feel all of him. 

Bucky rumbles right against your back. “My own little whore. I like the sound of that.” He tests the waters by thrusting shallow. You’re convulsing around his cock. It always takes a few to get used to the initial stretch. He groans. “Always so fucking tight. My own personal heaven.” He hasn’t been able to stop his little thrusts, addicted to the feel of you. 

“B-Bucky,” you gasp strained. “P-please, move. Do something.” 

“Look at you so desperate for my cock. I love it. Such a good whore.” He pulls out and you could cry until he’s thrusting back in, knocking the wind out of you. You gasp, collecting enough air for him to knock it out of you again. Again. And again. It’s not before long, Bucky is setting a brutal pace and all you can do is take it. You are going lax as the pleasure makes your extremities tingly. Bucky is pretty much the only thing holding you up as he brings three of his right fingers towards your mouth. He doesn’t even have to tap on your lips. You open your mouth for him to slip his fingers inside and suck on them. Bucky’s eyes zero in on your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers. 

“What a good slut. Such a good girl. I love you so much.” His metal hand gently wraps around the base of your neck. His index finger and thumb stroke the skin right underneath your choker causing goosebumps to break out. “This looks so pretty on you, baby.” He kisses the spot your jawline and neck connect before continuing. “I think we both know how much better my hand is wrapped around your neck though.” He gives a light squeeze, slightly cutting off your blood flow, and grins at you. A broken moan leaves you as drool pools around his fingers starting to drip down his hand and your chin. “So fucking stunning. Should have got out my phone before we started.”

A light, airy feeling starts to creep into your head, kind of like your floating. Bucky’s pace never lets up and you’re close. So, so close.  A few more thrusts and Bucky is reaching new depths. You’re knuckles strain as you grip the sink hard. 

“Shit.” He grunts. His fingers press down on your tongue not give a fuck if you gag. Your eyes widen as his warmth floods you. Bucky’s pace slows and he’s pumping his hips shallowly while he cums.

 As much as you love the bare feel of him, you’re pissed. You were so close to an orgasm and he stopped. It was without clittoral stimulation too. It was gonna be groundbreaking. You actually gag on the pressure of his fingers down your throat and smack his wet wrist. He quickly takes his fingers out of your mouth and apologizes. You can’t believe you're stomping your foot while still on your boyfriend’s dick, but there’s a first for everything. You’re actually pouting as you cross your arms over your bare chest and jut out your lower lip. 

“Bucky!” You wait for him to take his eyes off your ass and meet yours through the mirror. 

He smacks your ass, squeezes it, and hums, mildly distracted. “Yeah?” He glances up and does a double take. “You’re pissed?”

“Uh yeah. Do you know how close I was before you ruined it? I-” Bucky takes his hand off your throat and uses both to dig his thumbs in the dip of your back as he shushes you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.” You’re frustrated and slightly on edge when Bucky slowly pulls out. “Don’t get more upset, but that was literally the hottest thing we’ve done. You have never looked hotter.” 

“Why would I get upset when I feel the same.” You begrudgingly agree. 

“Oh my god, you’re gonna hold not letting you come against me. You’re such a baby.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Bucky turns you around and lifts you on to the edge of the sink before you can start. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at that manhandling and you ignore it. While you avoid his eyes and glare at the wall over his shoulder, he wipes some of the drool off your chin. You melt on the inside and try not to show it. If you look in his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. If you look into his eyes, you’re going to forgive him. “This is ridiculous. When have I ever left you hanging? Don’t you think maybe I had a plan?” Your eyes slowly slide over to his. His eyes, still darkened by lust, bore into you. “I don’t want to see you cum on my cock through the mirror. I want you to face me, eyes rolled back, mouth gaping as I repeatedly reach all the sensitive spots inside you.” 

“You’re the one that’s the fucking tease.” You smack his broad chest. He takes your hand and kisses each knuckle. His hand then goes to knead your thighs dangling off the edge. 

“So, what do you say? Second round?” 

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I’m sexually frustrated and still slightly mad. Fuck me before someone comes in.” He wedges himself between your thick thighs. Bucky leans down to kiss you and you thread your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, happy to get to touch him.  He eventually stops kneading your thighs, just feeling the texture of the mesh stretched across your skin. 

Bucky groans as you nip at his lips when he pulls away. His head drops down and shakes it in disbelief.  “You need to wear these more often.” He looks very serious at you and you would snicker if you weren’t about to fuck. You do smirk at him though and swirl his hair between your fingers. 

“You gonna fuck me in public more often if I do?” You wipe some of your burgundy lipstick off the edge of his bottom lip as you ask. 

Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. “I-is that what you want?” He’s grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to the edge. You can feel his hardening cock against your hip. You’re so close to Bucky, you lean in just a few inches to press your chest against his and whisper sultry in his ear.

“I am constantly ready for your cock. Twenty four seven. Name a place and I’ll spread my legs. So fucking big. Feels so damn good.” You kiss right underneath his ear and then move a few inches down to suck hickey on a soft spot of his neck. With super soldier recovery rate, it won’t last long, but it sure does rile him up. He moans and it echoes off the linoleum poster covered walls. You love the vibrations underneath your lips as he tilts his head to the other side. You know his eyes are fluttering as you can’t help but to give him a few others hickies next to it. 

You lean back to admire your handiwork. Purple blotches litter his neck in between smudges of burgundy lipstick. You’re pretty sure you’ve wiped off all your lipstick on Bucky. His blown out pupils watch you like a hawk, hands digging into your ass. He’s rubbing his hard on into the crease of your stomach and thighs and he doesn’t even know it. “C’mon, I want to feel the ache of you tomorrow. Fuck me like the whore that I am.” You feel a chill run down his spine before he finally takes action. 

He rolls up his sleeves and of course, because your chest is now facing him, he needs to leave a few hickies on them. As he guides his dick to your entrance, you wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky momentarily ceases the hickies to watch your puffy folds easily accept his wide cock. Both of you are groaning at the feeling. 

“Your pussy’s so wet for me. Fuck.” Bucky’s too turned for a filter. You keep your edging comment to yourself and kiss his sweaty temple. The edging thoughts stewing inside are knocked out of you as Bucky fingers trace the place you two are joined. He uses the excess of your combined wetness to rub your clit. Pleasure makes your toes curl. 

“Not what I meant when I said fuck me, Bastard.” You can’t get Bucky to move his hips without falling on your ass. He seems perfectly fine to have you warm his hard dick as he kisses and leaves hickies along your collar bones. Your free hand grabs his bicep and you’re close to coming already. 

“Yeah. Your bastard.” You can feel him grin against your skin. You’d comment if you weren’t about to cum. 

“C-close. Please don’t stop.” You gasp out, begging as the rise of your orgasm hits. You’re squeezing Bucky while in your peak. He almost groans as loud as you’re moaning.

“You’re so gorgeous. Love when you convulse around my cock, honey.” He kisses your cheek momentarily before going back down to your chest. He starts pumping his cock in and out of you. This time literally knocking the wind out of you. You’re oversensitive from your orgasm and he never truly let you come down from it. Bucky is certainly making his promise. You’ll feel him in your guts for the next few days. Your hands run through his hair and pull on the ends. His mouth finally detaches from your chest as he moves with your hand. He lets out a full blown out moan that makes your heart pound. Bucky always lets out the filthiest moans when you pull his hair. You fucking love it. His metal hand leaves your ass. He grabs a hold of the edge of the sink as he pace picks up. 

As much as you love filling all your wet dreams with the hottest audio ever, you don’t have the strength to keep your arm up for long. Your hand drops to his back. His muscles ripple underneath your fingertips as you dig your nails into his back. Both of you panting into each other's ear. Your legs shake at the approaching orgasm. 

“I know you’re close. Be a good whore. Cum on my cock. I’ll wait for you.” He rubs your clit even faster. 

“FUCK.” You’ve never been happier for loud music blasting through the club’s speakers. An intense orgasm takes over you. White dots fill your vision as tears collect at your waterline. With how hard your gripping his cock, Bucky isn’t far behind. He can only get in a few more thrusts before he’s cumming again. He bites into your shoulder and groans. Shivers wreck down your spine as his warmth fills you for the second time tonight. Bucky lets the sink carry his weight as he grips it hard. 

There’s a groaning protest before a chunk of the sink falls off. You’re there to block him from falling. He pulls out and moves you closer to the other edge, away from the crime scene. You look over your shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t break off any of the major plumbing parts. Water spraying everywhere would make looking yourself presentable a lot more harder, but maybe that could have been your excuse. Oh well. 

You turn back to Bucky. He’s still holding on to the broken piece of sink. Both of you break out into giggles as he throws it in the trash. 

“I can’t believe you did that.” You’re grinning ear to ear as he tucks himself back into his boxers. 

“I can.” Bucky shrugs. “I don’t think you get how tight you get when you cum. Me breaking things during sex is not new.” 

“My back. Our nice bed frame. The ottoman in the commons… Can’t forget the multiple tables. Shout out to Tony’s dented Acura hood.” You pull Bucky’s shirt to get him closer to you. You kiss him before he speaks. “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

“If you fuck me again, there won’t be a sink left.” 

He hums and rubs your thighs. He’s definitely addicted to the feel of the fishnets stockings. Good luck trying to get his hands off you for the rest of the day. “You have a point.” He drops to his knees. 

“What are you doing?” He’s spreading your thighs wide in front of his face.

“I can’t let my cum drip down your legs out there. That would be irresponsible of me.” That's all the explanation you get before he’s burying his face in between your legs, stubble scratching your inner thighs. You gasp as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Fuck what he said. You’re the one that’s gonna die. Bucky is truly your horny bastard. 

