#and then i think. have i EVER noticed or remembered what shoes someone was wearing?

[natjennie]

idk who might need this but it's been the most influential shift in perspective in my entire life: if you're worried about doing something embarrassing like "oh my hair looks weird today" or "I slipped down the stairs and now everyone hates me" think about your memory of other people. have you ever noticed or cared about if a stranger's hair looked a little off? have you seen someone get hurt in public and thought anything other than "I hope they're okay" ? no, probably not. so probably no one is going to be thinking it about you.

#like every time i wear my slides anywhere im like 'ouaahh idk these are all old and ugly and dont match my outfit' #and then i think. have i EVER noticed or remembered what shoes someone was wearing? #no! unless it was to compliment them I have never cared about what strangers are doing. #so probably no one cares about me!

[husbandhoshi]

[9:47 AM] *suggestive

the first thing you learn about seungcheol is that his towels are embroidered. csc, they read, in gold thread on absurdly plush bath towels.

(actually, the first thing you learned about him was that he's a good kisser. you learned this the hard way, outside the bar, after all your friends had gone home and it just was you, him, and his tongue in your mouth.)

as a rule, you try not to learn anything about your late night escapades, but, evidently, you have already failed.

it's easy to notice his bathroom looks much bigger than it did last night, now that all the lights are on. he has not one, but two, matching rugs, and the sconce lights make the marble countertop look like it's made of water. nestled in the corner is a little tray with all his cologne lined up end to end—armani, dior, chanel.

you pick up the silvery one on the end and smell the cap. (yes, this one. he was wearing this one last night, right in the space where his collarbone met the base of his neck. you had kissed him there, and he had asked you to go home with him. creed, aventus, it says.)

he even has the drunk elephant moisturizer, although it looks criminally underused. it sits among a small pile of skincare that looks like it costs twice your monthly paycheck, if you had worked overtime.

you have to remind yourself you're not here to snoop through rich people's bathrooms, as fun as that sounds.

seungcheol was a quick fuck (and a really good one at that), but you already feel like you've overstayed your welcome.

the plan—in and out. you hate the sticky, too-warm goodbyes, the small talk at the kitchen table, the unexpected rattle of a roommate coming home. worst of all, they never want you as badly in the morning as they did the night before.

but the plan has already gone to shit. you woke up practically spooning him and your little bathroom detour cost you ten minutes. and it's almost 10, which is what he has his two-hundred dollar alarm clock set to.

you shut the bathroom door as quietly as you can, hoping to make a quick getaway. but it's here, caught in the waxy overcast from the huge windows, where, for the first time in your life, you almost want to say fuck the plan.

"morning," seungcheol hums, propping himself up on the bed. you take one look at him, shirtless and sweats slung low, and you lose the plot entirely.

yesterday, when you had met, it looked like he was made in some kind of factory for hot men—starched white shirt rolled to the forearms, hair perfectly gelled, and a fat breitling watch hugging his wrist. and yet, as you watch him blow a cowlick out of his eyes, he seems even more attractive, which you would have never thought possible.

"someone's eager to get outta here," he says, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes. "don't tell me it was that bad for you."

you smile nervously. what you can remember about last night is that it was anything but bad. the whole thing makes your face feel hot—you are no prude, but he sure makes you feel like one.

"is that what it looks like?" you answer. you realize you can't find your shoes. you think he threw them somewhere last night, between the memory of his hand up your dress and yours in his hair. he kissed his way up your legs and you forgot you even had shoes to worry about.

"almost, if you weren't checking me out just now."

damn. guilty as charged. you can't help it. things feel too good to be true.

first, you learned you got fucked by a million dollar dick last night. now, instead of kicking you out like any other one night stand, he's acting decent, maybe even more than decent. and he has the tits of a god.

seungcheol sees your face wrench up in puritanical shame and he laughs.

"well, if you have time in your busy, busy schedule," he starts, with a grin that makes you dizzy. "i'm making breakfast. and i would love to eat it with you."

suddenly you don't know why you ever had a plan in the first place. you watch him attempt to wink at you from all the way across the room and you think getting to know him might not be such a bad thing after all. maybe things are too good to be true, but you're willing to find out.

needless to say, the second thing you learn about seungcheol is that he cannot cook.

the third? he's an even better kisser sober.

#GUNSHOTS. #this was supposed to be cute but i made it horny. sorry #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #mine #rq

[ladykailitha]

Random steddie thought of the day:

Eddie is shocked to find out that when Steve turned eighteen whenever his parents weren't in town, he'd go to the nearest big city and make out with guys. He wouldn't call it sex, though he did get off a lot, but nothing went into any holes so he doesn't think it counts. He's always super careful, he knows there is a pandemic going on.

But he doesn't go as Steve, he goes as (insert middle name here, I went with Linus) an alter ego of his. The rich preppy clothes are gone, the expensive hair products and anything thing that might scream STEVE HARRINGTON is gone. He slicks back his hair and wears a baseball cap.

All his clothes are thrifted, even down to the watch and shoes. He borrows Robin's parents' car so no one recognizes the Bimmer.

He wears cropped tops and booty shorts, he does everything he can to become someone else.

So when Robin tells Eddie this, she tells him that Steve doesn't date these guys, he's never wanted to allow them into his life and the fact that he's is seriously considering it with Eddie is a HUGE deal.

Only Eddie is a little hung up on a guy he met in Indy. So beautiful and funny. He doesn't remember the guy's name or if he ever got it. But he fell in love with this guy just a little bit.

So to cover up for the fact that he's an idiot, he tells Robin there is no way that Steve could become someone else. He's just too Steve.

So one night when the older teens have had a little too much to drink, a little too much weed, Robin convinces Steve to become Linus to prove to Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie that Steve isn't the dumb jock everyone says he is.

So Steve drunkenly stumbles away to go get ready and the other teens get a little more stoned, so Eddie might be a little excused when he freaks out when Steve steps out as his dream guy.

Everyone else is laughing and cheering Steve on, but Eddie is instantly sober. And he has very mixed feelings about this. Because on the one hand, he knows who his dream guy is and the real person is every bit as wonderful as he remember, if not more so. But at the same time he feels disappointed Steve didn't remember him, didn't remember the night they shared together. And that hurts.

Steve notices that Eddie isn't laughing and tugs at the hem of his crop top nervously. And that shatters something in Eddie. That this beautiful boy just wants to be loved and fucking hell, he can do that. He walks up to Steve and runs his fingers through his hair to fluff it back out again so that it's Steve again.

Steve gasps at the motion and his eyes meet Eddie's. "Baby?"

This time it's Eddie's turn to gasp. "You do remember?" Baby is what Eddie would go by when he was just looking for a hook up. When men would ask his name, he'd tell them they could just call him their baby.

Steve chewed his bottom lip. "A little. I won't lie and say that a lot of that time didn't just blended together. But I remember how safe I felt with you."

"God damn it, Stevie," Eddie cursed, "you are my high school crush, the man of my dreams, and my rescuer and protector, what chance did I have against all that? I love you."

Steve leans forward and they start kissing. It's a while before they come up for air, but when they do they find that the other three had gone home because they didn't want to witness what will most likely come next.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

#sakira! #sakiras writing notebook!!! #bsd x reader #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #Bsd fanfic #Bsd drabble #Drabbles #dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #Osamu dazai #Bsd dazai #Spicy

[danikamariewrites]

Just Us

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: part 2 is here! Although I don’t really like calling it a part two because I don’t see it as a series, I don’t have a better name for it so we’re just going to call it a series. I just see this as a universe with ongoing stories/one-shit fics and headcanons lol. Thank you for all the love this is getting though! I’m so happy so many of you want to be tagged for these posts ❤️

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

Digging out another option from Mor’s closet I start to panic. Azriel will be here in two hours to pick me up and it feels like every part of me is sweating from nerves. I wipe my hands on my leggings so I can grip the velvet hanger better. I turn to face the chaos Mor and Feyre have created. 

Shoes from each of their closests and mine, eyeshadow pallets, and even more clothing options cover every inch of Mor’s bedroom. It’s all so…intimidating. I’ve been on dates before, but none of those guys were ever worth half the effort I’m putting in for Azriel. Which is probably why I’m freaking out more than normal. 

As I lay out the dress on Mor’s bed my ears finally pick up what Feyre is joyously rambling about. “And then Gavin just backed off. I have never him seen him humbled so fast Mor, oh my gods. It was hilarious.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It was refreshing to see Gavin put in his place. Especially by someone like Azriel. 

I circle the bed eyeing my endless options for dresses. My attention lands on one of Feyre’s black velvet cocktail dresses. It has a corset type bodice with tank top straps and a pleated skirt. It’s perfect. 

Picking it up I break out into a wide grin. Feyre and Mor notice looking at me like proud parents. “What?” I ask with a slight giggle. “It’s just…you’re going on a real date. With a real man. I just feel so proud.” Mor squeaked out, wiping away fake tears. 

I shake my head letting out a shaky sigh. “I like this one, can I wear it, Fey?” “Of course babe. This is going to look amazing on you.” She starts gathering the other dresses as Mor begins to look for shoes to match. Sitting me on the bed Feyre grabs my face and purses her lips in thought. “How do you feel about a very light Smokey eye?” 

A knock on the front door - approximately two hours later - breaks my focus from applying mascara. “I’ll get it!” Mor yells from the living room. Just a few more strokes and I’ll be done. My hand shakes from anticipation. Maybe if I take longer he’ll get impatient and I won’t have to go. 

No, don’t think like that. I deserve a nice date. I shake my body and check myself over in the mirror one last time. I look hot thanks to my best friends' combined effort. “Ok,” I whisper. 

Heading out to the living room I can hear Mor and Feyre talking with him. Gods, I hope they’re avoiding embarrassing topics. When I round the corner my steps stutter. It’s not Azriel in the living room. It’s one of the males he brought into the gallery. The larger one of the two who winked at me. “There she is!” Mor said in a sing-song voice. 

I walk forward and the male reaches his hand out for me to shake. “Hi y/n, I’m Cassian.” I take his hand, his calluses are rough against my palm as I shake his hand. “Hi, I remember you from the gallery. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Azriel?” I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask but I don’t want Cassian to feel like I’m not trusting him or his boss. Cassian smiles at me. “He’s already at the restaurant, he just sent me to pick you up.” I nod and say goodbye to Mor and Feyre before they push me out the door. 

Cassian opens the car door for me, taking my hand to help me up into the high SUV. I thank him before he shuts the door. The ride over to the restaurant was fast and quiet. I think Cassian could tell I’m nervous. When we pull up I notice the small parking lot was oddly empty. 

I audibly swallow, staring out the window at the front door. Cassian opens the door smiling at me with a boyish grin. “Cassian, can I ask you something?” “Sure thing.” Concern flashes across his face. The scar above his brow crinkling in. “I just…is he…” I can’t find the right words to ask my question correctly. Cassian seemed to pull himself up straighter. “I know you know his job but he’s not cruel. Azriel can be guarded at first but I think you’ll get through to him easily. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He smiles at me again, squeezing my hand in encouragement. I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “You’ve only seen me twice.” “That’s all I need. I know my brother.” 

I nod and take Cassian’s hand again to step out of the car and he ushers me into the restaurant. As I look around I notice the dining room is empty. Most of the tables look like they have been cleared out so a special table could be set up in the middle of the room. Azriel is speaking to the chef and a male I assume is the owner. 