[satorinnie]

03. a very chaotic first day

you were in an internal crisis. this was definitely not how you planned your first day to go. if the first lesson you missed was a normal one that would at least be more acceptable. but an honors class which was government and politics? that was a no no.

you were sprinting so fast, you were worried for a second that you missed the school; which, thank the gods, you didn’t.

you were thankful you texted ayaka, since she was the one who woke you out of your dream of school starting this late. for a top student you could be very stupid sometimes.

reaching the school gates, you slowed down a little, but still speed-walking because it was now break time and you had missed the lesson fully. you were now on your way to the class ready with a full blown apology to the teacher hoping she would understand whatever excuse you had up your sleeve.

with a map in your hand that came with the schedule you took yesterday, you tried to find your way not realizing you bumped into someone until they screamed behind you, “fuck— watch where you’re going!”

not turning back you lifted an arm waving it as a sign of apology, “sorry!!”

suna was left standing in the middle of the hallway, half of his water splashed on his blazer. he wasn’t in a good mood already, and now his mood was even worse.

first day of school and your top is already wet.

he couldn’t get a good look at the one at fault since she practically ignored his presence moving on with whatever she was engrossed with.

since he was worried for ayaka last night, he didn’t exactly get the most relaxing sleep. though his teammates kept pestering him about how he was in love with the girl since he was always looking after her, suna always declined them. he has been childhood friends with ayaka for a very long time, their mothers were close as well...before ayaka’s mother passed away that is. and he felt the need to protect her; as a sister to him.

he didn’t get to see her before school started because he had woken up late, but now he was on his way to her, ready to question about the person she had stayed at last night. but the second he took a step forward, his eyes caught the phone laying on the ground. guessing it belonged to the girl that bumped him, he slid it into his pocket to give if he came across her again.

reaching his friends in their usual spot he pulled ayaka to his side by her shoulder and rested his back against the wall. “so princess, ready to explain last night? you had us really worried.”

“suna! ah i will but i need y/n here with me!”

suna turned to look at the twins in front of him, “who’s y/n?”

atsumu shrugged, “i don’t know man, but it think that’s the chick ayaka stayed over at”

“yeah she is! and i want her here so we can explain together.” she pushed suna’s arm off her shoulder to reach for her phone, and three seconds later suna’s pocket started to vibrate. raising a single brow, he reached for the phone to see ayaka’s name flashing on it.

“suna...why do you have y/n’s phone with you?” ayaka looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“oh.”

NIGHT CHANGES

three; a very chaotic first day

masterlist | prev | next

zey’s notes

- lmao finally posted this chapter,,,suna’s pov wasn’t best ik ik, but it was like a trial run since part 2 of a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be will have his pov in it

- anyways i would really appreciate your opinions on this series so far!! it would mean a lot :))

taglist; open (send an ask to be added)

(bold names cannot be tagged)

@bakugouswh0r3 @kac-chowsballs @lilith412426 @alpaca-fanfics @itoshibaby @borpcorp @sunahyejin @succulentmom @mysticstrawberryballoon @achoomoos @deimmortales99 @sunarintarouscrustysock @rintarovibes @crapimahuman @namyari @giveonslove @atsumiye @daphnxy @life-is-sad-lol @erens-piss-cleaner @mydandydays @anime-meme-sanctuary @joyaphoria @whorefornoodles @anngelllla @loeyslildimple @camcam1617 @shittykawa05 @iamaicul @sumebreaks @tetsuhoes @xxlightsaberxx @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @kroerms @toshikamo @primsonnn @navymacaroons @ntimacy @yamayoomi @tanakasimpcorner @kawaii-angelanne @kachuuha @phieaa @aisawa-reo @maybektzukisbabey @kodzuken-blog @moonlightaangel @tycrackculture @blueowl51 @bruhmoment23

[belettewrites]

Listen to the melody

In which Jaskier finds a puppy, immediately adopts him, and Geralt becomes the “dad didn’t want a dog//dad and the dog” meme. Oh, and some self-esteem issues from a certain white-haired witcher that lead to some hurt until they finally talk to each other. 

cw: the dog gets hurt but I promise he’s fine.

Around 8k words, link to AO3 here!

And a big thank you to @potatofu-art for giving the dog his name! Go check their blog, you won’t regret it (no seriously, do it, trust me)

Geralt and Jaskier had met again when the cold breeze had been replaced by a warmer one, when trees were starting to wear bright green leaves again and fields were blooming with small and fragile flowers.

A few months had past, spring leaving in favor of a warm summer, and they had not parted ways yet. It was something that they usually did, because sometimes Jaskier needed to go to a bardic competition that took place where Geralt would never be able to find a contract, or because Jaskier was requested to play somewhere Geralt would never be able to follow. It wasn’t really parting ways, actually it was more Jaskier leaving, but Geralt told himself that it was something he was fine with. The bard did find him again after, or Geralt did, and they would start traveling together again, Jaskier sharing gossips that Geralt pretended to care about.

He was… fond of Jaskier, and that was why when the bard stopped following the path that would lead straight to the village they had planned to spend the night in, Geralt stopped to wait for him.

The sun hadn’t set yet and wouldn’t for at least an hour, but cicadas were already singing around them, the luminosity dim even though night hadn’t fallen yet. They were just at the edge of the town, and so they had time.

Geralt turned around to see what Jaskier was doing; surely the bard had found a flower that he deemed worth picking, and- 

Jaskier wasn’t on the road anymore. He had jumped in the ditch by the side of the road, and was currently cooing at something. Now that Geralt thought of it, he could hear two heartbeats in that ditch.

“Jaskier?”

He didn’t draw his sword – there was no need – but readied himself for whatever he would find. He walked closer to the ditch, trusting Roach not to run away; the mare snorted but didn’t move.

“I’m fine, don’t worry, it’s just – can you hold him for me while I get out of here?”

Geralt looked down. The ditch was quite deep, Jaskier would no doubt stain his doublet to get out of it, as he had his boots when he had jumped in it: a layer of mud covered the bottom of the ditch. But that was not the part that interested Geralt at the moment; not, what made him pause was what Jaskier was currently cradling to his chest – a puppy.

It was not a small one; his legs, covered in mud as the rest of his fur, showed that he would grow into a big dog, the kind that kept herds of sheep in the mountains – not the kind that was left alone in a ditch by the side of the road.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, his tone impatient, and Geralt reached out without thinking about it, taking the puppy in his hands.

It squirmed a little but let itself be carried. Geralt put it on the ground next to him, and helped Jaskier to get out of the ditch.

“Thank you, dear,” Jaskier smiled, before his attention returned to the dog. He squatted down to take it in his arms. “The poor thing wasn’t even making a noise,” he said, his smile turning sad, “and he’s shaking. He must have been in here for hours – why would anyone do that?”

Geralt looked at the puppy. His long brown and black fur was in a poor state, hairs matted together by the mud.

“He’s missing a leg,” he stated, and Jaskier frowned.

“And?”

“And people don’t want dogs with only three legs,” Geralt shrugged. It was stupid, but humans often were.

Jaskier’s eyes somehow got even sadder, and Geralt felt helpless. He didn’t want Jaskier to be sad, but there wasn’t anything that he could do to make humans stop being prejudiced against things that weren’t how they expected them to be.

Then determination shone in Jaskier’s eyes and Geralt suddenly felt afraid of what he would say next.

“We’re keeping Butterscotch.”

“We are not keeping him- you gave him a name?”

Jaskier scratched the dog behind his ears, and the puppy closed his eyes.

“Well it’s not as if anyone was going to,” the bard replied, and Geralt suddenly felt extremely tired. “Besides, I found him. I get to name him.”

“We can’t keep him,” Geralt said again, because it was something that Jaskier needed to understand.

“But he’s helpless,” Jaskier almost pouted, “and you said it yourself: people won’t want him. I am not going to leave him here all alone, ready to be eaten by wolves.”

There weren’t any wolves in the area, but Geralt decided against saying it. And of course they wouldn’t abandon him like that.

“His previous humans didn’t want him,” he said instead, “we can find him another family.”

The puppy yawned, which was the most noise he had made since they had found him, and tried to lick Jaskier’s chin. The bard smiled at him, a fond thing, and Geralt suddenly couldn’t tell Jaskier that a young dog wouldn’t survive on the path for long and that they couldn’t exactly afford to feed a puppy on top of their needs.

“No,” Jaskier said, still holding the puppy in his arms. Fuck, but he was cute. The dog – Butterscotch – tried to lick him again, and Jaskier laughed.

Fuck.

They were now doing what he had no choice but to call puppy eyes at him.

This was a bad idea. There were so many reasons why this was a bad idea – a dog would need care and attention, and Jaskier’s life was chaotic enough as it was. And of course, dogs didn’t exactly like Geralt. Neither did other pets; cats avoided him like the plague. He didn’t want an animal to be near him all the time – that would cause it distress, and Geralt knew that Jaskier would choose to leave sooner than he usually did.

But one important thing that Geralt couldn’t push aside was that what he wanted most was Jaskier to be happy, be it by his side or on his own.

“He can stay,” he finally conceded, trying not to let it show that at this point there was nothing he would be able to refuse Jaskier. “For now,” he warned pointlessly, acutely aware that the dog would be with him on the path until Jaskier decided that he had had enough of following a witcher around.

He turned away, warmed up by the smile that was currently lighting up Jaskier’s face. He tried to hold onto that happiness when the thought that Jaskier would leave inevitably came. They started walking again, Geralt leading, Jaskier right next to him.

“We’re going to have so many adventures together,” the bard said to the dog that he was still holding in his arms, “and we’ll have a fantastic time. But for now, Butterscotch, let’s go back to the inn and get you a bath. I’m sorry to tell you, you poor thing, but you absolutely need it.”

***

Traveling with a dog wasn’t that much different. Butterscotch was a silent one, never barking at birds or other dogs, which was a relief; the last thing Geralt needed was a small animal broadcasting their location to every single monster around. Even if Butterscotch wasn’t exactly small anymore.

They had found another town and had decided to stay there; Jaskier had performed at the tavern, earning a fair amount of coin, and they had retired for the night when his set had been over.

Geralt was already under the covers, watching with half-opened eyes as Jaskier was getting ready to go to bed. His boots were already by the bed, his doublet folded nicely on the table. 

Butterscotch put his front leg on the bed, near Geralt’s face, and currently sniffed him. His whiskers were tickling Geralt’s nose, and he glared at the dog, who – tried to lick Geralt’s face. The witcher resisted the urge of hiding himself behind the cover.

"He's not sleeping on the bed,” he warned.

“Of course he is sleeping on the bed, we'll need the extra heat. And he's adorable, Geralt, how can you say no?”

The so-called adorable dog was currently making puppy eyes at Geralt, as if he had understood what was going on and was trying to convince him too.

“Because he'll get fur everywhere, and my pants and armor are already covered in them.”

Because that sounded petulant, he added.

“The inn will charge us double.”

Jaskier sighed, but Geralt knew he had to win this one. If he didn’t, then the dog would just take a bad habit, and they would end up regretting it when he would be fully grown. The puppy was already bigger than when Jaskier had got him and it seemed that he was not going to stop. He looked like a shepherd dog, and Geralt wondered how the fuck he had ended up in the small town in which they had found him.

In which Jaskier had found him. Butterscotch was Jaskier’s dog, not theirs.

“But he’ll get cold, and lonely, and he’ll think I don’t love him-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted his friend before it turned into a proper lamentation and it was too late, “the d- Butterscotch loves you already, he follows you everywhere. He won’t mind sleeping on the ground, especially since dogs like him are used to sleeping outside.”

“You’re- you’re right. And we’re right here, it’s not as if he’ll miss us!”

It’s not as if he’ll miss you, Geralt thought. I don’t think he cares much about me.

It was already a miracle that the dog could stand being near him. They usually ran the other way, but this one was surely soothed by Jaskier’s calming presence, always here to talk to him or pet him, or even carry him – Geralt had told Jaskier that he would regret it when the dog would be older, but the other man had ignored him.

“Hear that, Butterscotch? No sleeping on the bed for you. But you’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

He heard Jaskier whispering to the dog for a few minutes, and let himself smile, knowing that the other man would never see it. It was nice to see Jaskier so happy; Geralt had given him some coins so he would be able to buy a brush for the puppy, and the way Jaskier had smiled still haunted him.

He heard more than he saw Jaskier slipping under the cover, yawning.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he whispered, and Geralt hummed his reply.

He discovered in the morning that Butterscotch had slept on his bag, successfully shedding fur everywhere. Jaskier had gone downstairs to get them breakfast, so he allowed himself to say to the dog:

“You’re a menace, little one.”

Butterscotch wagged its tail and nudged Geralt’s hand. Well. You couldn’t win them all.

***

The wind was howling outside, the sky was getting darker, and people were hurrying to get inside before the night fully settled. However, Geralt and Jaskier were too busy arguing to notice that.

“I’m telling you, Jaskier, you have to stay here for this one. It’s too dangerous.”

They had been arguing – calmly discussing – for a good ten minutes about Geralt’s next hunt; the witcher didn’t want Jaskier to come with him because it was too dangerous, while the bard absolutely wanted to come because it would “make a great song”. Geralt tended to disagree – he couldn’t exactly see the appeal of songs describing him fighting against monsters.

Plus, the fight would take place in a forest, at night, so it wasn’t very likely that Jaskier would be able to see anything, and extremely likely that Geralt would have to end up running for his bard’s life, because the other man was too busy taking notes to notice his surroundings. Though the night would prevent him from taking any notes, as would the rain that the dark clouds were announcing. There really was no point for Jaskier to come with him.

“Well what I am telling you is that-”

Butterscotch whined, effectively interrupting Jaskier in whatever he was going to reply.

They both looked down at the dog who was laying at their feet, his ears back on his head. Jaskier squatted down to take him in his arms.

“You’re going to regret that when he’ll be older,” Geralt warned, as he did every time Jaskier went to hold the puppy. Jaskier was strong, but not strong enough to hold the eighty pounds that the puppy would one day weigh. Somehow, Geralt knew that he was going to have to hold the dog when he would want to, and the thought itself was enough to tire him.

“We’ll see,” Jaskier replied like he did every time. “He doesn’t like when we’re fighting,” he added, showing the puppy to Geralt, who barely resisted the urge to pet him. Butterscotch’s ears had perked up now that Jaskier was holding him, and he and the bard made quite an adorable sight, not that Geralt was ever going to say that out loud.

It didn’t seem like Jaskier was going to change his mind soon, if the way he was frowning was a good indication of it. If the wind, the rain threatening to fall, and his possible demise weren’t enough to deter Jaskier from following him, it was time to change tactics. Jaskier might be the bard between the two of them but Geralt too knew how to wield words, though he didn’t choose to do it often.

“We can’t let him here,” he said, shoulders open as a proof of sincerity. Because he did mean it.

“I’m sorry?”

“Butterscotch. You can’t leave him here all alone. He’s still… young, it’s too dangerous.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Geralt, who felt like he needed to go on if he wanted Jaskier to actually yield.

“He might get injured, I won’t be able to defend the both of you.”

And between you and him, I would choose you. Even if you’d hate me for not saving your dog.

Jaskier’s face seemed to fall, but he nodded, reaffirming his hold on the dog.

“You’re- yes, it would be safer for him.”

“For you,” Geralt insisted, because it was something that he needed to say. Butterscotch was a means to an end here, a way for him to make Jaskier stay in their room instead of running to his doom. And if it meant protecting the puppy, well. It was as they said, with the birds and the stone.

Geralt clumsily patted Jaskier on the shoulder before turning around to check if he had all he needed. It was easier than to see how his friend was looking now, his eyes too sad for Geralt’s liking. But it was something that he would do again – Jaskier’s safety was more important to him than what the bard actually thought about him.

He glanced at his things, quickly scanning what was in his bag: potions, a shirt that Jaskier had insisted had to be there, the stick that Butterscotch had given to him – wait.

He took the stick out of his bag, deciding against throwing it away, not because it was something that Butterscotch had given to him, but because… because. He could feel his swords against his back, their light weight a reassurance that everything was going to be okay – that even if he didn’t make it for a reason or another, Jaskier and Butterscotch would be safe here.

“I’ll go now,” he said to Jaskier, who had put the puppy back on the ground and was currently taking his lute out of its case. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Be careful, dear,” Jaskier replied, barely taking his eyes away from his lute.

Butterscotch tried to follow Geralt as he walked towards the door, and the witcher had to quickly close it to prevent the dog from escaping. He heard a whine coming from inside the room and Jaskier’s soothing voice who tried to calm him.

Shaking his head, Geralt walked downstairs, ignoring the way hearing how sad the puppy was made his heart clench.

Jaskier was reading when Geralt came back, thankfully uninjured, though damp because of the rain that had finally started to fall. The bard was already under the covers, his lute safe in its case, papers safely tucked away in his bag. A single candle was lighting the room, and Geralt was left once again to wonder about Jaskier’s powers. Could he see in the dark? Maybe that was why he had wanted to come with him despite the night.

“You’re back,” Jaskier smiled at him, not closing his book. “Do you need help with anything?”

“No,” Geralt grunted, putting his bag and swords down. He had already cleaned them, knowing that Jaskier would already be in bed and not wanting to disturb him.

He started to unbuckle his armor, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw what was currently sleeping on his side of the bed.

“Is Butterscotch-”

“Sleeping on the bed? Yes, I think he is. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Geralt sighed.

“I thought we had agreed not to let him sleep on the bed.”

“I know it’s going to teach him terrible habits, but you were away and he was looking so sad-”

“It’s unsanitary,” Geralt said, finally getting out of his armor. Quickly changing into a new shirt – one that wasn’t full of fur –, he woke the dog up by petting his head. “Hey,” he murmured, trying not to think too much about why he was so gentle with him, “get off the bed.”

Butterscotch slowly stood up, stretching and yawning, but finally jumped off the bed in one smooth motion. He immediately went near Geralt’s bag, curled up into a ball, and promptly fell back asleep.

“Hmm.”

“See? He listens, he’s well-educated,” Jaskier said, closing his book and putting it away.

“He was afraid of what I might do to him,” Geralt retorted while getting under the cover. “I don’t think that counts as listening.”

Jaskier blinked a few times, his face growing serious.

“Butterscotch isn’t afraid of you, Geralt.”

“He obeys me because he sees me as a predator. He’s afraid.”

“Is that- Geralt, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Didn’t you hear him when you left? He was sad because you were leaving without him.”

“You’re disillusioned, bard,” Geralt snarled before blowing out the candle. To think that a dog – that anyone, really – would miss him when he was gone was beyond stupid.

Jaskier stayed silent, the only sound in the room the deep breaths of the dog.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he finally said, his voice small.

Geralt didn’t reply, too busy hating himself to notice how Jaskier’s breaths became more irregular, how the air suddenly smelled like salt instead of them.

Butterscotch kept on sleeping, undisturbed.

***

Geralt hadn’t known how to apologize about that incident so he didn’t, and they kept on moving across the continent for a few weeks, Butterscotch still proudly walking beside them, following Jaskier or staying near Roach who, the traitor, seemed to like the dog just find, never minding when he walked near her.

Jaskier hadn’t mentioned the incident either, so Geralt simply thought that it had been forgotten. He hadn’t made any other remarks after that, and Jaskier hadn’t tried to pretend that the dog loved them both equally when they both knew it was a lie.

It didn’t stop Geralt from thinking back about that night and the day that had followed, how Jaskier had talked but not really talked, how it had seemed more like a defense mechanism than a true desire to share every thought that came across his mind.

Butterscotch hadn’t been allowed to sleep on the bed again after that night though he kept on trying, and Geralt was left to wonder how exactly the presence of a dog had changed their dynamics so much. Or maybe, he thought as he watched Jaskier braiding a flower into Roach’s mane, maybe it didn’t change them as much as it revealed that they had already changed. Jaskier was getting older, and though it didn’t show, Geralt knew that the time for him to finally settle down somewhere would come.

He had mentioned the coast, once, how he would have liked to go there when he would be older, and Geralt knew that it was only a matter of time before Jaskier would leave him, taking Butterscotch and all the happiness in Geralt’s life with him.

But it was not something Geralt had control over; still, he couldn’t help but think about it, about when Jaskier would eventually leave, when he would be all alone on the path once again. He had forgotten how it was to truly be alone. Even when he and Jaskier got separated during the year, he knew they would find each other again. But to know that Jaskier wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore would change the colors of the path from bright and lively to dull.

It was difficult not to think about it right now. They were sleeping outside, in the woods, because the weather was nice and they were too far away from any villages anyway. They had set camp early and the night had just fallen on them. Jaskier and Butterscotch had left for a walk, as they always did on evenings, and Geralt had stayed behind, as he always – no. That was not true. He should stop thinking like that.

He added another log to the fire, and sighed. He could hear them still, Jaskier walking on twigs and Butterscotch running around, but he felt… lonely. Which was ridiculous. He never used to feel like that before.

They were coming back, just in time to eat the rabbits that Geralt had been cooking. He had made sure to add spices to Jaskier’s part.