Cassian clears his throat behind me to get Azriel’s attention. When he turns it feels like all the air has been sucked from my lungs. My heart flutters at the bright smile he gives me. His hazel eyes light up as they look me up and down. I finally start breathing again when he stops in front of me. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating. The warm vanilla tones mixed with a light spice fills my nostrils. It’s comforting and makes me want to curl up next to him to breathe it in more. 

Azriel takes my hands in his large scarred ones, bringing them up to his lips to press light kisses across my knuckles. I didn't notice the scars marring them before. They were beautiful. Like a torrent, restless ocean. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.” A blush heats my cheeks, a small smile appearing on my lips from his compliment. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.” 

He drops my hands holding his arm out for me to take like he did in the gallery two days ago. Azriel continues being the gentleman that he is and pulls my seat out for me, pushing me back in, and listens to my answers when he asks me about myself. When it was my turn I asked about his childhood, which seemed to be quite normal given the amount of money his family has. I also couldn’t help but ask why the restaurant was empty.

Azriel sheepishly smiled, looking at his entree for a moment before admitting he bought the place out for the night. “I prefer first dates to be more…intimate, if you will.” I let out a hum, “So you do this for all the girls.” I joke. Azriel looked panicked for a moment. “No,” he got out quickly, “This is, you’re the first one I’ve ever done this for actually.” His voice getting quieter at the end.

My heart leaps at the confession. No one has ever put that much thought into a date with me before and I told him how much I appreciate this.  

“So, how did you get into art?” He asks over dessert. A delicoius crème brûlée with a perfect golden brown sugar coating. I break it with my spoon as I think about how to phrase my answer. "I've always loved art no matter what form it comes in. Paintings, sculpture, digital, all that stuff. I like that people appreciate something pretty or one of a kind, so if I can help them get their hands on it, it makes me happy."

I look at him, shoveling the sweet creamy treat in my mouth. Azriel smiles at me adoringly. Those hazel eyes twinkling with what I'd like to think is love. "That's amazing. Besides the two I got, how many paintings have you sold?" I let out a short, cold laugh thinking about how pissed Gavin was that I made a sale. "You were my first customer. and probably my last. As I know you heard my boss say I'm just an intern. I really should've called him but it was the end of the day so what was the harm."

Azriel shook his head. A dissaproving look takes over his beautiful face as he remembers the scene he walked in on yesterday. "I was ready to punch him." Azriel admits. "He had no right to talk to you like that. But I must say, you were a natural my dear. I probably wouldn't have bought the paintings wihtout your knowledge on them."

"Thank you." I say surprised that soemone didn't find my knowledge about art annoying.

When we finished the chef came out to say goodbye along with the owner. Azriel offered me his arm again but I took a chance twinning my fingers through his. We glance down at our joined hands. I smile lightly at the comfort I feel when I hold it. Azriel looks shocked that I would even go near his hands. "Is this ok?" I ask softly. He seems at a loss for words just nodding and staring at me like a boy realizing he has a crush for the first time.

The whole car ride back to my apartment Azriel doesn't let go of my hand. I rest them on my lap and gently rub my thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. When Cassian comes to stop in front of my apartment my heart sinks. I don't want Azriel to go. I'm not ready for tonight to be over.

"I got it Cass." Azriel says before Cassian can unbuckle. He leads me up the short steps, stopping on the landing. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Feyre and Mor crouched down on the couch. Their eyes just peeking over the window sill. Ignoring them I turn my attention back to Azriel who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we left the restaurant.

He slips his other hand in mine pulling me slightly closer to him. “I had a wonderful time with you. And I really want to see you again.” Without hesitation I say yes, “I’d love to.” Azriel’s smile seemed to get wider. I must say, he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like. Not knowing how to say goodbye we stumble over our words for a moment until Azriel’s expression became serious. His face mere inches from mine now. “Can I kiss you, y/n.” Something about my name on his lips just seemed so right. “Yes,” I whisper.

Azriel’s lips are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The kiss is soft yet passionate and full of a desire I don’t think either of us would be able to sate. Pulling away for air I feel Azriel’s hands slip down my neck and pull away from my body. I hadn’t realized he was holding me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I nod, speechless. The air once again sucked from my lungs.

I slowly open the front door giving him a small wave before shutting it. Leaning against the wood I listen for his graceful retreating footsteps, the car door, and the engine as Cassian takes off down the street.

My heart won’t stop pounding. I rest a hand over my chest, a stupid smile on my lips as I’m off in my own fantasy world.

tags (accounts I couldn’t tag in bold): @amara-moonlight @harrystylesfan2686 @kalulakunundrum @thinkingofmatthewfairchild @just-a-social-casualty-1 @insecuritieeseatmealive @teenageeggscissorslawyer @theladystardust @thehighladywrites @callmeblaire @luell1q @meshellexplosionmurder @verena9003 @starsinyoureyes @mich0731 @yourfutur3lov3r @samanthalynn13 @enchantedatheart

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel au #acotar azriel #azriel

[princesssmars]

another one of my dreams that i have to write out because it flabbergasted me and two of my friends. but this time about hazel from bottoms.

ok, reader is the new girl at school. in my dream i was kind of a loser (accurate) but because i can write what i want (and i've read @ptolemaeacles cheerleader headcanons ten times) im changing it.

so reader is trying out to be cheerleader! it helps you make a few friends, isabel being the best one because she’s amazing, beautiful, and a little weird in a really endearing way. she finds you interesting, given your natural talent for dancing and how despite doing vulgar dance moves on the football field, off of it you can be a shy and sweet person!

because of this isabel, brittany and you are pretty much always together. and since they're popular and seen everywhere, that means you are seen everywhere!

which means hazel cant take a fucking break.

walking to sit with pj and josie during lunch and means almost having a heart attack when she sees you handing out flyers for the next school event, looking so ethereal in your cheer uniform she nearly trips over herself.

or when every morning she sits two rows over from you in math class, not so sneakily staring at you for minutes at a time while doing her worksheets.

despite being close to a genius, she thinks there's no way in hell you have ever noticed her. never seen the way your eyes will drift to her when she's sitting in the bleachers while, you're practicing, how you're heart will race when the teacher is calling names for project partners with the chance that the brunette could be in your group.

so sure you had a crush that was going nowhere, but you had a nice bunch of new friends, so people we're starting to like you!

all except one.

mrs. fucking barnes.

for whatever reason, your second period english teacher had decided on your first day to make your senior year a living fucking hell.

put a good amount of effort into an essay? you get a d minus!

want to share a comment you had about the book the class is reading? shut up silly, jeff is going to popcorn read and stutter over a basic sentence!

but one friday, you decided to skip class and the next week she went ballistic.

now, since moving to town, you had noticed that the people here were a little odd, regularly seeing a normal interaction or conversation go to the extreme in seconds.

so, when you're hovering over the toilet in the girls bathroom, a small thought in your brain that loves to say what if's asks: what if somebody bursted in here right now?

when you finish and stand up to pull your jeans up, only to be interrupted when the stall doors bust open with a loud bang! you think for split second that god can literally hear your thoughts and is making you pay for whatever sins you've committed.

those sins must have been fucking murder to make up for how mortified you felt standing in a cramped girls bathroom stall, your pants down with three people staring at you/

the first, mrs. barnes, wearing a look thats a mix between anger and regret.

the second is nettie brown, a girl you recognized from your art class who you remember complimented your heels and you did the same for her coat.'

and then, standing in front the sinks with eyes that look as big as fucking saucers, hazel callahan herself.

your brain catches up to your body and you manage to splutter out a string of curses and yells, forcing the door back closed as the teachers splutters out an excuse about someone telling her you had started doing weed in the bathrooms.

you hear her and some more shoes shuffling out of the bathroom, taking a minute to gather your bearings before you leave the bathroom. when you open the door again you rest your hands on the counter, your eyes closed as you take a breath. when you look up to your reflection, in your peripheral you see a figure standing awkwardly at the back of the bathroom, blue eyes avoiding looking at you.

"hazel?" you ask under your breath, turning around to look at her dead on. she flinches to attention like a child called to attention.

"uh...i just wanted to make sure that you were alright, what she did was really fucked up."

"oh," you mouth, grateful that after something so embarrassing this girl who you barely knew was waiting in a crappy bathroom to make sure you were alright. if it was possible your crush on her just grows. "thank you. that means a lot to me."

her face lights up so brightly you think it could light up a city.

"no problem! i mean, really who cares that much about weed, anyway? i've never cared about bush anyway-"

the room gets silent.

as she quickly rushes out an apology and leaves, all you can think about is how its weird you've been shocked like this twice in a span of ten minutes, and that you have got to ask hazel callahan on a date.

i made this a lot cuter than it was in my dream. i was in the bathroom, looking at these really nice coats on the counter ?? when the door opened, hazel just said "y'know ive never minded bush" and the sheer confusion made wake up.

i put my senior year english teacher in here because. i still hate that bitch.

#bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #bottoms x reader #hazel #hazel callahan #hazel x reader #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you

[willyoubemycherryy]

➯imagine being Thomas Webb’s pretty shameless neighbor❣︎#𝟙 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

❥𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 ⚠︎︎MDNI⚠︎︎

ALSO: this is an x reader but I used my name Dollette Watson ie. Doll/D.W for short (my mom was born in the 60’s can u tell?) just because I think the constant y/n is annoying if u want me to change it lmk and I will♥︎

“𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛’ 𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑜 𝑃𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑖．．“

When you first moved in, you actually hadn’t seen him at all for almost 3 weeks.

Between settling in, moving your stuff together, job hunting, and being somewhat social, it wasn't until things slowed down a bit that you finally did see him and damn, did you see him.

You had just walked through your buildings door. Tired from work and the tight ass “uniform”, which was nothing more than a button up top with a tiny pinstripe skirt. Huffing in irritation you ready yourself for the trek up the stairs in goddamn heels, when you notice feet and the man attached to them blocking your way.

Raising an eyebrow, you wait a beat for him to move until you realize that he was wearing headphones.

You walk closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly kissing and watch the exact moment he snaps back to planet earth. Startling as he looks up at you.

You were suddenly grateful he had headphones on when you gasped because nothing could have prepared you for someone so attractive.

He was undeniably the finest man you have ever seen in your life, period.

Pretty cut brown hair, thoughtful baby blues behind smart framed glasses that brought attention to his high ruddy cheekbones, and god his nose. You have to blink away the graphic image of how good said nose would feel grinding against your clit before the present dull throb in your core turns into full blown pulsating.

Your efforts don’t matter because it’s game over for you once you drop your eyes to his lips. They were just so…full. Deep pink n plush, that line down the middle of his bottom lip was doing something to you.

You don’t even care if he notices you checking him out. In fact, you want him to. Because you were going to have him one way or another and have a real fun time with it too.

So, you watch his eyes flit to the hem of your shamelessly short skirt before trailing them down your legs, all the way to your heels. Enjoying the heat that his gaze alone lights in you.

Unfortunately, you are tired so playtime will have to wait.

Clearing your throat, you give him a cheeky smile, “Going up? Or are you waiting down here forever?” Tone teasing as you walk up the first two stairs to stand beside him. He watches your every move almost devotedly.

“No, I’m going up. I mean- I live here so that’s…yeah. I was just lost in thought.” His voice is deeper than you thought it’d be as he stumbles a bit through his answer and the raspiness in it makes you want to whine.

But wait.