Butterscotch ran straight to him, his lack of a front leg not deterring him. He stopped right by him, and Geralt petted his head. The dog had surely smelled the rabbits, which would explain why he was letting Geralt pet him. Or maybe – but no. Dogs didn’t like him.

“He whines when you’re not here, you know,” Jaskier said as he sat down next to Geralt. “Which was cute when he was small, but now – I swear, he’s always silent when you’re near but when you’re gone? Gods, the only way to soothe him is to give him one of your shirts.”

That would explain why he kept on having dog hair on his stuff even when they had been safely packed away in his bag.

"Hmm," he replied, trying to ignore the way the dog wagged his tail as he pet him. It meant nothing.

He stopped petting Butterscotch to take the rabbits out of the fire, and the dog nudged his arm.

“He didn’t like how you stopped petting him,” Jaskier remarked, an amused smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, but resumed his previous task. Butterscotch sat down and put his head on Geralt’s tight, who tried his best to refrain the wave of affection that overtook him. Maybe – maybe the dog trusted him, after all. Maybe Jaskier had been right, the other night, when –

He quickly glanced at his friend, who looked the other way when their eyes met. Great.

Geralt hated it, hated the way they were right now – but he couldn’t say anything. It was too late. He should have apologized right after his outburst. But Jaskier had acted as if everything was fine the next morning and it had been too easy to follow his lead, to not think about what he had said, how it might have hurt him.

“We should eat,” he said, if only to break the silence. “And maybe – you must have a song or two, for after,” he added hesitantly.

Jaskier’s face cleared up, a sparkle of mischief lighting up in his eyes. It made Geralt want to smile.

Instead, what he did was take his share of the food and eat it slowly, giving as discreetly as possible pieces of it to the dog that hadn’t left his side. If Jaskier saw him, he didn’t say anything; he was talking about the latest gossip in a court whose name Geralt had forgotten.

Listening to his laugh as he recounted the misfortune of some nobles made it a bit easier to forget that this, that them being together and sharing a meal, was not something that was meant to last. Jaskier played soft tunes that Butterscotch fell asleep to, laying down at Geralt’s side, and Geralt closed his eyes. He never wanted the moment to end.

***

The day had been nice; the weather had been kind to them, the sun warming the streets of the town they had decided to stay in because Geralt had taken a contract there and because the inn looked “just perfect for me to perform in, Geralt”. So they had rented a room, Jaskier had given the innkeeper his word that the big fluffy dog that was with them wouldn’t hurt anyone and would keep silent, and they had spent the rest of the day preparing for their respective evening activities.

The fight wasn’t one Geralt was worried about, and it went without much problems. Jaskier and Butterscotch had stayed behind, as they did most of the time now, and Geralt had tried not to think about it too much. Because that was what he had wanted, right? But he couldn’t help but feel as if it were a sign of Jaskier’s soon departure, a proof that Jaskier wasn’t interested in staying with him anymore. It scared him, and the fact that it scared him scared him even more.

He managed to refrain from sighing wearily as he opened the door. He was ready to eat whatever was left of supper and to go to bed, because hopefully his dreams wouldn’t be plagued by thoughts of Jaskier and Butterscotch leaving him.

“Geralt!”

His name, said with so much angst and worry, made Geralt almost drop everything he had been carrying – namely, his swords and his bag of potions. Eyes wide open, suddenly perfectly awake, he all but ran to Jaskier, worried out of his mind. The last time he had seen him, Jaskier had been working at the table of the room, happily humming, the dog laying at his feet, playing with one of Geralt's shirts.

Now Jaskier was standing beside the door, eyes full of tears, while Butterscotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Jaskier, breathe,” he said, as gently as he could manage. “What's going on?”

Jaskier grasped Geralt's arm, his grip almost painful.

“I- it's Butterscotch. He's- he's not doing well, I brought him to the town's apothecary and they said to come back with payment, but I don't think I have enough coins and I don't even know if he'll be okay and-”

Geralt put his bag down and gathered his friend into his arms – to ground him.

“-and I don't usually panic but you were late and- oh, Geralt, what if something happens to him?”

That was exactly why Geralt hadn't wanted the dog to stay with them. Not because he was a liability and another way to waste coin – but because this exact situation could happen. Because loving a being as fragile as Butterscotch was the best way to end up hurt. He tried not to think about Roach, and the Roach that had been there before.

That also was why he had tried his best not to attach himself to Jaskier. Because the bard would die one day, and it was easier not to have friends than to have to face the pain of losing them. Though that line of thought had been cut short when Jaskier had casually said that he couldn't exactly die, and though Geralt didn't exactly know how that particular thing had happened, he couldn't say that he didn't like it. Now the only thing that would stop him from being with Jaskier – as a friend − was the bard deciding that Geralt wasn't worth his time and affection anymore, which would hurt too, but Geralt comforted himself by thinking that at least Jaskier would be alive.

“I have money,” he said at last, not knowing how to comfort Jaskier who was crying in his arms. “We should go there, and listen to what they say.”

He had no idea what had happened to their dog, but it must have been bad if Jaskier was in such a state. The bard loved so freely, it was sometimes worrying.

“Yes,” Jaskier nodded, “Yes. Do you think- do you think we should bring him his shirt?” he added tentatively, sniffing.

“I don't know when my shirt became his, but yes,” Geralt tried to joke just to make Jaskier smile, to bring back the spark in his blue eyes.

It worked, somehow, Jaskier smiling thinly, eyes still brimmed with red. How long had he been crying, alone?

“Come on, Jask. No need to stay here when they need us there. I have enough money, take the shirt, and we'll see how our dog is doing. I'm sure he'll be fine.”

Jaskier nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you're right, yes, I- I'll tell you what happened on the way.”

They left the room without looking back, and Geralt, worried about Jaskier and about the dog that had somehow forged a way into his heart, let Jaskier take his hand. He needed the comfort, Geralt thought, and it wasn't hurting anyone. And there was nothing that he could really refuse Jaskier – the mere presence of Butterscotch into their life was proof of that.

Their brown and black dog was in a poor state, his breaths laborious and his eyes glassy.

“I gave him something against the pain”, the apothecary explained, “but it's going to take a few more days until he'll be fine again.”

Geralt felt Jaskier squeeze his hand.

“But he is?” the bard asked, his voice hoarse, “Going to be fine, I mean.”

The apothecary smiled.

“Yes, worry not,” they assured. “Make sure he doesn't eat anything like this again, though.”

As Jaskier had explained to Geralt on the way to the edge of the village where the shop was, he had taken Butterscotch outside for a walk right before the night had fallen, because he had planned to spend the evening playing for the townsfolk and the day was just too beautiful to resist a short stroll.

Since the dog didn't need a leash, Jaskier had let him wander around, keeping an eye on him but not worried. Nothing bad had happened, but right as they were going back into their room, Butterscotch had eaten something that had been left right in front of their door, and had started whining soon after. Jaskier had dropped everything to run to the town’s apothecary, Butterscotch in his arms, worried out of his mind and not even thinking about who could have done it.

It made Geralt's blood boil with rage. He could understand people being prejudiced against him, not liking him and fearing him. But to think that someone had willingly tried to poison his dog – it made him feel furious and guilty. What if they had decided to hurt Jaskier instead? 

“We brought him something,” Jaskier said, taking out the black shirt that was covered in fur, “Can he have it?”

The apothecary sent a knowing look Geralt's way but smiled at them. Jaskier hadn't let Geralt's hand go.

“Of course. I can keep him here for a few days, if that's alright with you.”

Geralt could feel Jaskier's hesitation, though he didn't know what caused it.

“I have coin”, Geralt told them, and he felt Jaskier relax next to him. “It's not going to be a problem. Please just... make sure he doesn't suffer too much?”

Jaskier squeezed his hand again, and Geralt squeezed back to let him know that everything was going to be alright.

“I will,” they promised, “He's lucky to have people as loving as you two are.”

“He's... good,” Geralt said, not really knowing how to answer that. He glanced at Jaskier, only to find that the bard was already looking at him.

“Thank you for taking care of him so late in the evening,” Jaskier yawned, and oh, right, it was well into the night at this point. Geralt hadn't even realized. “We'll be on our way,” Jaskier added, and Geralt took it as his cue to give the apothecary the amount of money they had asked for. “Thank you for taking care of Butterscotch, we'll be back tomorrow to visit him.”

They bid their goodbyes and walked back to their room. Jaskier was silent on their way back to the inn, which was weird but understandable; he seemed to be thinking about something, his scent betraying his sadness and his anxiousness. And if Jaskier's hand found Geralt's again, well, neither of them was going to comment on that.

***

“It's weird, not having to tell him not to climb on the bed,” Geralt remarked a little while later, as they were both trying to sleep, candles blown out a few minutes ago.

When Jaskier didn't reply, he opened his eyes to look at him. Jaskier avoided his eyes, and Geralt frowned.

“I'm worried about him too,” he said, “but they said he was going to be okay. You should try to sleep, Jaskier. It won’t change anything if you stay awake.”

Jaskier sighed, a sigh so sad and so full of anguish that hearing it made Geralt's chest hurt.

“I know, it's just- you aren't going to leave him here, right? After he's well again? Because I know we're both just liabilities to you,” Jaskier went on without caring about Geralt's stunned silence, “But this was my fault and he shouldn't be punished like this – because between you and him I don't know which one I would be able to choose, because choosing you would mean losing him and I think I would hate you for that, but choosing him would mean losing you and I- I can't afford to lose you, Geralt.”

To say that Geralt didn't know what to fucking say would be an understatement; he went for the thing he was the most familiar with.

“What?”

Jaskier sat up and so did he. He cast Igni absentmindedly, thinking that it was a conversation for which they needed to see each other clearly and not in the darkness of an unlit room. It was a mistake, though, because seeing Jaskier's desperate look in the light made Geralt feel... he didn't know what the feeling was, but it was not a good one.

“I mean,” he tried again, “Why the fuck would I leave him here? He's our- I mean, your dog, and you love him, why would I- I would never do that, Jaskier, I-”

A thought occurred to him.

“Wait, what do you mean you're both liabilities?”

“What I mean,” Jaskier said, “and don't you dare deny it, is that I know I don't bring much to you, and that Butterscotch at best amuses you sometimes. And-”

“I love him, Jask,” Geralt interrupted. And I love you, he didn't add.

“Oh,” Jaskier replied, clearly not expecting such an answer. “Well, that's-”

“And you’re not liabilities,” Geralt went on, because that was something that he needed to say, that he apparently should have said sooner if Jaskier was able to say it with so much confidence.

“Geralt, you need to feed him, I’m useless in a fight, and I mostly make you end in problems which you would have been able to stay away from if you had been alone.”

That was… true. Not that Geralt cared.

“Jaskier, you don’t- I was alone. And you decided to be my – friend,” he managed to say, trying not to show how much it scared him to say it out loud, lest Jaskier denied it, “and I don’t mind paying for your dog, or for our food, it’s- it’s how I can take care of you. So. I don’t mind.”

He was the one trying to avoid Jaskier’s gaze, now. The mutations made sure he wasn’t able to blush, but boy did he feel like he was. Eyes cast to the side, he tried to say the last thing he had on his mind, because it felt like it mattered.

“And I- I’m happy that you’re here. On the path with me, I mean. And you’ll be welcome for as long as you want. But you don’t have to feel- obliged to stay,” he choked out, because now that it had been said, Jaskier would surely leave, no matter what he had told before. Geralt thought of the coast, of a blue-eyed man laughing on a beach, throwing a stick for his dog to fetch. “I know you’ll want to leave, and when that time comes I’ll make sure to bring you to safety, not because I don’t think you couldn’t handle yourself but because I know I- I know I would want to- to travel with you one last time.”

Silence fell on the room, but not the right kind of silence. It was not a comforting one, not the kind of soothing silence that seemed to wrap you in a hug, the kind that felt like balm gently applied to a burn; no, it was an burning one, a silence so loud that it hurt, and Geralt found that it was hard for him to breathe. He had said his piece, and now Jaskier knew.

The flame flickered and shadows danced around them, and he found himself wishing that it had been a windy night, because at least that sound would have filled the silence that was suffocating him. Geralt was still waiting for Jaskier to reply something, anything, to yell at him or to let out a relieved smile that would mean Yes, finally, I am free, but Jaskier’s face was completely blank and Geralt didn’t know what that meant.

“Or- or if you don’t want that,” he scrambled to say, suddenly understanding why Jaskier was always talking to fill the silence, “I wouldn’t accompany you, I don’t want you to-”

“Is that why you’ve been so odd lately?” Jaskier interrupted him, frowning, his blue eyes clear despite the low luminosity. “Because you think I want to leave?”

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, not daring to speak too much when Jaskier was finally saying something – and wasn’t that ironic.

“Geralt,” Jaskier started, and the seriousness in his voice almost made Geralt shiver of anxiousness, “the only reason I would leave would be if I wasn’t wanted anymore. Which, if I’m being honest” he added, lips stretched in a bitter smile, “was what I was thinking was happening.”

Jaskier closed his eyes, and to Geralt’s horror he saw tears making their way down his face. He ached to tenderly wipe them out, but knew he couldn’t.

“Jaskier-” he said, suddenly desperate to get the words out, to make this right, to make them right again, “about the other night- when I snapped at you because you said that Butterscotch liked me- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

His friend sighed. It was a tired sigh, a weary one.

“That’s the thing, Geralt – you never mean it,” he smiled, but his smile was as happy as his sigh had been. “But whether you mean it or not, your words, the very few of them that I’m blessed enough to hear – they hurt.”

Geralt could only stare helplessly as Jaskier went on, tears still streaming down his face.

“You are my most precious friend, Geralt, and that’s why I have- why I didn’t say anything. Because you mean well, you’re a good person, and just being around you makes me – it makes me happy, Geralt, to be able to care for you, to give you the few things I have, because with you everything is just – better. And in the end,” he added, wiping out his tears with the back of his hand, “in the end the way I feel when I’m near you is worth the pain your words put me through. You are worth – everything, Geralt of Rivia.”

How had they arrived here? How, after years spent traveling together, could Geralt have been so blind about how he made Jaskier feel?

To learn that he had caused so much anguish and pain to the person he loved the most was making Geralt ache. His first reaction was to dismiss what Jaskier had just said about him, but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? 

“I-,” Geralt tried, tried to be honest and to show more than just aggression for once, “I don’t think of myself that way, so it’s difficult for me to- to think that anyone would. Especially-” he gulped, fighting to get the words out because it felt like if he didn’t, he would lose Jaskier for good, “Especially someone as- as- perfect as you. And it was easier to just dismiss it and push you away than to think about how much – how much I care about you. Because caring about people is – dangerous. Gives them power over you, gives your enemies something to use against you.”

Jaskier was looking at him, hands on his tights; he wasn’t crying anymore, but tears were threatening to fall once again. Geralt hopped, prayed, that it wasn’t because he was hurting him again.

“But you have to know that-,” he started, then stopped because he didn’t know how to say it. “I- I don’t know how to tell you,” he finally admitted. “It’s- like- despite how dangerous it is, I- I let myself care about you, and I- I don’t regret it. I will never regret it, Jaskier, because you are – a blessing. You are a beautiful, perfect thing that my hands don’t know how to touch without breaking it.”

He ached to reach out, to take one the hand that he had been holding earlier.

“So it’s- it’s easier to-”

He had no choice but to say it, hadn’t he? He couldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore, he wouldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore – though was it a lie, to keep the truth silent? He was being a coward and he knew it, but being Jaskier’s friend was better than to confess and to lose his warmth entirely. Though he had been a bad friend to the bard, and – well.

“It was easier to act as if it meant nothing than to admit that I love you,” he mumbled rapidly, afraid that his courage would fail him.

Now that the truth was out in the air, he didn’t dare to glance at Jaskier. What would the look on his face be? Disgust? Pity? Or, somehow worse, just a blank look, synonym of the doom of their already fragile relationship?

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed out, and his voice sounded teary but the sadness from earlier had disappeared. “Is that how you’re thinking? That love is a – liability? That loving me is a liability?”

“That’s how I used to think,” Geralt corrected him, “before I realized that I was wrong. And that’s why – that’s why Butterscotch scares me. Because he’s young, but he will die, and I know that it’ll hurt and-”

“Darling,” Jaskier interrupted, moving on the bed to be sitting next to Geralt, their tights pressed together. Geralt could hear his heartbeat, knew that the other man was nervous, but the closeness felt like acceptance and maybe, maybe, requited love. A hand found his, and Geralt squeezed it without thinking. “Geralt,” Jaskier sighed, “Why do you focus so much on what is going to happen? It prevents you from enjoying life, darling. Butterscotch will die one day, yes, and I know that it will bring me pain, that it will hurt us both. But is that all that you’re thinking about when you see him playing in the dirt? When he sleeps soundly next to you? When you hear a song, darling, do you think about its last notes or do you listen to its melody?”

“I-”

“I’d be a hypocrite,” Jaskier’s voice dropped lower as if he was sharing a secret, “if I didn’t admit that when we meet up in spring, I can’t help but think about the day we’ll go on our separate ways, because it might be the last time I’ll see you. But then I- I force myself not to think about it, because at least six months of the year will be spent next to you, next to the man I love, and-”

“You love me?” Geralt interrupted him, turning his head to look at Jaskier. His red-rimmed blue eyes had never looked more beautiful.

“Of course I do, Geralt, how could I not?”

Jaskier dropped his head on Geralt's shoulder. Geralt didn’t know where their conversation was going, didn’t understand what had just happened – he had been this close to losing Jaskier, had felt the bard closing off, and now they were next to one another, Jaskier’s hair tickling his cheek.

“So that means I- you- forgive me?”

Jaskier stayed silent, but didn’t draw away.

“Yes,” he finally replied, and Geralt frowned slightly.

“I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness,” he started, squeezing Jaskier’s hand when he felt that the other man was about to say something, “but I will do my best to deserve it. I will – I will be more careful with you, Julek,” he swore.

They stayed silent for a bit, but this time Geralt didn’t feel as though he couldn’t breathe. The room around them felt more welcoming, the orange light from the candle warmer than it had been earlier.

“What does that mean for us?” Jaskier asked, and he sounded – hesitant, but hopeful. It was a question easy for Geralt to answer, because he had always been better at acts than at words.

“It means that we’ll stay as long as Butterscotch needs us to, and then we’ll go on with our travels. Maybe we’ll stay near the coast, there are always villages that are in need of witchers there. Butterscotch will go play in the water and I’ll complain when he’ll shake himself, but I’ll give him treats when you won’t be looking.”

A pause, then.

“But he still won’t be allowed to sleep on the bed.”

Jaskier snorted, and Geralt felt relieved beyond measure.

“For now, though,” Geralt added, “I think we should sleep. I did just come back from a hunt, after all, and it is quite late in the night.”

“My poor, dear witcher,” Jaskier smiled, and Geralt tried not to let it show how much it pleased him to be called Jaskier’s until he remembered that actually showing how he felt was important, “you must be exhausted. No kiss for you, then, only resting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier who was looking at him, mirth lighting up his eyes.

“I’m not that tired,” he objected, and Jaskier chuckled.

“Aren’t you? Then I guess I could be convinced to kiss you goodnight.”

Their kiss wasn’t mind-blowing. It just – was. Jaskier’s cheeks were still damp from his crying and their kiss tasted a bit like salt and the angle was weird, but Jaskier sighed in his mouth, a happy sigh, and Geralt found out that he couldn’t wait to do that for the rest of their lives.

Soon they would leave this place and travel, and Geralt would get more injuries and Jaskier would write more songs; but he tried not to think about it, and found it not so difficult to focus on the moment when Jaskier kissed him again.

It was a short kiss, a chaste one; it was a promise for more to come, for sunny days spent in laughter and gloomy evenings spent next to each other, for arguments and reconciliations, and for a life in each other’s company. Just him, Jaskier, and their dog – and Roach. 

[l000ey]

i got you ━ storm

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ━ 𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝗑 𝖻𝗍𝗌

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 ━ 𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝖽

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 ━ 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈, 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾

𝑨/𝑵 ━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹 ━ 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟢

• 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

She laughed at the message Mark had sent her, a stupid instagram meme. She gave it a like while with her left hand she opened the door of the house. She waited to hear the now so familiar screams of the boys when she opened the door but the silence made her raise her head from her phone, she frowned when she saw the seven sitting in the room talking in low voices as if they were sharing secrets, except for Jungkook who was in complete silence staring at the ceiling. She put her bag on the table, the sound of the keys hitting the glass caught the attention of the seven boys.