“You live here too? Because I moved in a few weeks ago actually.” You tell him and he nods.

“Yeah? weird I’ve never seen you around the building though.” you laugh as you definitely would have remembered seeing him.

“That’s probably because you’re obviously a busy guy. Lost in thought in the middle of the stairs. Does this thought have a name?” Smiling, you prod him juuust a little, to gauge if he’s single. He smiles with you and it’s cute. Lightly shaking his head before he suddenly stands.

Fuck you upside down in a full Nelson he’s tall.

“Busy is the last thing I am. The name was Mimi. I’m just the friend that never made it to boyfriend, but I’ll get out of your way…?” He pauses as he waits for your name.

“DW. Dollette Watson. But for what it’s worth,” you hesitate before deciding to just go for it,

“I’m positive you’re the type to talk someone through it so it’s her loss entirely. Try not to sulk too much...?” You know you’re being bold. Innuendo all in your voice but he’s so hot you truly can’t help it. Thanks to his height and close proximity, you have to look up to make eye contact which is hard because of the way you’re trying not to stare at his full lips. And he smelled so good.

“Thomas, Webb. But thank you.” His voice is lower as he looks down at you with hooded eyes and the urge to devour his mouth hits you hard. But, you just walk up the steps until you can look down at him and turn to face him.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you but…if you ever want to get busy, come to 5b. I’m sure we could find something interesting to do”. You aren’t teasing this time. You mean business. Leaning in to whisper so close to his face that you can smell his chapstick. His eyes widen before they drop and you actually do whine as he bites his lip and comes closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Until next time though. Bye Thomas.” You can’t resist and lean forward to nip his bottom lip. His light throaty groan sends warmth all over your body as it tapers into a soft “fuck”.

“Bye Doll”, Thomas mutters after you pull away, briefly noticing how his ears and neck have reddened, before you start walking up to your place.

Oh, he’s going to be fun. You think, feeling his eyes on you while you walk up until you’re out of sight.

Smirking, you hope he saw your panties…and how soaked they were.

#callum turner #thomas webb #the only living boy in new york #the only man ever #callum turner x reader #thomas webb x reader #masters of the air #mota #dont like it? go tell the church #fluff #smut #BREAKING NEWS: there will be wh*res in this house #🎀pretty neighbor series🎀

[lemonlover1110]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Just Toji being an ass and regretting it, Satisfactory ending if you're against Toji

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji often remembers the night he left you. You were six months pregnant with your daughter, and he decided that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. He was in love with someone else, so he left you. Guilt eats him alive ever since.

Three years later, every time he sees his daughter, he wants to cry. Mainly because he wasn’t in love with someone else. He just mistook the love for attention as actual love. You just started to focus so much on your pregnancy that you didn’t pay as much attention to him. She gave him that.

Now, every second of every day, he regrets it. You’re so stunning. So kind. So attentive. An amazing mother. Every time he sees you, he falls more in love. And he’s thinking of winning you back, yet he doesn’t have the courage to. He knows better. 

You’re civil with him, but that’s because of your daughter. He knows you hate him. Because of him you ended up in the hospital, nearly losing the baby you’ve always dreamt of having. He showed up to your labor with his new girlfriend, and the first few times refused to visit unless she was allowed to come with. He’s caused you so much pain.

“Daddy!” He hears, and he watches his three-year-old daughter run to him. He stands up from his chair and crouches down to open his arms and receive his daughter with a warm hug. When she’s in his arms, he kisses the temple of her forehead. 

“My princess, how are you?” He asks, picking her up from the ground. He focuses on her, before he notices you. You wear a cute flowy dress that shows your cleavage a bit, some wedges, and a bit of makeup. It makes him fall in love all over again. 

You give him a weak, insincere smile before you take a seat. You usually meet up at this café to drop off your daughter, solely because there’s a playground which your daughter loves. And you two sit together, awkwardly, watching as she enjoys her play time. She never gets bored of it.

Toji helps her take off her shoes before she goes to play. When Toji takes a seat across from you, he thinks of what to say. You don’t bother to look at him, watching your daughter. 

“How’s life treating you?” He speaks up, which makes you look back at him. You shrug. He feels as his heart skips a beat, thinking about bringing up the idea of rekindling your relationship. He taps his pointer finger on the table before he clears his throat,

“Have you ever thought of… Getting back together?” He questions, making you raise an eyebrow. “For our daughter… I’m asking for our daughter.”

“Not really.” You respond. “You left while I was pregnant, so why would you care now? You’re unreliable.”

“I’ve changed, y’know…” He brings up. Maybe he wasn’t the best father with Megumi, but he sure is trying with his daughter. He’s changed so much ever since she was born.

“That’s nice to know, Toji.” You answer. You don’t care to entertain the subject, focusing back on your daughter. “I’m seeing someone too.”

“What–” Toji replies. He finds his cheeks turning pink due to embarrassment. “I hope all goes well.”

“He treats me better than you ever did.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji imagine #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji zenin #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji angst #toji x you #dilf toji

[harveyguillensource]

Harvey's full feature and photoshoot with Robert Ascroft for IRK Magazine has been published, including a fantastic interview ranging from fashion to Shadows to 'letting in' and wishes come true. Some excerpts below:

On Letting In and identity as a home:

Remember that there's no ticking time bomb. Especially with what's been happening lately where a lot of actors who are portraying certain characters and their sexuality might be questioned, and they are outed, or they are forced to come out before, um, they are comfortable doing so. Everyone's sexuality, actors, everyone included, is their business. It's no one's business. It's their business. For people to want to know or to negate us, why don't you tell us? Why are you not telling us? Why are you hiding it? Why can't you just tell us? Tell us right now.

Forcing someone to come out... And I hate that term, too, COMING OUT. Because we know what we are, it's not the first thing they woke up that day and realized, oh, my gosh, I'm gonna tell everyone today. Everyone who knows that they are gay or that they are queer has been thinking about it. Believe me, it has been on their mind. They have thought about it. They have talked about it to themselves in the mirror. It is not new to them. And so for the idea for someone to come out is always kind of, kind of, uh, a little upsetting to me. I don't think it should be coming out. It should be called LETTING YOU IN. Because I already know who I am at that point when I share this information. They already know who they are when they share this information with you. Coming out is never really for the person. It's for the people who are surrounding them. Coming out is always for the person who wants to know. [...]

Coming out is always for the parent who is questioning you and just wants to have peace of mind. Coming out was for you to feel that you are still loved in this phase of your life or this new revelation. And it should not be called coming out. It should be called letting you in. And what you do with that information is up to the par- eh, the person who just discovered. That they let you in, and what you do once... It's like welcoming someone to someone's home: please don't destroy my home. I opened the door, and I stepped right, and you stepped right in. And it's up to the person who's my guest to either wipe their shoes, be cautious of the frames, or be careful of the furniture. Please don't, you know, jump around and destroy the home I had made. It's usually... What happens is you may let people into your homes that they trusted, and it turns out these people have no respect for your home, and they make a mess out of it.

[...] I knew that I was different and that people knew I was different. But also, as a child, that makes you go back in. It goes back into your home, closing that door and looking out the window. Cautiously, I look through the curtain, ensuring no one notices the vibrant colors inside. And no one's seeing that you put up wallpaper and that you're considering changing the tapestry, but always looking out the window. Cautiously looking out the window, ensuring no one's ever too close to the door. Eventually, you get comfortable enough to open that door and let people in.

On the evolution of Guillermo's fashion:

I do fall into the character when I am dressed for the part of Guillermo. Our fantastic costume designer, Laura Montgomery, who won the Emmy for our show's costume design, is incredible at her job. We sit down and talk about the season's arc and where we want this character to go. Guillermo wears these 1980s oversized sweaters that you can find at a thrift store. But the character is obviously more layered than that. The detail in the costume is so specific. Have you noticed his outfits from season one, where his collared shirt is buttoned up to the top, and then he puts a sweater over, and it's a long sleeve? [...]

He started off not showing any skin. Dressed a little bit frumpy and a little bit oversized on him. He wears khaki pants or brown pants and comfortable shoes. He does his hair to a specific look that he's trying to emulate because he thinks that's what a person of his position should look like. It's always what he thinks people expect from him. And it's not until he finds his own inner self of who he really is, so the essence of who Guillermo is, where he finds out that Van Helsing blood runs through his veins, that he starts getting a little comfortable in his skin, and we start seeing a little more of a fitted look. We see him with the fitted blue vest when he finds that out. He wears a thin, pinstriped white shirt that he unbuttons the top, so the collars are a little looser. He rolls up the sleeves, but he wears some brown gloves for grip to get those wooden stakes quickly.

So all those things are thought out, even the tucking in of the green cargo pants into his boots to make it easier and not to get tangled in anything in a quick escape. That trench coat that flares out so beautifully, we talked to Laura about that, that he needs to feel that he could easily take several weapons out of there without anyone questioning it because you never see it. The coat flares out with an excellent movement to it. You'll see it in the "The Night Market" episode where he fights other familiars. His coat is beautifully flared out, making him such a badass. Then, when he finally takes that off, he's a badass himself. That look was more fitted to my body, making the character look more fit and in shape. In some ways, whatever size you are, fitted clothes always look better on everyone. [...]

In season four, we see Guillermo be the best man to Nandor and help him choose wives that come back to life as the right wife for him to marry and stick to her. And after doing that and being the best man at his wedding, he wears a different outfit than we usually see him. He wears, like, this cream turtleneck with a moss green tailored suit, uh, that's really nice and compliments my skin tone. And that was Laura and I talking and looking at sketches and the materials and what's soft on Guillermo and what would be another, wink of wow, he has a little bit of fashion sense there. It's just that he's never felt comfortable in his own skin.

Sometimes, I think people are too scared and timid to risk wearing something that they might say, "I liked wearing that." But they don't take the risk, and so they're like, "Nah, that's fine. I'll just stick to the norm everyone knows me to wear." It's great for people to experiment with fashion.

On fashion, accessibility, and taking risks:

[...] I mean, for so long, you know, people always ask me, "Who's your stylist?" Or "Who dresses you?" For the longest time, for a majority of events and stuff, I dress myself. Uh, because for a long time, nobody wanted to, or not that they didn't want to. I feel they didn't know where to start to dress a person of size. Designers carry sample sizes.

For people of size, it's easy to feel that fashion is not for them, but that's not true, fashion is for everyone. It should be made and accessible to everyone. Especially when you look at the body and shape and sizes of most people worldwide, specifically in America, it makes sense to be represented in Fashion Week. And when it's not, it's a little upsetting because it's like they're no different than someone who is a size zero, size four, size... It doesn't matter. They're the same. You know, the same money. The same person who likes fashion could be of any size. [...]

I don't think anyone's gonna be on their deathbed saying, "You know what I wish? I wish I would have taken less risk in this life." Said no one ever. You know (laughs)?

I'd instead look back and say, "Oh, my gosh. Do you believe I wore that?" You know what? Yeah, I do. Sometimes, we're amazed at the things that have happened in fashion. It becomes part of history. And so when you look at stuff, it's not the embarrassment of a fashion faux pas that maybe you have done. But for the most part, you were in a time, and it was captured. That is everything down from your hair to your shoes, outfit, or even makeup if you're wearing makeup. It was like a time capsule, and it was captured in that moment. And so if you don't take a risk, you're not living in the moment. You're trying to fit into a time that has already passed or is already lived by someone else. So why not live in the moment so it's captured as a capsule for yourself and a moment in time.