"What have i done now?" She laughed jokingly as she approached her groupmates. She expected someone to laugh at her joke but none did, not even the slightest smile. Her body tensed as the air in the room thickened.

"We have to talk." Namjoon's serious voice sent a chill run down her spine, she raised an eyebrow leaning against the television cabinet. A memory came to her memory, the situation was very similar to when she almost left the group years ago.

"Uh, okay?" She looked for Yoongi's gaze but he didn't reciprocate as he was very interested in the floor. A pain planted in her chest.

"Did you had sex with Taehyung?" The leader's question almost made her choke on her own saliva, her eyes darted to find the boy who shook his head.

"W-What?" Her voice came out hoarse, suddenly her throat was dry.

They knew it, they knew it and they were going to kick her out of the group. God, she was going to lose her family and everything she had worked for for four quick fucks.

The oldest of the group cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the situation "We know that you and taehyung...you slept together."

"Did you tell him ?!" She exclaimed to Taehyung, shocked and hurt. They had sworn that no one would ever know, for the good of both of them and the group "We agreed that we would not talk about it."

"I didn't say anything" The older's deep voice rang out across the room. The girl snorted in denial and separated her gaze from his.

"Arabella, this is not..."

“Look, it was many years ago and it was only once. You don't have to worry, we have nothing. We're just friends. ”She crossed her arms over her chest interrupting the leader.

"But that doesn't matter!" He raised his voice making everyone jump in their place. His face had turned red and the vein on his neck popped out “Since they put Yoongi hyung, Hoseok, you and me together we decided that nothing could ever happen in the group. Don't you understand how dangerous this is? BTS could go to hell for your hormones!" The leader was angry and it could be clearly seen since he never raised his voice to the girl, he never swore when he addressed her, much less called her by her name.

At that moment she wanted to cry.

“You are stupid! All our work, everything we've suffered could go to shit because of you. Do you understand?" He screamed again and this time a pout formed on her lips, Namjoon's gaze softened for a moment when he saw her like that but he quickly returned to its dark and cold tone "We live scared if at some point someone finds out who you are sleeping with, but this is the last straw".

"Namjoon..." She heard Jin in a mumble but they both ignored him. The only girl clenched her jaw angrily, she hated feeling like this. With tearful eyes she looked up at him.

“I know it was stupid but we were kids. It has not happened again and it will never happen again. I understand that you are angry, but you must stop treating me like if i was a fucking kid. I have sex, I like sex!" She exclaimed approaching him. Yoongi and Hoseok got up quickly in case they had to intervene “I'm not a baby. I'm not fourteen anymore, Namjoon. You can stop being my father, I'm old enought for that" Her tone relaxed, she looked at him sadly but more angrily.

Namjoon barely glanced at her before speaking again, this time with disdain “You have disappointed me, Arabella. I expected more from you, i expected for you to not be a whore”.

A silence filled the room, although it was interrupted by gasps of surprise from some of the members. She opened her mouth, looking at him hurt. This couldn't be happening. She sniffed, looking at him saddened and angry. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry "I guess you're not the only one disappointed here."

She went to the table and after taking her bag she approached the door, she looked at him with a sarcastic smile "Ah, I've done threesomes, put it on the list of disappointments."

And with that she left the house. The pale skinned one sighed, drawing everyone's attention.

"Where are you going, hyung?" Jimin's sweet voice brought some peace to the tense situation.

Without looking at him, Yoongi headed for the door as well “I'll go find her. It's late, I don't want something to happen to her”.

"Let me know when you find her." He and Seokjin shared a nod before he left the house. The older of the group turned his head towards the leader "Nam, I can't believe you say that to her."

“Hyung, it was my fault. I kissed her” The other protagonist of the drama confessed looking at how his fingers played between them. He looked up at the youngest rapper in the room "I started it all, it wasn't her fault. After having se-..." He swallowed so hard his throat hurt when the older one glared at him "... doing that she felt very bad about what happened, she even cried".

"Was that why you didn't talk to each other for a whole month?" Jhope shifted instead so he could focus on his donsaeng better "That was in...2010? If I remember correctly" When he nodded Jimin pulled his little hands out of his hoodie pockets and started counting on his fingers, he gasped widening his eyes in surprise.

"You were sixteen and she was fifteen, you were very young."

This time it was Seokjin who gasped as he hit the boy sitting next to him on the shoulder "You perverted my baby!" He brought his hand to his chest in a dramatic "My poor baby."

"Well, it seems that she is not much of a saint either" Jimin's laugh sounded like one of a schoolgirl excited by some rumor.

"No...let's not talk about this anymore" The voice of the dimpled one interrupted the light atmosphere that Jimin and Jin had managed to create to ease the tension. As soon as he spoke the air became thick again. He glared at them from his spot "We won't tell anyone, but I don't want to see Taehyung and Arabella alone. We'll have to keep our eyes open."

"Hyung" Daegu's boy whimpered like a regretful puppy, he opened his mouth to explain that his relationship with Bella was no longer like that but the sound of the eldest Kim's cell phone interrupted him.

The name of the other boy from Daegu was written on the screen when Jin took the phone out of his pocket, quickly accepted the call and put it on the speaker.

"Have you found her? Is she okay?" Hoseok was the first to speak, approaching his hyung almost sitting on top of Jimin, who complained.

"No, I've gone to her apartment but she's not there. I've called some of her friends but Venus won't pick it up, Sunmi is in Japan and Mark says he has no idea pf whre she can be. I can't think of who else to call, I'm going to that coffee shop that she like so much but I doubt she is there. "

Taehyung bit his lower lip bringing his face closer to the phone while the others shared worried glances "Maybe she went to some party, maybe she's at Red sunbaenim's nightclub."

"Jigoku? Nah, it's closed today. I looked at it on their schedule on Google" The wind sounded strong making Yoongi have to raise his voice so they were able to hear him, he frowned when he got to the cafeteria and saw that It was closed. He looked at the time on his rolex, of course it was closed, it was one thirty in the morning. He let out a sigh "The cafeteria is closed."

"Maybe she went to one of our apartments, we all have keys" Jimin shrugged trying to come up with a solution.

"Why would she go to one of our houses having her own?" Yoongi's kick came off the phone again "Yah, Park Jimin that's so stupid."

The grey haired boy made a mini pout "I just wanted to help."

"I think it's not a bad idea, we should at least go check it out" Jin said while Hoseok stroked Park's arm trying to comfort him.

Jungkook got up from his place, all eyes were directed to him since he had not said anything at any time. Namjoon, who had also remained silent, frowned as he saw the maknae disappear down the hall and a few seconds later he returned with his keys in hand.

"Where are you going?".

The smallest of the group looked at him without any expression "To fix your mistake" And then he went out the door making him sigh, he brought his face against his hands.

"These kids are going to kill me one day."

A few minutes later Jungkook found himself in the elevator of the expensive and luxurious apartment building in which the group lived. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, he was angry and hurt but mostly confused. He liked Arabella, fuck liking. He was in love with Arabella Lee and knowing that she had slept with Taehyung didn't help his feelings, of course. He clenched the bunch of keys in his hands, not only was he angry at Arabella, Taehyung and himself but he was also angry at Namjoon. How dare he call her a whore when she looked at him as if he painted the stars and hung the moon in the sky? Namjoon was one of the people Arabella loved the most in this world but he had to open his big mouth while he seeing everything red.

He sighed trying to relax when he started to shiver with anger, he decided to think of something else like where he could find the girl. He got out of the elevator when it opened letting him see the garage full of expensive cars, he went to his but something made him stop in the way. He looked at the green sign that indicated the stairs and below these a panel with the number of floors in the building, a little light came on over his head when he read the word rooftop.

She loved the rooftops, she loved to go up to smoke while she saw the views that the city of Seoul could offer.

"I got you" He smiled and went back to the elevator, pressing the button that led to the top floor, when he reached it he went to the stairs that led to the rooftop. He opened the door and immediately found her, there she was smoking a cigarette exactly as he had predicted.

He sighed again, this time remembering the last time the two of them met on a rooftop. He mentally cursed before approaching her, he gave her a small smile when she looked up and their eyes locked. She did not answer him but after a few seconds observing him without saying anything she got up releasing the white tube and throwing herself at his arms, it was not long until he felt his shirt get wet. He stroked her back lovingly, letting her cry.

"Shh, I got you. Everything is okay" He kissed her hair ignoring the bitter feeling that began to rise in the back of his throat.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//general dating headcannons//

Characters: Daishou Suguru/ Kita Shinsuke/ Yamaguchi Tadashi

Warnings: i don’t think any??

Word Count: 2K (~650 a piece)

Notes: i am soft for kita shinsuke. that is all.

Daishou Suguru

He’s a top tier boyfriend and no one is allowed to tell me otherwise

He is a first-class WEENIE for his s/o and would genuinely do anything for them

But noooo y’all hate him smh

Daishou is the kind of person who puts every important date of your relationship in his phone.  He is never missing your anniversary or your birthday or any other important relationship dates.  

He’s a good morning/good night texter too.  I know that everyone thinks he’s an asshole, but after being broken up with for focusing too much on a club, he doesn’t want you to feel like he only cares about volleyball.  If he’s going to be busy for a few hours, he’s going to tell you so you don’t think he’s just flat out ignoring you

I promise, he will let you do anything to him if you just ask.  Want to try to curl his hair?  Cool, just please don’t burn him.  You want to pluck his eyebrows?  Go ahead.  He doesn’t mind.  Did you see this really cute nail design that you want to try? Suguru already has his hand held out towards you so you can practice.

He’s not telling anyone that he does all of this so willingly though.  He has to maintain some essence of coolness

Literally the whole volleyball team knows that he’s a total simp, so idk who the hell he thinks he’s hiding it from

His love language is quality time, so as long as he’s with you, he’s perfectly content.  Daishou will happily just sit next to you for hours, sending each other memes or stupid tiktoks.

When it comes to actually going out on dates, he’s really simple.  He likes picnics in the park or taking hikes or going stargazing.  It feels very intimate to him and allows a certain degree of vulnerability that can’t be found anywhere else.