On channeling his success into charity:

[...] In high school, I was looking for all these grants and scholarships for low-income Latino students in the arts and whatnot. I've been creating something where we can be of help to lower-income communities with kids who have an interest in the arts. Because that's the first thing we know: when budgets get cut in schools, especially in public schools, the first thing that gets cut is the art (not sports) but the arts. These kids have no other outlets. So there needs to be an outlet then how is there a possibility for a career or a life in the entertainment industry. Even if it's, you know, the first-ever scholarship, or like the Harvey Guillén-like scholarship, for young up-and-coming artists. Something that would help because I know that going through college was such a burden of thinking, "I don't have a trust fund.

#harvey guillén #harvey guillen #robert ascroft #irk magazine #wwdits #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #interviews #articles #photoshoots #plus size model #leather jacket #knit top #fashion #november 2023 #cw: cigarette

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Time for the March Summary!

First of, the egg that haunts my dreams,

Richarlyson

For the 3rd month in a row, with 13/62 polls won last month, Richas has been voted most likely to:

Eat a random nut/berry/bug he found outside

Aim for the head during dodgeball

Intentionally cough/sneeze on someone while sick

Pick up something gross and chase his siblings around with it

Play computer games in class instead of doing his school work

Play football indoors and accidentally break a family relic

Play Julius Ceasar in a recreation of the Ides of March

Love a cursed food combination

Hunt down islanders that aren't wearing green on St. Patrick's Day

Pretend to be possessed to scare a sibling/parent

Refuse to wear shoes, even in the woods

Be the Rico (Penguins of Madagascar) of the island

Be covered in band-aids all the time

I do not know how he managed to win this many without me noticing. I think he's stealing trophies from me when I'm not looking.

Dapper

Wait, what? Even I wasn't expecting our favorite literal-demon child to win 2nd! With 11/62 polls won, Dapper has been voted most likely to:

Read Wikipedia articles for fun

Berate adults for coughing into their hand

Be a "Home Alone" protagonist

Love "Doctor Who"

Read Homestuck

Make a recreation of the Ides of March

Actually catch a leprechaun on Saint Patrick's Day

NOT have to sing the alphabet song to remember what order the letters are in

Love the Sherlock Holmes books

Know everything about demon folklore and scare everyone with their knowledge of it

Be determined to find every single easter egg at the island-wide easter egg hunt

She's a nerd, what else is there to say?

Chayanne & Pepito

Tied for 3rd, with 6/62 polls won each! Chayanne has been voted most likely to:

Love Hockey

Hyperfixate on the Percy Jackson series

Be a try-hard in P.E. class

Start a game of King Of The Hill everytime the school replaces the woodchips at recess

Fight with a teacher over a test grade

Sleep through fasting all day

Only look for the difficult to find eggs so their younger siblings can have fun at the Easter egg hunt

And Pepito has been voted most likely to:

Lose every round of Hide N' Seek because Pepito can't stop giggling

Believe in the Tooth Fairy

Chase Pepito's own tail

Still not know how to swim

Actually break a leg during a school play on accident

Eat paper because Pepito thinks it tastes good

One of the oldest eggs tying with one of the youngest. It's perfect.

Sunny

With 5/62 polls won, I'm sure Sunny is a little miffed that she's ended up in 4th. But it's okay, you all are sure to put her in 1st place one of these months. Sunny has been voted most likely to:

Secretly paint their closet an obnoxious color

Have a fashion show using her parents' clothes

Sleep with all of their stuffed animals so they don't get lonely

Treat the masjid shoe racks as their own personal shoe store

Have an imaginary friend

Tallulah, Ramón, & Pomme

Tying for 5th, with 4/62 polls won each, I'm very happy to see Pomme winning her first ever polls! And a total of 4 of them, no less! Tallulah has been voted most likely to:

Try and dye her own hair (making a huge mess)

Fit the main character role in "Coraline"

Perform Tarot card readings

Catch bees to pet them

Ramón has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with cowboys and the Wild West

Race to recalibrate the SmartBoard at school

Set up an elaborate rube goldberg machine to suprise a parent for their birthday

Have a space hyperfixation and want to be an astronaut

And Pomme has been voted most likely to:

Be a monster at PaintBall

Hyperfixate on Splatoon

Be very meticulous while coloring in a coloring book

Write a book

I think there's a pattern with that last one.

Leonarda

With 3/62 polls won, Leonarda has been voted most likely to:

Be obsessed with Power Rangers

Be into ice skating

Read every single Warrior cats books

I don't have anything funny to say here, It's hard to pay attention while listening to Ze Frank talk about coral kkkkkkkk

Empanada

With 2/62 polls won, Empanada has been voted most likely to:

Spend recess burying herself in woodchips and sleeping

Have Batik as a hobby

Oh hey, it's the first time Empanada's gone a full month without winning a poll about sweets!

Chunsik

Finally, our youngest has won a poll! With 1/62 polls won, Chunsik has been voted most likely to:

Be exempt from a Federation experiment because he politely declines it

What a polite kid!

...

...

That's it, right? That's all the eggs. All 11 eggs, all 62 polls for the month of March

...

Why does my clipboard say I'm missing two polls.....

...

Oh! Yes!

Juanaflippa & Bobby

In an absolutely unprecedented event, Juanaflippa AND Bobby have become our first ever dead eggs to win a canonical poll, with 1/62 win each! Juanaflippa has been voted most likely to:

Have a million allergies during the spring

And Bobby has been voted most likely to:

Get BANNED from playing Bulldog

It's still insane to me that you all managed to get these two a win. Bobby was going up against RICHARLYSON for void's sake. You all were fighting against the current on that one.

See you all soon!

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp Chayanne #qsmp Tallulah #qsmp dapper #qsmp ramón #qsmp leonarda #qsmp Richarlyson #qsmp pomme #qsmp pepito #qsmp Empanada #qsmp sunny #qsmp sunnysideup #qsmp chunsik #qsmp bobby #qsmp juanaflippa #not a poll #month recap

[delilahcalicocat]

Can i request a Cody Rhodes x reader where reader gets attacked by a WWE worker while entering Cody's bus but Pharaoh saves her by attacking the worker. Reader then tries to hide it from Cody but he finds out from the medical team who treated reader, Cody then goes after that worker.

A/N: Of course! Thank you for asking! <3

💙~No One messes with her~❤️

{Rating: Fluff}

{Warnings: Crying, Mentions of blood, Harassment, Fighting, Injury, Panic, Dog attacks, Biting}

{Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader}

RAW had just ended, you snuck away to get back to Cody's bus to slip out of your uncomfortable heels

Cody was always very worried about you, he didn't notice you'd left until Jey caught on to it.

You went to climb the bus stairs, until someone's hand gripped your ankle.

Your heart sank to your stomach when you saw it was Axel, the weirdest WWE Crew Member ever.

He was always obsessed with you no matter how much you said you weren't interested.

He cut your arm with a knife he had, you were panicked.

You thought of how to escape this, you truly thought this was how you'd die.

Until you remembered the bus door was open.

You looked towards the door and shouted

"Pharaoh!" As you finished the sentence, the big white dog rushed towards the man you'd been attacked by.

The dog bit the man a couple times until he ran off.

You patted Pharaoh on the head and put him back in the bus.

By the time you'd gotten Pharaoh back in the bus for safety, Jey Uso and Sami Zayn had found you.

They immediately snuck you past the backstage party so Cody wouldn't notice and you'd be treated for your injury.

You'd been bleeding from the arm pretty decently by the time you were sat down to get help

After 20 stitches, you were allowed to leave the medical office.

You then went to Cody

"Hey! I'm back from the bathroom-" You spoke

"Uh.. Y/N, why are you wearing your thick sweater? Didn't you literally say it was too hot for it a couple hours ago?" He asked

"Oh.. I got a little cold from the Air conditioner on the way back" You lied

"Whatever- I'll be right back, I have to go check on Pharaoh-" He said

You tried not to panic but decided to stay there, Jey and Sami were right next to you. It was too dangerous to go back outside.

Meanwhile, Cody was headed towards the exit until a girl from medical caught his attention

"Uh, Mr.Rhodes! Your girlfriend Y/N got attacked, she received 20 stitches-" the girl spoke

"What. Y/N got fucking attacked?!" You heard his voice from down the hall

"Oh Shit, Y/N you should probably go-" Jey spoke

"Yeah, I'm gonna go.." You groaned running Down the hallway

You found Cody standing by the exit, fuming.

"Cody!" You spoke

"Y/N. Explain what the actual fuck happened." Cody Said

"Oh.. Cody, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I went to get my other shoes because my heels were killing my feet but instead I got attacked by That weird Crew member.. if it weren't for Pharaoh, I would've got hurt worse.." You spoke with tears welling in your eyes

"Axel.. Fucking attacked you, and you didn't tell me?" He questioned

"I was fucking panicked and this kind of shit scares me Codes.." You sighed

"It's fine. I'm just glad Pharaoh defended and saved you." Cody spoke

He walked you out to his bus and told you to stay there with Pharaoh.

You sat down, a million thoughts racing through your mind

Cody walked back inside the building

"Hey, Jey. You seen Axel round?" He asked

"I think I saw him go that way." Sami Said pointing towards the hall to Cody's left

"Thanks Sami." Cody said walking down said hall

It didn't take long to find Axel, Cody then started a fight with Axel.

Luckily Axel didn't have his knife, because it was taken from your arm by medical

Before Cody got pulled off Axel by Jey and You, Cody managed to give Axel a bloody nose.

"Jesus, Calm down man." Jey said

"No one messes with my girl." Cody said

"Ok I understand that, but you Finna bout to get in trouble Uce." Jey said

"Come on troublemaker, let's get back to the bus before anything else happens" you said, adjusting Cody's tie

#wwe fanfiction #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #wwe #cody rhodes #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes x reader

[lucy90712]

Only here to party- Pedri

Deciding to study abroad was a hard decision to make but I knew it was best for me to move off the island and broaden my horizons by moving to England. As much as studying abroad was a good idea studying biology has turned out to be a bad decision I barely have any free time I never get to go out and I can never come home as I am always so busy. However now that the year has come to an end and it's summer break I can finally go home for a couple months and boy am I ready to have the best summer ever. 

I am going to make this summer the best few months of my life I want to spend nearly every day with my friends and go out as much as possible. The entire summer is going to be about going out and having fun not a single mention of university and definitely no boys. I tried dating a guy at university but he cheated on me with multiple people one being one of my friends so unless I don't want to get involved with any boys. Heartbreak is not on my to do list and I've told my friends to not let me get attached and they will definitely stick to that as they can be harsh with me when they need to be.

After getting back yesterday tonight is our first girls night out and I couldn't be more excited. I've spent pretty much all day getting ready I woke up late as I was tried from my flight but after that I showered, washed my hair, shaved pretty much everything. It's been a long while since I got dressed up at all but I still have all of my dresses and nice makeup which are definitely going to get a lot of use these next few months. I was really feeling myself so I picked my absolute favourite dress I own it's a bit short and quite form fitting but I want to look and feel good so I don't really care what anyone else thinks about me. I'm not one for wearing much makeup but I decided to put on a bit more than I usually would as I was feeling adventurous. 

It took me a good while but once I was ready I got my shoes on and made my way to the club which is only just down the road from my place so I decided to walk. The rest of the girls live a bit further out so we agreed to meet at the club as they were all coming together. Just as I got to the club a taxi pulled up with all of my friends in, we hadn't seen each other since I left last summer so there was a lot of hugs and a lot of catching up we need to do. 

"You look gorgeous girl that post break up glow is making you look magical" one of my friends said 

"All the guys in the club are going to be looking at you" another added 

"Thank you guys you all look amazing too but remember I don't want to be involved with any new guy so if you see me getting too close with someone stop me" I said 

"You got it girl no men we won't let you get hurt again" my best friend said 

We headed into the club and I was dragged straight to the bar to get a drink or maybe two whatever it takes to get me slightly tipsy. I'm not here to get drunk out of my mind I just want to have some fun and enjoy my life as I haven't done that in nearly a year. It was clear very quickly that there was a lot of guys in the club were staring at me but I didn't take any notice some of them were cute but not cute enough for me to change the one rule I set for myself this summer. My friends however are not following the same rules as me so they all quickly ran off to find a guy that took their fancy. That left me alone but it didn't bother me I can handle myself as I'm used to doing that when I'm back in England. I decided to dance for a bit and found my best friend on the dance floor so we danced together for a bit but at some point she went to the bathroom and never came back but I saw her talking to some guy that was definitely her type so I left her be. 

Seeing as the group had broken apart I took myself back to the bar to just sit and watch over them all just to make sure nothing bad happened. As I was watching the dance floor I made eye contact with a guy who sent me a smile. He was very attractive exactly my type with his brown eyes and hair and his slight beard that somehow made his features stand out even more. I quickly realised I was staring at him and stopped myself because I could feel myself being drawn to him but I don't want to find someone to get attached to. He clearly noticed my staring as the next thing I knew he was taking a seat next to me at the bar and flashing that smile that drew my attention in the first place. 

"Hey I'm Pedro can I buy you a drink?" He asked 

"Sure I'm y/n by the way" I said 

He ordered another of what I had drunk before and a drink of his own and we were also given free food.

"You must be well known here to get free things" I joked

"Wait you don't recognise me" he said 

"No am I supposed to" I said 

"No it's just most people here seem to know who I am" he said 

"Well now I need to know I feel left out" I laughed 

"I'm a footballer for Barcelona and for Spain I go by a nickname though the name Pedri might be more familiar to you" he said 

"I have heard that name but I'm not into football sorry to bruise your ego" I said 

"I like it people who don't care who I am are much more fun to be around" he smiled 

We continued talking he asked about my life and once I told him I was studying in England there was a lot he wanted to know. I asked him a few questions about his life as it's not everyday you meet a footballer especially in Tenerife but he wanted to focus the conversation on me. It was quite clear that there was a connection between us and really to stick to my rules I should stop talking to him but I can't help myself. It would feel wrong to leave this here and not give Pedri a chance especially as both of us don't live in Tenerife so it's not like we could run into each other once I think I'm ready to date again. Sometimes our plans don't line up with what the universe has set out for us and I don't want to ruin something that could go somewhere even if we only end up as friends Pedri is a cool person to be friends with. 

One by one my friends came to find me and say they were leaving with whoever they had met leaving me with Pedri. So much for them stopping me from getting attached to someone but honestly I kind of appreciate it I definitely would've fought them if they tried to take me away from Pedri. Once we reached the early hours of the morning both of us wanted to go home Pedri offered to walk me home and I wasn't going to say no to spending more time with him so we walked down the road together. As we got to the door I was starting to wish I lived further from the club so I could spend more time with Pedri. 

"I know both of us won't be here for long so can I have your number I'd love to see you again before we both leave" he asked 

"Of course give me your phone and I'll put my number in" I said 

I did just that and once I had put my number in we said goodbye and Pedri promised he'd text me in the morning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

This summer has flown by I have been back home for 2 months but I leave again in a few days and I'm really sad about it. My summer has gone completely differently to how I imagined it would too I was expecting to spend time mostly with my friends out at the beach most days and then going out drinking on the weekends but I have done that like 3 times. I have seen my friends and spent time on the beach but I've spent more of my time with Pedri. When I told my friends about Pedri they weren't shocked that I broke my rule in fact they told me that they saw me with him and were going to drag me away but once they saw how happy I was they let me be. If it wasn't for them I probably wouldn't have spent as much time as I have with Pedri they were the ones to tell me to just go for it and see where things go as I won't get another chance like this and that turned out to be good advice.

Pedri and I have spent so much time together we've seen each other nearly every day and we text each other constantly. In the last month we have been on a few dates all of which have been amazing. Whenever we spend time with our friends they are always telling us to get a room as we are pretty much attached at the hip, Pedri has developed a habit of having his hand on my waist pretty much at all times which I'm not complaining about as I love it. Over the last two months I've really fallen for Pedri and I'd like to think he feels the same way the trouble is we both have to leave at some point and I don't know if things will be the same when we can't see each other all the time. 

Today is the last day Pedri and I can see each other has we both leave in a few days so we need some time to pack. He invited me to his for the day as he has a pool so we can swim together and just sit outside in the sun all day. Pedri wanted me to come over early so I had to drag myself out of bed and to his place but it was worth it as he had breakfast ready for both of us and he greeted me with a kiss which always makes my morning better. 

After having some breakfast we both got into swimwear and got into the pool. More often than not we don't really do any swimming we just float around in the water and today was no different. I leant against the side in the shallowest part of the pool as that's where I can touch the bottom and Pedri stood in front of me with his arms around my waist. His hair was wet but somehow he still looked incredible possibly better than he looks on any normal day which is saying something. We were just staring at each other sharing the odd kiss but I could tell Pedri was thinking about something he had the look in his eye that I've learnt means he's deep in thought considering something. 

"What are you thinking about?" I asked 

"Oh nothing just daydreaming" he said 

"I know that's a lie you have that thinking expression of yours tell me what's on your mind" I said 

"What's going to happen to us when we both leave?" He asked 

This is the question I have been thinking about myself and dreading having to answer. I don't want to end things with Pedri but is long distance going to work. I'm always so busy and I know he is too so will we even get to see each other and if we don't will we just fall out of love. There is so many questions and most of which we won't know the answer to unless we give things a try. 

"I don't know I really like you and I've enjoyed these last two months more than the rest of the last year but we would have to be long distance" I said 

"I know it won't be easy but if you are willing to I'd love to try long distance I don't just want to let what we have go this feels special more than just a holiday romance" he said 

"If you're willing to give it a go then so am I but we need to communicate well and be ready not to see each other that often" I said 

"I will do anything to make this work we can FaceTime every night and any breaks we have we can visit each other we can make this work" he said 

"Then let's do it" I said 

"First though I have something I want to ask" he said 

"What's that" I questioned 

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked 

"I would love to" I replied leaning in to kiss him

#pedri imagines #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri #football imagine

[tsukishumai]

Love Galore

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader x bokuto koutsro

chapter summary: an introspective view of the story's events from the beginning — through the eyes of Akaashi Keiji

wc: 19.2k+ [jfc i really am so sorry]

a/n: thank you to those that have stuck by me and this story, despite my hiatus. i truly appreciate every single person that's ever read a single word of LG, or left lovely messages/comments, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. i worked on this chapter, little by little every day, and i promise i never stopped thinking about you guys. i kept thinking it was done, but apparently i had a lot to say haha. this still isn't the end, but please enjoy the chapter, i've worked really hard on it and i hope you like it :) your love and support mean the world to me, xoxo

Masterlist

chapter 14 ✧ souffle pancakes

Akaashi doesn’t say much, but he sees it all. 

It was a habit that he’s had for as long as he could remember, practically born with. Practically second nature, it seems, for him to keep a keen and sharp eye on his surroundings, making mental notes until it’s all piled up and cluttered into his brain. He’s been called many things in his short life. Observant. Perspective. Attentive. Psychic. Genius. Creepy. 

Akaashi prefers to just be called Keiji. 

Most of the time, he thinks it’s a blessing.  

When he was younger, he’d impress all the old ladies in his neighborhood with his mindless comments.

Have you lost weight?

That’s a new jacket isn’t it, oba-san?

Oh, that must be a different perfume you’re wearing today.

Comments that sounded adorable coming from a child, when all the others in his age range could barely notice if they were even wearing matching shoes. 

Sometimes, he’s thankful. It was what got him so far in the sport he loved, after all. His ability to see things others usually just brush to the side — how an opponent grits his teeth and flexes his jaw right before he jumps up for the spike, or the directions their eyes tend to flicker to right before they pass the ball. How the twitch of their lip meant anger and annoyance, or the restless running around the court showing impatience. 

Akaashi sees it all – each bit of information sorted into the compartments in his mind, saving it for when he needs to make his move. This wasn’t something inherent – it was a skill he only learned with time, through trials and errors until his mind became a well-oiled machine. Eventually, it’d become difficult for anyone to escape the sharpness of Akaashi’s eyes, and it’s a skill he’s always used to his own benefit. 

If that player’s angry, it will be easy to bait him. If he’s impatient, then it’s just a matter of time before he makes a mistake. And Akaashi will be right there waiting. 

It was easily applicable outside of the court as well.

In the hallways of school, he’d learned to ignore the giggles and whispers in his wake. Making friends was simple, almost effortless. An off-handed comment about someone’s new haircut, bringing his classmates snacks and drinks as if he had just accidentally bought too much at the convenience store – not a single person thinking twice at the fact that he’d miraculously gotten all their favorites. 

Akaashi was the guy that would notice if you were wearing different nail polish, or if the charms on your backpack were different, would note if you’ve started a new sport or were talking about that new drama just a little bit more often – and he’d say a something that could be compliment, with only a few words at best, but it was enough for you to note that he was paying attention. 

In his second year of junior high, he’d even become quite the hot topic among the girls in his class, because somehow he could always tell who had a crush on who. They’d flock around his desk like vultures, picking at whatever bits and scraps they could get from his carcass until he had no choice but to throw them a bone. 

If you get this bread for Yagi-kun, he’ll really like it. 

Arakawa-san told me he likes girls with short hair. 

Toku-san studies in the library on Wednesdays, you should bring him a drink.

The boys would try to act like they’re not interested in the commotion that always seemed to surround Akaashi. Gossip? That’s for the girls – not something for boys to partake in. But it was only a matter of time before they’d come running to Akaashi for a “psychic reading”, never wanting to admit that all they really wanted was a bit of guidance. 

They’d come running back to him, tittering and snickering whenever his advice would work. Suddenly, he was seen as a genius, a guru – as much as any preteen boy could actually be.

It was easy, really – a person’s body language can often tell you much more than words could ever manage to say, and Akaashi had always been an avid reader. He’d try to tell them as much, try to teach his friends what to look for and where, but alas the ability had still been dubbed a ‘gift’.

But sometimes, it can be a curse. 

For a long while, there were only two kinds of people in Akaashi’s life: those that wanted to use him for his talents, and those that seemed to resent him for it. 

It was actually comical how fast it is for some to turn their backs. Flipping around on him like a switch, taking all the brightness with them and leaving Akaashi alone in the dark. 

He had learned – the hard way – that most people actually quite hated the notion of being perceived. It strikes them with a sense of anxiety that was unfamiliar – not exactly fear, but something akin to uneasiness. The constant feeling of eyes on your back was enough to drive anyone crazy, even more so when you’re meant to be somewhere safe. 