You guys went stargazing on your first date and he brought you flowers and the two of you shared snacks it was all very cute and there was no way that you weren’t going to go on a second date with him

Speaking of flowers-

One time you made him mad over something really stupid and he brought you some flowers as a partial apology for him being overdramatic, but the card just said “fuck you” in really pretty lettering, but there was a really small, “but also, I love you” on the other side.

The two of you pick up random hobbies together?  For no other reason than the two of you spend an awful lot of time just sitting at each other's house?  So, you decided to do something other than just sit on your phones for h o u r s

You’ve made those giant arm-knitted blankets together.  One time, you tried to make soap, but it didn’t smell good so that hobby got scrapped.  You’ve tried to learn how to roller skate together, but Daishou almost broke his arm so you thought maybe something less dangerous like puzzles.  But, those got old really fast.

Please for the love of god run your hand over his arms.  He will be putty in your hands.  He loves it so much.

Better yet?  Put your hands on his biceps when he kisses you and he’s a happy boy.  His arms are the feature that he’s most proud of, so knowing that you like them too is a big boost to his ego.

He has two main nicknames for you smh.  When he’s teasing or just being a little shit, he calls you sweetheart.  If he actually wants to be affectionate, Daishou calls you babygirl.

He’ll pull you into his lap and pepper your face in kisses while telling you, “I love you, babygirl, you know that?”

If you call him ‘Sugu’ or just ‘ru’ he may actually die right there.   It just plucks something in his heart that sends him to cloud-9.  

Suguru really is a fantastic boyfriend who just wants you to be happy ;-; He wants you to smile and laugh and be comfortable around him, because he’s here for the long-haul.  When Daishou falls in love, he falls hard

Kita Shinsuke

An absolute sweetheart

He’s going to take care of you so good

Kita for sure walked straight up to you and asked you on a date.  He gave zero fucks.  Nerves?  Kita has never heard of them before. If you reject him, you reject him.  It’s not like it’s the end of the world.

You met his grandmother really early into the relationship because she’s really important to Kita, so he needed to know that she approved of you before fully committing to a relationship with you.

But, I promise, she loves you and now that Kita is finally dating someone, she’s going to pester him about wedding plans once he comes home from your date.  She doesn’t care that this is only the second date.  She wants to see her grandson married.

Kita genuinely loves domestic life?  Please please please come over and cook with him.  If you offer to help him with the dishes, he may propose right there.  Okay not literally but you know what i mean.  Come over on Saturdays for laundry and gardening.

I should mention that dating Kita isn’t always chores and housework, but even when it is, it really doesn’t feel like it?  The two of you joke around, definitely throwing dirt at one another while you’re pulling weeds in the garden or flicking water at him while doing the dishes.  

He’s an “acts of service” kind of person.  Little things like having your favorite snacks in the cabinets for when you come over or turning the heat up before you get there so it’ll be warm because he knows you get gold. You left your math binder at his house once, so he took the time to put all of the loose papers where he knew you would’ve wanted them.

If you’re a person who gets periods, he has pads and extra painkillers stocked in the bathroom cabinet.

Please note that Kita has zero shame in buying you period products.  You need tampons?  Okay.  What size and what brand?  Do you want anything else?  He can get some snacks while he’s at the store too.  You can say no and he’s going to pick up a package of pizza rolls anyway.  He knows you well enough that you’ll say no, but only tell him that you're hungry the minute he gets home.  He’s played this game before.  He knows. 

It makes his grandmother so proud, seeing him love and care so wholeheartedly for another person that isn’t related to him.  She just knows that he’ll make an excellent husband to you one day

She cares about you just as much as he does.  Kita mentioned that you weren’t feeling well once, and she packed up a bunch of leftovers and some tea for him to take over to you, pretty much telling him not to come back until you were feeling well again.

Kita doesn’t beat around the bush, so if he has something he wants to tell you, he’s just going to say it.  Communication is really important to him and he believes that it’s the key to a healthy and happy relationship.

But, because of this, it took him a while to say I love you.  He didn’t want to just say it, you know?  He wanted to genuinely mean it. He believes that that phrase gets tossed around too easily. So, it was a few months before he actually said it, but you knew that he was serious when he did.

He likes to kiss the top of your head.  If you’re tall, he enjoys kisses to your temple just as much.

I 10/10 recommend a Kita.  He would love you wholeheartedly and, don’t tell his grandmother, he really does want to spend the rest of his life with you.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Another absolute sweetheart of a boyfriend oml

But, I promise that you’re probably going to have to make the first move if you want anything to come from this.  

He’s just so shy and nervous when talking to people that he finds cute ;-;

Although, there is a chance that Tsukishima told him to get over himself and just ask you out.  

“It’s not that big of a deal.  If they say no, you move on.” 

Shut up, Tsukki.

Yamaguchi really likes to hold your hand.  It’s really grounding for him, so if he’s ever starting to get panicked, he’ll reach for your hand.

Before every game, he has to hold your hand and he’ll squeeze it three times before he has to go.  So, if he starts to panic during the game, he has a fresh memory of the feeling of your hand in his.

Yamaguchi lets you wear his jacket during games ;-;  He didn’t even think about it as something to show you off as his, he was just worried that you might get chilly in the stands, so he offered for you to take it.

But, now he’s obsessed with how cute you look with his jacket around your shoulders that he’s letting you hold onto it whenever he gets the opportunity.  

Study dates study dates study dates

The two of you will either go to a cafe or a library and claim a table and just hang out and do homework together.  If you’re struggling with something, he’ll walk you through it.  He moved his chair close to yours so that your knees just barely brushed against one another.  

He loves to bring you little gifts.  If he sees something in a shop that reminds him of you or if he thinks you might like it, he’ll buy it and give it to you the next time he sees you.

He usually doesn’t like nicknames?  He'd rather just be called by his actual name, but something about you calling him ‘dashi’ just feels right and he really likes it.

Tadashi has a lot of insecurities, especially in the start of your relationship with him.  He doesn’t understand why you’re so willing to be with him?? He’s just a bundle of nerves and he’s convinced that you could do so much better than him, but yet you still stay with him?  

It took him a really long time to get comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship and realize that you weren’t going to just dump him because you really got to know him, but when he does get comfortable, it’s like he’s a totally new person.  His nervous laughter actually becomes more full and free and he smiles a lot wider.  He isn’t afraid to tease you and he’s a lot more open about his emotions.

Tsukki is the first one to really notice just how good you are for Yamaguchi.  Tadashi isn’t super open with anyone but him, at least, until you came along and gave Tadashi another person that he could connect with and feel comfortable around.

Tadashi loves it when you play with the hair at the base of his neck.  It feels so comforting and he would love to just fall asleep right there with your fingers in his hair.  Everytime you play with his hair, his head immediately goes to your shoulder and he’ll wrap his arms around your midsection and tell you that he loves you.

You will never go a day without Tadashi telling you that he loves you and that you’re absolutely incredible.  He finds something to compliment you on every single day because he just wants you to know that you’re loved and, while yes, he does find you absolutely beautiful, sometimes it’s nice to be complimented on things other than physical appearance and that’s where Yamaguchi really shines.

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @lovinnoya  and my fellow daishou suguru simp @kuronekomama​}

[simplydm]

I’m still awake tonight

Have another fic

It had been quite a while since Sam had stayed at the house for more then a few hours. But Bad and Ant were guarding the prison, and they had all but forced him to go back to his base.

“You need to sleep in a real bed!” Bad had insisted, eyes flicking to the pile of blankets on the floor in Sam’s office. “Take the night off- we’ll call you if anything happens.”

So Sam was here, in his house that kind of smelled musty. He let Fran out and, blatantly ignoring the mess of chests and dirt in the main halls, made his way to his bedroom. He collapsed backwards on top of the sheets, letting out a long sigh. His eyes met Ponk’s eyes on the ceiling and then he closed them.

“What the fuck?” Sam’s eyes flew back open, and after a moments panic, let out an exasperated sigh. He stood up reluctantly and pulled down the picture of Ponk’s face from the ceiling. A classic Ponk prank- putting pictures anywhere and everywhere to get a laugh. Well, it sure had gotten Sam. Sam clicked his tongue and put the picture on the bedside table, face-down. He lay back down, Fran coming to lay beside him.

“How long was that up there?” He asked Fran. “Hell, how long has it been since I stayed the night here?” He racked his brain, but nothing came of it. He had been in and out of the house for resources, but actually staying here? Probably before he and Ponk-

Sam shook his head as if to fling the thoughts from his head. Push it away, he firmly told himself. He lay there for a moment, definitely not thinking about the pretty boy who smelled like lemons. Almost without thinking, he grabbed the picture again and held it above him. It was some meme picture of Ponk, taken a long time ago, Sam realized with a jolt, as he saw Ponk’s left arm in frame, unblemished and still attached to his body. He looked so happy. So beautiful. Not that he didn’t look beautiful now…

“Damn it.” Sam groaned, flinging his arm over his eyes. Ponk was a criminal, a direct threat to the prison. He always annoyed Sam and tried to get under his skin. “Ponk.” He whispered his name like Ponk could hear him. But there was just silence, and Fran shifting slightly.

Sam lay there for a long time, arm pressed against his closed eyes. He ran a thumb carefully over the edge of the picture, trying to tell himself that this was a bad idea.

He eventually reached for his communicator and dialed, holding it to his ear. His heart thrummed, and an ache in his stomach was telling him exactly how stupid he was being right now.

“Hello?”

Ponk’s voice was groggy and slurred.

“Did I wake you?” Sam asked, unconsciously slipping into the deep, flirty voice he did especially for Ponk.

There was a moment of silence. “…Yes.” Ponk finally answered in a guarded tone.

“I’m sorry.” Sam considered hanging up right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to bring the communicator away from his ear. Even Ponk’s damn breathing was addictive.

“What do you want, Sam?” Ponk asked. His voice was clipped, dull.

“Do you wanna come over?” Sam knew how pathetic he sounded. The sleaziest of pickup lines, on a man who hated him. That’s alright, Sam countered, I hate myself anyway.

Ponk was silent again. Sam pressed the communicator even further against his ear, almost wishing he could fly through the phone lines and right into Ponk’s room.

There was a sudden click, and the dull beeping of a call broken up. Sam pulled his communicator away from his face.

“Fuck.”

He put the communicator down and lay his arm over his face again. So much for that. Probably for the best, though. Sam’s thoughts tended to get a bit confusing around Ponk. It was a lot easier when he wasn’t around.