It’s not as if Akaashi was doing it on purpose. Sometimes, he wasn’t even aware he was doing anything at all. He wasn’t watching anyone specifically, but was it his fault if certain things caught his attention? Was it wrong for him to be observant of his surroundings? His classmates were part of his environment, it was only natural for them to be part of his observations as well. It was nothing personal, it was just a habit.

It was difficult to explain as such when a boy from his class called him a stalker for knowing he was in the soccer club, because how else could Akaashi have known? He hardly knew Akaashi. Even though Akaashi pointed out the grass stains on his socks and the pair of cleats peeking out of his bag, the boy still threatened Akaashi to stay far away. 

It was even harder for him to calm the angry girl from two classes over – the one that happened to always eat at the lunch table next to his in the cafeteria. He froze when she stormed up to him, tossing a baby blue hair clip on his table. Steam was billowing out from her eyes, saying she’d only ever spoken a grand total of six words to him, so how the hell does he know her favorite color? Never mind the fact that her earrings, her phone case, her jacket, her thermos, and her bento are all that same color. It was an educated guess, one that was clearly correct if her angry reaction was enough to go by. 

It was frustrating, honestly. Did she even know how pathetic his own classmate looked, sniffing around Akaashi and asking how he should approach the cute girl from class 2-C? Was it really wrong for Akaashi to suggest getting her a hair clip in the same color? What difference did it make whether he figured out random stuff about her or not? 

But the scowl she threw in his direction had almost successfully masked the panic that swept through her eyes. But Akaashi had seen it. 

She was afraid. Of him.

She had called him names then, names he had heard before. Weirdo. Stalker. Creep. Names that never bothered him in the past, but coupled with the look of fright on this girl's face – whose favorite color he knew, but name remained foreign – all of it sounded much harsher than he ever remembered. Especially when she dumped the rest of her milk on the top of his head. 

After that incident, there was a sort of shift in public opinion on Akaashi. The whispers that followed him down the hall no longer mingled with soft giggles and smiles. They were whispers behind narrowed eyes and scowling faces, disapproving frowns upon any lips that would say his name.

Some friends stood by his side, half-heartedly defending him in a way that told him they didn’t actually care – they just wanted to stay on his good side. Nosy busybodies that only shielded him from the wary stares so they could keep asking him for his advice on whether he thought Dairiki-kun like girls with bangs or without.

It was one of the few times Akaashi had really, truly felt pathetic. His life was sitting in the sweaty palms of his peers, and a single wrong move will have him crushed by their grubby little fingers. It was infuriating, suffocating – having to think twice, thrice, four times before Akaashi could even say a single word. 

But they had already decided on the box they would put Akaashi in, and he could do nothing more than sit still. Sit still and ignore the sneers and scowls from people that he used to call friends. Stay quiet when the boys of his class would shove him around the halls calling him freak. Look the other way when he’d come back to his desk and his things were destroyed. Ignore the pang in his chest when he ate his lunches alone in the library. 

At the turn of his adolescence – his first year of high school – Akaashi decided that things needed to change. 

Fukurodani Academy was a different setting – different classes, different halls, different people.

He would be a different Akaashi Keiji. No longer putting himself out there, or offering his observations to anyone who would listen. He would just keep to himself, and not let anyone close enough to contain him again.

Then he met Bokuto Kotaro. 

The boy was simplistic in nature. Kind and bright, with a horde of people that always followed him around wherever he went. Dozens of eyes constantly tracked his every move without fail, and Bokuto happened to be the type of person that thrived in such an environment. Though, despite being interested in the same sport, Akaashi never felt the need to become a part of his entourage. He was exactly the kind of guy Akaashi wanted – needed –  to avoid. 

But some things are simply not up to him. Each morning, he managed to mask the slight surprise on his face each time he walked into the volleyball team’s gym, and found that Bokuto was already there. And had probably been there for who knows how long. When Akaashi joined this team, he fully expected to always be the first to show up, and last to leave the gym each day, just as it was at his previous school. 

Yet, there Bokuto was, every morning without fail, nothing but his grunts and the echoes of the ball spiking on the ground filling the gym. Every morning, he’d greet Akaashi with too much energy, the corners of his lips never dropping despite the fact that Akaashi never responded with anything other than a silent nod. 

For a little while, that was all they had. A silent agreement to work together on the sport they loved, to be a team on the court, and strictly teammates off of it. Nothing more, nothing less. Bokuto continued being his charming self, scoring victories and basking in adoration as he was wont to do. Akaashi stood content to the side, satisfied with the joy of knowing his serves were in the capable hands of such an ace. 

Akaashi should have known that it was only a matter of time until Bokuto would flip everything around. 

They had been alone in the gym for at least an hour at that time, while the rest of Fukurodani Volleyball Club had gone home at an actual reasonable hour. The sun was already slipping past the horizon, taking with it the last tendrils of the day’s light. Bokuto had begged Akaashi to stay a little longer and help with his spikes, as usual. And Akaashi was quick to agree, as usual. 

What was unusual was the way Bokuto kept glancing at Akaashi from the corner of his eye, and Akaashi wanted to laugh at Bokuto’s pathetic excuse of being discreet.

“What is it?” Akaashi asked, uncharacteristically breaking the silence. 

Bokuto jumped, startled that Akaashi noticed him watching. It took a second for Bokuto to gather himself, absentmindedly bouncing the volleyball on the gleaming gym floor, face scrunched in a way that Akaashi had only seen while Bokuto was on the court.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Bokuto opened with those words, bouncing the ball one last time before catching it tightly in his hands. Akaashi’s silence was the only indicator of an agreement, and Bokuto took this as his cue to continue. 

“Why do you hold back?” 

There were many things Akaashi thought Bokuto might have asked. This one wasn’t even really on the list. Akaashi had forgotten what it felt like to be caught so off guard, unable to do anything but stand stupidly as his mind buffered. Bokuto’s pupils moved imperceptibly quickly, raking themselves all over Akaashi. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Akaashi replied carefully, his shoulders rigid, nervously clasping his hands in front of him.

Bokuto frowned a little deeper, resting the volleyball now between his arm and his hip. “You don’t have to lie, Akaashi. I can tell you’re not… I see how you watch everything, but you always catch yourself before doing anything. It’s like you’re scared or… or – I don’t know! But you are, you’re holding back! I can just tell.”

It took all of Akaashi’s willpower not to let his jaw hang loose, only allowing himself to blink slowly. He dug through his mind, searching through every crevice for any memory of someone being able to read him like this. He went out of his way to be invisible, yet the overly cheerful, happy go lucky, sunshine ace of the volleyball team had somehow managed to still see right through him. 

“So why?” Bokuto prodded again, and his tone could easily be confused as haughty, but Akaashi knew better. Akaashi continues to study Bokuto, the poor boy fidgeting under Akaashi’s frigid stare. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t back away. His weight shifted from one foot to the other, but he still waited for an answer

“It’s a long story,” Akaashi said quietly, turning around to walk towards the volleyball cart. 

He hoped that would be the end of it, that Bokuto would take the hint and leave him alone. But before he could take more than three steps toward the cart, it clattered loudly and rolled away with the momentum of the volleyball that just landed into it from across the gym. 

Akaashi turns back to Bokuto, a single eyebrow raised incredulously at Bokuto’s now empty hands. A corner of Bokuto’s mouth lifts devilishly, and he offers Akaashi nothing but a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’ve got a bit of time,” Bokuto rests his hands on his hips, shifting all his weight onto one leg. Akaashi wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, and wanted to ask Bokuto why he even cared. He was happy with how things were right now, and there was no need for him to do anything drastic. 

Even as the thought passed through his mind, Akaashi could feel no truth behind it. And one look at Bokuto told him that he was not winning this round. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and heaved out a sigh.

“If I don’t hold myself back, then people tend to get intimidated,” Akaashi offered, and that was as much as he was willing to expand on at this moment. “And when people are scared of you… that’s when you find out how nasty they can actually be.” 

“So what? You’re scared?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi scoffed because of course he wouldn’t understand. Everyone loved Bokuto, and even those that didn’t still held some sort of respect for him. He was the ace of the volleyball team, and he was the school’s heartthrob. What the hell would he know about being shunned and isolated?

Akaashi opened his mouth to say something snarky, the words burning up his throat and on to the tip of his tongue. Except when his lips parted, it wasn’t his voice that came out.

“If you hold yourself back because of random, faceless people, then aren’t you letting them win?” Bokuto interrupted Akaashi before he could speak, as if he knew that if he let the setter say whatever he was about to say, then the conversation would take a dive into the worst. “I hate losing, Akaashi.”

“What does me losing have anything to do with you?” Akaashi asked.

“Because we’re partners now. I got your back, and if you lose, I lose,” Bokuto smiled this time, and Akaashi’s chest felt a little bit lighter, “Like I said, I hate losing. So don’t make me into a loser, okay? Or it’s gonna be a problem.”

Bokuto brushes past Akaashi as he finishes speaking, hands resting on the back of his head as he walks the distance across the gym and to the volleyball cart. Akaashi’s eyes followed him in awe, a sudden fluttering in his heart and stomach as the ace digs out a new volleyball and bounces it twice onto the hardwood floors.

“We’ve only done eighty serves,” Bokuto changes the topic seamlessly, continuing on as if he hadn’t rendered Akaashi speechless, “We gotta do at least twenty more before Yamiji-san comes back to kick us out.” 

Akaashi felt his feet move, his arms positioning themselves to receive, his body running around the gym until sweat dripped on the floor all around him. But his thoughts were elsewhere, plagued with memories of a past that had apparently silenced him into a pathetic existence. He’d thought this path would be better, make him feel like he belonged.

Maybe for a while, he convinced himself that it did, satisfied with existing as a shadow on the wall. He hadn’t anticipated Fukurodani's golden-eyed Adonis to shatter the illusion with so much ease, Akaashi wonders how he ever fooled himself into believing it in the first place. 

They didn’t say a single word to each other for the rest of their practice. Or on the walk home. Or at morning practice the next day. Bokuto didn’t speak to Akaashi until the middle of their afternoon practice, when Akaashi had received every single one of Konoha’s spikes and gave Bokuto elegant, risky serves that had everyone on the other side of the net scrambling on their feet. 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Bokuto exclaimed while pumping his fist, giving Akaashi a pat on the back that made the setter jerk forward two steps, “Keep that up, Akaashi!”

Akaashi rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side. That’s when he noticed the thumbs up Bokuto had thrown you from across the court, and the relieved smile you returned as you flipped the numbers on the scoreboard. You and Bokuto held each other’s gazes for a moment longer, and Akaashi felt like he’d eavesdropped on an entire conversation. 

You shivered slightly when Bokuto broke away, as if Akaashi’s icy stare washed over your entire body. Then you turned your head unnaturally quick and met Akaashi’s stare dead on, making him jolt. You offered him a small wave and half a grin, but before he could respond, Bokuto was dragging him back into the game. 

After practice, Akaashi found Bokuto waiting for him by the gates of the school. He flew into an immediate tirade about the bad grade he got on his exam, and how the cafeteria ran out of katsu before he could get there. You showed up in the middle of Bokuro’s story, and the three of you started walking in sync towards the direction of Akaashi’s house, your voice mingling with Bokuto’s as you offered your own tidbits of the day. Akaashi didn’t question how you both knew where he lived, or why he was suddenly flanked by the two chattiest students in Fukurodani. But if Akaashi had known that was how it would all begin, then he might have cherished that moment a little bit more. 

He never really spoke to you during his initial months in the club, which isn’t saying much as he didn’t speak to anyone. You were nice enough – always asked him how he was doing, berating the older ones whenever they’d give him a hard time, giving him reassuring smiles whenever he got scolded for messing up. The perfect example of a manager; your only fault being the nonsensical hearts in your eyes whenever they happened to land on Bokuto. 

You tried to hide it desperately, but there was no hiding the affection in your smiles whenever they were directed toward Bokuto. It was obvious, painfully so, and it bewildered Akaashi that Bokuto still had not noticed. He can at least assume Yukie and Kaori knew, if the worried glances they threw at each other behind your back were of any indication. But if they or anyone else on the team were aware of your feelings, they respected your efforts enough to keep their thoughts to themselves. 

He couldn’t blame you, not in the slightest. Not when Akaashi’s own heart skipped a beat or two during the night of that initial confrontation, and suddenly he himself was enamored by the ace – wanted to give him the best serves, set up the best plays, win him all the games. When Bokuto was on the court, then it was natural law of the universe for Akaashi to use every skill in his arsenal to make sure he shines. Akaashi did not choose for it to be this way, it simply is.

Perhaps that was how it was for you as well, Akaashi thought. Sometimes, the most painful part about love is having no choice, the complete loss of control. Akaashi could see it; the groan after each stolen glance, shaking him off when his hug made your face too hot,  how you would slap your cheeks whenever you caught yourself staring, like a desperate attempt to break yourself out of some wretched spell.

If Akaashi was being honest, he hated seeing you that way. It didn’t take long for you to become someone precious to him, maybe even quicker than it took for Bokuto. Bokuto infuriated Akaashi as easily as he amazed him, each day a toss up on whether he admired him or wanted to strangle him.

But you brought Akaashi comfort, and a sense of understanding he’d never experienced from a friend. Sure, technically it was your job to assist the team, but he could tell that everything you did truly came from your heart. You were kind and selfless, the type of person that would give someone the very shirt off your back but still spit venom at anyone that spoke ill of your friends. 

To have you in his corner, Akaashi couldn’t even begin to explain how much it saved him. He’d been drowning in the middle of an ocean, nearly overpowered by turbulent waves when Bokuto had given him a boat, and you’d given him an oar. As long as he remained with the two of you, then Akaashi thought he could get himself through it all. 

So whenever he would watch you watch Bokuto flex his muscles to the girls cheering in the stands during a game, watch you gripping your clipboard so hard your knuckles turned white, he may feel... a little bit more than annoyed. And whenever Bokuto would then openly flirt with some of those girls after the game, Akaashi could admit that he might even feel a little bit upset.

Because how could he not see the way you look at him, how you smile when he says your name, how you trail after him like a lovesick puppy? At this point, Akaashi’s been friends with the two of you for months, won and lost countless games, gone to training camps, spent more time with each other than with your own families. And the entire time, Akaashi had to work very hard to act like he didn’t notice your feelings. How could Bokuto still be so ignorant? 

It really bothered him a lot more than he cared to admit, and it surprised him. Akaashi never expected to care about you the way he does, but there it was. Maybe it was this comfortable closeness between you that propelled Akaashi to act so boldly, in a way he couldn’t bring himself to in a long time. 

At the end of one of these unsavory games, while Bokuto busied himself with trying to get the number of a cheerleader in the stand, Akaashi scanned the court for a second, stopping only when his eyes landed on you. You were comparing your notes with the coach, and Akaashi waited until you finished speaking and Yamiji-san stalked off to scold someone else before he approached. 

“Keiji! There you are, I wanted to talk to about your receives in the first set, you –”

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Akaashi asked, not even registering what you were saying. You might have been irritated at his interruption if you hadn’t been confused by the seemingly random question he just threw at your face.

“What? Tell who what?” 

“Bokuto,” Akaashi crossed his arms and straightened his back, “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?”

You blinked at him once, the only indication that you heard what Akaashi said. He stood facing you, and the seconds seemed to stretch as you did nothing but stare back. The cacophony of sounds that usually bounced along the walls of the gym suddenly sounded muffled and dull. Your lips twitched slightly before they spread into a rehearsed grin, your face slipping easily into a mask of casual indifference.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Keiji,” you answered him softly, shaking your head. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Akaashi groaned, “You know exactly –”

“No, I really don’t,” you said almost pleadingly, your eyes darting around the gym, a mixture of sadness and relief in them when you see Bokuto still showing off to the girls that descended from the bleachers. You look back at Akaashi, brows furrowed as you said, “I don’t know what would make you even think that. Bokuto’s my best friend – that’s it. God, Akaashi, you should really be careful about what you say. If someone heard you, they might have gotten the wrong idea.”

You shot him another hard look – almost a glare, and one that he could read very well, that told him you knew he knew you were lying, that said please, just play along – before you made an excuse of gathering up all the other players for the bus back to school. 

Akaashi’s feet felt stuck to the ground, an achingly familiar helplessness sluicing through him as you walked away. He couldn’t even bring himself to move until Bokuto threw an arm around his shoulder to drag him out, finally done with his flirting and ready to go home. 

You were already seated on the bus when Bokuto and Akaashi finally deigned to board. The seat beside you was occupied by a chattering Yukie, who refused to move despite Bokuto’s complaints of always being the one that sits next to you. You laughed sheepishly and yelled claims of ‘manager bonding’ and doing everything you could to avoid meeting Akaashi’s eye. 

That was the tone of your relationship for the next few weeks. An awkward tension that no one else seemed to notice but you and him. You didn’t treat him any differently – you still greeted him with a smile, walked home together everyday, still messed with him during practice. You still asked him about his day, and told him about yours and Akaashi almost could have convinced himself that nothing was wrong. 

But everything you did started to feel like an act. Disingenuous, like a robot following a set program. You stopped sitting next to Bokuto at lunch, started walking to classes with your other friends instead. Your eyes started flicking to Akaashi whenever you felt you laughed too loudly at Bokuto’s jokes, and you latched yourself to the other players, throwing everyone off kilter. 

You were going out of your way to prove a point that only Akaashi could understand, and even when Bokuto himself had pointed out your strange behavior, you simply brushed him off. There was a sense of insecurity that Akaashi knew he instilled in your actions, and it brought a twinge of regret that he never wanted to feel when it came to you. 

Akaashi had been pouring over how to remedy the situation for days when an olive branch came in the form of Bokuto’s new girlfriend. 

She was a girl from another school, and he met her after one of their games. She came over to their side of the court and congratulated Bokuto for thoroughly defeating her team. She was very pretty and he liked her smile, so Bokuto had asked her out, and she was very quick to say yes. She was waiting for him one day after practicing, standing patiently at the entrance gates with a bag of homemade cookies in her hand. 

Bokuto was so excited as he ran out of the gym to meet her, sparing one minute to ask Akaashi to let you know where he’d gone. Akaashi supposed it was a little comforting to know that Bokuto genuinely cared about you, even if it was encased with his own selfishness. 

Akaashi waited until the rest of the volleyball club had emptied the gym before he made his way into the equipment room. He could hear your sniffling before he even opened the door, his heart slowly crumbling when he walked in on you crouched behind the volleyball cart. 

You sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead rested against your knees, and your quiet sobs filled the tiny room. You didn’t bother to look up as Akaashi approached, and fought his own tears as your shoulders shook with every breath. 

He kneeled in front of you quietly, silently debating with himself before he placed a tender hand on your shoulder. You continued to cry, taking uneven, shaky breaths. You didn’t move from your position, and Akaashi briefly wondered if you’d even registered his presence. 

“Did he leave?” You asked suddenly, voice thick and hoarse.

“Yes,” Akaashi answered. 

Slowly, you lifted your head to face him. Your eyes were puffed and swollen, eyes rimmed with red and cheeks stained with tears. Snot dribbled down your nose disgracefully, and there was a sorry attempt on your part to wipe away the evidence of your heartbreak. The sleeves you’d worn your heart on were now soaked with salty tears, and you couldn’t control the tremble of your lips. 

Akaashi didn’t know what else to do other than wrap his arms around you. The position was awkward and he’s pretty sure he’d actually never hugged you before. He felt you stiffen for a second, almost making him pull back. But then you buried your face into the crook of his neck and cried. Akaashi could feel his shirt begin to soak, but he pulled you tighter against him. 

He had no idea how long he held you for, but he stayed there in that smelly old equipment room and he held you until his knees ached and you had no more tears left to give. 

Neither of you spoke once you were done, giving him a sad smile as you pulled away. He didn’t offer one back, but he helped you up to your feet and kept an arm around your shoulder as you both walked out silently. Akaashi knew there was nothing he could say to soothe the pain, and you didn’t look like you wanted to say a single word about it anyway. 

He simply walked home with you as usual, taking the long way around to ensure you both end up walking by your favorite takoyaki stand. He spent the money he was saving in his wallet for a rainy day, and bought you all the food you could eat. He had even gotten your favorite popsicle from the convenience store by your house, and though you still remained silent, he was happy to see you eat everything he gave you. 

By the time Akaashi dropped you off at your front door, the tears were long gone and the moon was high in the sky. You turned to Akaashi, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the words. Akaashi smiled to himself, and reached out to pat his hand lightly on the top of your head.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, hoping you’d believe him. The lonely smile you gave him tells him you don’t, but you hug each other one last time anyway before saying your goodbyes.

Akaashi remembered the first time you and Bokuto successfully broke through his brick walls. Broke might have been too gentle of a word for it though – smashed through might be better. It was at the start of his second season with Fukurodani, and he was still riding the high of an amazing first year. He was ready for an even better year, ready to try out his new skills at the first practice match Yamiji-san had arranged with a school the team had never played with before. 

Then a familiar voice called his name from the other side of the court. A few familiar faces from a life he was desperate to forget peered at him through the net, chuckling and laughing and asking him where the hell he’s been for the past year? Akaashi froze – completely and pathetically froze. It was only after six missed serves and accidentally smacking Bokuto in the back of the head with a ball did Yamiji-san finally tire of his antics and benched him for the rest of the game. 

Akaashi ran to the locker rooms as soon as practice was over. He didn’t acknowledge his old classmates, didn’t even pretend to be polite or engage in empty pleasantries. Instead, he hid in one of the shower stalls until the rest of the team left and he was absolutely sure there would be no one left to see him leave. 

But when he exited the stall, there you were. Standing next to Bokuto in a locker room he was absolutely sure you weren’t allowed to be in, with your hands on your hip and brows etched in concern. The two of you cornered him, and barricaded him until he fessed up about what the hell just happened on that court. Akaashi was a resilient man, but even he could do nothing against you two. 

So he told you everything – from his ‘guru’ days to the milk dumping incident to the isolation and bullying – everything. He didn’t stop speaking for what felt like hours, but neither you nor Bokuto interrupted him once, allowing him to regurgitate everything he’d been holding in for years. 

When he was done, he wasn’t sure what he expected. Pity, or sympathy or something like that. But, no. Instead, when he looked at the faces of his two best friends, all he saw was anger. Clenched fists, tight jaws, fire burning in eyes – anger. And it made him happy. Whatever happened in his past didn’t matter, because here, he had two people who were willing to get angry on his behalf. 

He thought he couldn’t get any closer to you than he was at that moment. But he was wrong.