A beeping interrupted Sam’s hazy thoughts. Sam looked at the screen over on the desk- a security alarm was going off. Someone was near the house. Sam got up and tried to access the cameras, but they were all out of service. Oh, right, someone had stolen them months ago.

He grabbed a trident leaning against the wall and stalked out to the front door. He knew he looked a mess, with his dog-patterned pajama pants and no shirt, but the trident should help his image.

The door suddenly ground into life, sinking down into the floor. And there stood Ponk on the other side, glaring up at Sam.

“Ponk?” Sam asked in surprise. Ponk stepped inside and pressed the button for the door to go back up. He was dressed in a deep red cloak and his mask, and he came to stand right in front of Sam. Sam looked down at him- he had always enjoyed his height advantage over Ponk- with his heart hammering.

“Sam, why the fuck did you booty call me?” Sam’s brain short-circuited- Ponk’s voice was gravely and sleepy, something Sam hadn’t heard in who knows how long.

“Ponkie,.. god, you’re so cute…” Sam reached for Ponk’s mask. Ponk went completely still as Sam’s fingers brushed the cloth along his jaw.

Ponk moved suddenly, and Sam felt a sharp pain to the stomach. He dropped to the ground with a groan. Ponk’s fist packed a lot more punch now that it wasn’t made out of flesh.

“You can’t just fucking call me at three in the morning with your voice all low and expect me to run over here with my arms outstretched, like nothing ever fucking happened, Sam!”

“But yet here you are.” Sam laughed, then choked as Ponk dropped to straddle Sam’s chest, a delicate but deadly knife pressed to his throat. He knew that knife, red and gold handle, with an engraved blade. It had been a present from him to Ponk.

“I came here because I knew if I didn’t, this would just keep happening.” Ponk’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Sam, stop fucking talking to me. Please. What the hell is it gonna take?”

“I taught you to fight, Ponkie. But that also means that I know your moves and your weaknesses.” Sam laughed, ignoring Ponk’s questions. He started to move to the left, to throw Ponk off, but Ponk pressed his thumb hard against Sam’s throat. He choked.

“You’re not the only one whose taught me to how to fight, Sam.” Ponk said, settling himself more firmly on top of Sam, his feet all but crushing Sam’s wrists. “So shut the fuck up and actually listen for once.” Ponk took a deep breath. “Sam, you tortured me and cut my arm off. Time and time again you’ve proven that your only loyalties are to power and image and your own fears. And I know there’s no stopping you, because I know how it gets to you. I said it while lava was pouring over me, and I’ll say it again: I’d rather be a ghost then see you like this. When your actions catch up to you, and they will, I will have a place for you. But until then, stay the fuck away from me.”

Ponk clambered to his feet swiftly, but Sam made no move to grab him. He lay there, face-up, as Ponk activated the door. It closed behind him with a boom, and a deep silence fell. Sam was still on his concrete floor, as if Ponk were still on top of him with a knife. Sam lay there for a long time, thinking about nothing in particular, yet everything all at once.

[thirstystarkey]

HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.

Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat

CHAPTER 06

While the HMS pogue cut it’s way through the river all the pogues, except JJ and Y/N, chatted happily sharing some cool beers Kie had previously brought with her.

“What’s going on?” Kiara asked her friends due to the strange silence between them. She was used to break their fights and now they didn’t even talked.

“Nothing.” Y/N started, a bit annoyed. “Aside from my best friends basically kidnapping me.” Y/N looked at JJ who agreed with his head at her saying. “What did you said to my mom?”

“Oh that..” Kiara changed her body language, automatically looking over at the other boys who didn’t seem very excited to explain either.

“Before they start, I just want to say I wasn’t participating I was just supervising!” Pope said. Raising both hands in the air.

“What could you possibly say to my mother that is worse than what you already done to us?” Y/N asked, afraid of the answer.

“We said you and JJ went on a date.” John B announced fast.

“What?” The red head girl gasped.

“That’s not all we said.” Kiara began.

“Are you guys insane?” JJ manifested.

“They are!” Pope pointed at John B and Kiara.

“We also told your mother you were dating JJ.” John B tried not to laugh.

“I’m going to kill everyone of you while you all sleep.” Y/N was beyond pissed. “I bet my mom didn’t believe that bullshit.”

“Well, she actually did.” Pope said. “She even said she already suspected it.”

JJ and Y/N shared a disgusted look between them. The idea of them dating seemed so surreal to Y/N she almost felt sick to her stomach. The idea of dating Y/N scared JJ, he never had a actual serious girlfriend and he knew Y/N didn’t do the whole one night stand stuff. They were polar opposites.

In the next few days Y/N was on a mission to avoid her mom. She slept at Kiara’s home most of the days and when she eventually went home Y/N didn’t stayed long enough for her mom to ask any questions or even have the talk. Y/N never took any boys home, no one ever stood a chance with her for she always thought they were stupid and didn’t care about the same things as her. They didn’t see her for her but rather for her looks and Y/N loathed them for that. The other boys saw her as a price, a price they could never claim for Y/N was no trophy. She was free, she was a force of nature, she had the ocean’s soul in her spirit.

“Hello? Y/N?” Kiara called while snapping two fingers in her best friends face.

They were all at the beach enjoying a hot late afternoon after a surf session but Y/N’s mind was off and far from being chill. She had a storm called JJ Maybank living inside her mind creating a itch she couldn’t scratch. All the looks she receive around the island made her want to fight them for believing in her best friends lie.

“Wha-”

Y/N wasn’t able to finish her sentence because JJ picked her up throwing her in his shoulder easily, running at the waves direction. She screamed loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, her friends just laughed at the view.

When the cold water hit her body she swore it felt like tiny needles poking her.

“JJ why would you do this?” Y/N fumed.

“Because we need to talk, girlfriend.” He tried to keep her in place while she tried to run back to her towel.

“Fuck off and don’t call me that.” Y/N pulled JJ’s hair making him let her go off his grip.

Back at the sand her friends were laughing at the top of her lungs pointing at her and the blue eyed boy and that alone made her angry. They were having so much fun with her situation and she wanted to kick their asses.

“Even if you two were dating I bet it wouldn’t last for a month.” Pope said trying to catch his breath with a hand on his toned chest.

“A month? I wouldn’t give these two more than a week, with luck.” Kiara made her point.

“I’m done with this, I’m going home.” Y/N was livid, at the point off almost crying with anger. “Have fun.”

“And your mom?” John B inquired, they knew she was avoiding her mom for dear life.

“I don’t care.” She mumbled. “I will deal with her.” She said shrugging her shoulders. “But I can’t deal with this bullshit now.” Y/N pointed at her friends.

When she finished packing her things JJ tried to stop her but he couldn’t catch her in time to talk to her, so he decided to call it a day as well making his way back to John B’s chateau.

Once home the redheaded girl thanked god her mom wasn’t home, Tina had left her a note.

“I’m working a late shift don’t wait for me, we still need to talk about JJ, I love you honey.”

A loud sigh was heard from her, after reading the note Y/N made her way to the bathroom, she needed a warm bath to relax from before. When she was done and the water had run cold Y/N stepped out and dressed some comfy clothes, her plan for the night was to lay in her bed and ignore her problems. Pretending like she didn’t even existed.

But the girl was in a bad luck strike for her phone rang with a buzz not long after she started watching Gossip Girl on netflix.

With was a text message from JJ, which was weird, they never texted. They only texted each other to mock one another or when he sent her memes making fun of her, which she secretly laughed at and sometimes saved them. Something she would never admit to anyone.

JJ 🏄🏼‍♂️: Meet me at our beach in 15, we need to talk. I’m serious now.

JJ was never serious so she knew something was going on. She didn’t knew why she jumped right off her bed first thing when she finished reading the text message, she put on her black vans and grabbed her oversized jean jacket along with her keys on her way out.

As soon as Y/N’s had arrived at the beach both her and JJ surfed, the reason he called it their beach, she saw JJ standing there, with his back against the lifeguard house, in his hand a lit joint.

“Why did you call me here JJ?” Y/N voice was soft, she was actually tired. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I.” The boy agreed. “But I think we should get back at them for this little stupid prank.” JJ suggests.

They sat together at the steps and JJ offered to share his joint with the red head girl, who normally didn’t smoke but it had been a long day so she gladly took his offer, immediately surprise because JJ weed was strong.

“What’s the plan?” She asked after freeing the smoke from her lips, passing the joint to JJ.

“We should let everyone think we are actually dating, for a month.” JJ said serious. He wasn’t joking.

“You mean, date date?”

“Yes smartass, date date.” JJ giggled at her confusion.

“You’re insane.” The girl blurred out. “Last week we couldn’t stand being close and now you want to pretend we are together.” She pointed back and forth between them. “Actual dating, as in you are my boyfriend.” She laughed.

If there was one thing Y/N and JJ had in common it was their pride. Both of them being to stubborn to lose a bet or to let anyone say they couldn’t do a certain thing. But they never thought the pogues would use that in their disadvantage.

“So what you say, frenemies baby?” JJ held his hand her way.

“Frenemies.” They said in unison.

“But meet me at my place tomorrow, we need to figure this thing out.” Y/N warned JJ while getting up.

“Is lunch included in that talk?” JJ questioned with a raised brow.

“I can make something.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Then it’s a date babe.” JJ winked at her blowing her a kiss but Y/N raised her middle finger at him.

Tag list 💞

@thatsonobx @starkeybaby @this-is-bigger-than--us @ahhireallydontknow @tomzfrog @alotbnouf @outerbankstings @jj-maybank-stan @jellyfishbeansontoast @rafecamerondeservesbetter @im-a-strange-thing @tangledinsparkles @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @helplessquotess @tembo-ndoto @poguebx @k-k0129 @pleaseminho @obxmxybxnk @stilinskiandsuch @lcil123 @fandom-phaser @sexualparkour @myrandom-fandomlife @lasnaro @kristineee-obx @sw-eat-ing @strangebirds2 @kiarascarreras @jjswhore @milamaybank @marveloucnco @downbytheouterbanks @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @annedub @drizzlethatfalls @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl @whoreforouterbanks @newhopenessie @maybebanks @poguesrforlife @shawnssongs @wastedheartcth @rudyypankow @danicarosaline