Walking away from your doorstep, Akaashi knew the bond between the two of you was solidified after this – having already seen each other at your worst, taking turns being each other’s salvation. You become more than his friend, you were his sister. Sister in pain, sister in darkness, sister in light. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, and you for him. 

Thinking back, the sobbing was probably a bit of an overreaction. A little dramatic considering Bokuto had broken up with that girl not even three weeks later. He was crying and moaning about it for about ten minutes until you promised to take him to his favorite yakiniku spot, and he never thought about that girl again. 

Things would go back to normal for a little while – the three of you acting as reckless teenagers do when they had free reign over the streets of Tokyo. Sitting in cafes sharing one drink for four hours, getting scolded by the coach for staying in the gym too long, laughing and arguing over the most ridiculous reasons that Bokuto turned emo. 

Until Bokuto meets his next girlfriend. Then your heart breaks into a million pieces, and Akaashi tries to hold you together. Then Bokuto breaks up with his girlfriend, and comes running back with crocodile tears in his eyes. You’d catch him again with open arms, and things are alright for a little while until the ugly cycle starts over again. 

Akaashi tried not to let himself wonder why you allowed yourself to accept this – allow Bokuto to put you through it over and over again. He told himself that he didn’t really care, it wasn’t any of his business. Whether you told Bokuto your true feelings or not was your prerogative, and Akaashi wouldn’t do anything but respect your decisions. Even if the decision seemed borderline masochistic. 

Akaashi is forced to simply brush off his irritation at his best friend, because Bokuto was so painfully unaware of what he’d been doing. And if Bokuto was too stupid to see what was right in front of his eyes, then Akaashi was not interested in being the one to enlighten him. 

Ultimately, Akaashi does what he does best – keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. He would listen to every single complaint Bokuto would have about his girlfriends, but he never dared offer his own opinions. He allowed you to drag him to whatever random activity would keep your mind off your own issues, but he never outwardly acknowledged the hurt you always tried to hide. 

And as horrible it is to say, the girls never lasted very long. A month, maybe two at the most. Hardly enough time for Akaashi to memorize any names, as cruel as that sounded. Soon enough, they would complain about his training schedule, or whine about how he hangs out with his friends a bit too much, and that was all it took for Bokuto to cut it off. Bokuto’s priorities always remained the same, and that at least was something Akaashi happily gave him credit for. 

By the time college rolled around, you had even started dating. No one else had ever successfully managed to ensnare your attention for more than five minutes, but Akaashi appreciated seeing you try. Though he admits it was rather amusing to see Bokuto so fervently talk shit about any person you had even a remote interest in, and maybe a little bit more than satisfying to see Bokuto finally be the one on the other side. 

Bokuto, surprisingly, never actually brought any of his girlfriends around. He talked about them, and on occasion, he would invite them to some of his games, but that was it. It was odd, because Bokuto had always struck Akaashi as the type that wanted his partner cheering for him at every opportunity they could get, and would want to hear their voice screaming his name from the stands. But on the rare occasion he actually allowed any of them to come watch him, Bokuto was quick to usher them out of the gym before anyone could even introduce themselves.

It bewildered Akaashi to no end. Was it because he was ashamed?Akaashi’s met at least two girlfriends, and Bokuto’s gone on double dates with Konoha and Washio. Was he hiding his girlfriends from you?

Did he finally get a taste of his own medicine when he saw you kiss that guy in your psych class? Was Bokuto trying to spare you the pain? Akaashi didn’t really want to think of the implications if that statement were true. 

Well, out of sight, out of mind was a set up that worked for him very well.

And more importantly, it worked well enough for you. Worked for Bokuto as well, apparently. He didn’t want to see any of your flings, and you were better off not seeing any of his. A nauseating song and dance that only the two of you knew the steps for. Neither of you were willing to be each other's partner, satisfied to let the opportunity suspend in the air between you, yet never reaching out to take it. 

But hey, if you’re fine with it, then Akaashi could work with this. He could live with this.

That was until Hikari came along. 

Akaashi was honestly a little surprised – Hikari wasn’t typically the type of woman that Bokuto would tangle himself with. That wasn’t to say anything about her looks, or her personality – she was very much Bokuto’s type. But she had already been an essential part of at least one aspect of his life before they started dating, and it was unusual for Bokuto to allow a relationship to transpire with someone so close – the manager of his team, at that. Bokuto always dated outside the proximity of his circle; someone that went to another school, or one that he met at the gym, or sat next to him in one of his classes. 

Never anyone too close. Never anyone that would matter if he lost them. 

But apparently, Hikari was a woman on a mission. Akaashi knew it from the first time he met her, could see it in the wolfish gleam in her eyes as she watched Bokuto from across the room.

He was a little taken aback, but not all that shocked when you came home from that party, practically giving him a heart attack when you burst through the front door and stormed directly to the couch. You didn’t spare him a glance before you face planted onto the cushions, buried your face into the decorative pillows he’d spent two hours picking, and let out the most ungodly scream he’d ever heard. 

You didn’t have to tell him what happened; Akaashi could easily guess. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he still asked slowly, afraid any sudden movements might cause you to lunge. 

“I wish I knew,” your voice was muffled, not bothering to lift your head from the pillow. 

A nagging voice in his head told him he should have stayed at that party, to be your emotional support at the very least if nothing else. He mentally kicked himself, glaring at the laptop he sat in front of, and the blinking document of his unfinished part in the group project he was meant to present to his group mates in the morning. As if the assignment was responsible for his failure. 

You’d be safe if he left, he reasoned with himself. The volleyball team was full of idiots, but they were all good guys. Besides, Bokuto was there and there wasn’t a single chance in hell anything bad would happen to you while he was around. And if Bokuto was too drunk, then Kuroo at least would make sure you all got home safely.  He’d even set himself up on the dining room table so he could see you walk through the front door with his own two eyes. 

Because he had fully expected you to walk through those doors with Bokuto in tow like you’ve done dozens of times, and the fact that you arrived in the dead of night alone was enough to make Akaashi’s blood pressure rise. 

He stood from his chair and walked the few short steps to the fridge. He opened the freezer door, pushing through packets of frozen meat until he found the cream puff flavored ice cream that you had to special order online. He grabs the pint and two spoons before he makes his way to the couch. 

You didn’t move when he pushed your leg to the side, sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. You didn’t move when he nudged your calves with his knuckles and asked you to sit up before you suffocated. So he just leaned back, tossing the lid of the ice cream pint onto the coffee table before digging in. 

It’d been two bites of ice cream and one minute later when you slowly maneuver yourself to sit up. Akaashi tried to pretend not to notice you, but it was impossible when you snatched the extra spoon and the entire pint out of his hand in one fluid motion.

“Jesus, watch out for my fingers,” he mumbled, smirking at the glare you shot his way. But you only held the fake contempt until the first spoon of your favorite dessert hit your lips – then you were sighing and leaning your head against Akaashi’s shoulder.

He patted a hand on your knee, reaching over for a scoop of ice cream and chuckling when you blocked his spoon with yours. You tried to hide the ice cream from him, but his arms were long, and he easily snatched the pint back. 

“Hey!” you cried out, and Akaashi quickly conceded before you really took out a finger. 

“How’d you get home?” Akaashi asked, lifting his feet to rest them on the coffee table and leaning his head against yours.

“Kuroo walked me home,” you replied quietly.

“Good.”

Neither of you said another word as you let the quiet of the evening envelope you, not a single sound save for the occasional clashing of spoons when you both reached for another bite. He could feel you slowly ease beside him, the tension in your body melting away with each passing minute.

When the ice cream was finished, the empty pint decorated your table, along with two spoons haphazardly tossed, surrounded by splotches of melted cream that was sure to be a pain to clean. Your breathing was steady, and the time on the clock read ‘Akaashi is going to be exhausted in the morning’. 

He didn’t care, though. You hadn’t moved or spoken in a while now, and Akaashi was convinced you were already asleep. He already prepared himself to spend the night on the couch, your head on his shoulder and his body twisted in a way that was sure to make his back ache the next day. 

He was just seconds away from giving into sleep’s lovely tug when you broke the silence. 

“I saw him with…” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt and clearing your throat, “It was Hikari.”

Akaashi sighed, reaching a hand up to pat your head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again, a pitiful question that he’s repeated to you countless times.

He waited for your usual answer – vehement denial that anything could be possibly wrong, an airy dismissal of his concerns, and a change in conversation so effortless, it almost makes Akaashi forget what he was saying to you in the first place.

This time, though – this time, a weighted silence followed his question, and you looped an arm around his, hugging him firmly.

“Not really,” you admitted softly. 

It was the first time Akaashi had ever heard you confess your heartache. It was always something that was unspoken, and seeing your crumpled face made Akaashi regret ever keeping things that way. He turned fully to wrap himself around you gently, and you gave yourself to his embrace. He’d only heard a sniffle or two, but he could feel the moisture slowly seeping into his t-shirt. It was a feeling that was achingly familiar. 

“Come on, now. Didn’t we say crying over boys was… I think your words were ‘so fucking embarrassing’,” Akaashi mumbled into your hair, smiling when he felt you chuckle against him. His stomach turned at the inadequacy of his words, but he had no idea what else to offer, so he simply offered himself. “I’m here for you, okay? Always.”

You pulled back for a moment to give him a watery smile. Akaashi wiped at your tear stained cheeks.

“Literally, your snot is dripping down to your mouth, and it’s disgusting.” 

Your laughter warmed Akaashi’s cheeks, smacking him on the shoulder before you stood up. You said nothing else as you stalked off into the darkness of your bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights before shutting the door. 

A myriad of emotions swirled through Akaashi as he remained seated on the couch. Was there more that he could have said? Could have done? If he had stayed at the party, would he have been able to stop this from happening? Was it even any of his business to stop it? 

But Akaashi knows himself, and knows he would have said nothing if he saw Bokuto sneak away with Hikari. He would have done nothing except perhaps usher you to the other side of the house, using whatever means to keep you distracted. Even if he was there, all he could have done was spare you the knowledge of it – at least for one night. 

He couldn’t help but feel as if he failed you then – to be a good friend, a brother. Or maybe he’s failed you for years. You’d never see it that way, could never even fathom the notion of his failure, and somehow that thought bothers Akaashi more. 

Akaashi stood up and stalked to his own room. He shut the door and collapsed onto his bed, hatred pumping from his heart through his veins as he drifted off to sleep. 

It was that lingering hate he could still feel churning in his gut when he awoke the next morning that spurred him out of bed and scurrying into the living room. He had every intention of starting the day as a new man – one who didn’t allow his cowardice consume him, didn’t place the comfort of his wellbeing over the needs of those he loved. 

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind, but his momentum halted instantly when he rounded the corner of the hallway, and saw you standing in the genkan. You looked like you had just rolled out of bed yourself, eyes swollen and still wearing the clothes from last night. Your hand rested on the doorknob, the front door wide open.

You turned to him as he approached, and gave him an almost pleading look. Akaashi only had to wonder why you were distressed for two seconds before Bokuto barrelled through the doorway, way too loudly and looking much too bright for the hour. 

Akaashi has seen this dance before. He’s seen it so many times, the sequence of it already playing out in his mind like a familiar melody. Bokuto comes in with a plan that sounded equal parts ridiculous and exhausting, dragging you out without even asking. Akkashi scoffed as you tried and failed to ward off Bokuto with pathetic excuses, but as usual he was having none of it. And both you and Akaashi knew better than to think you could win against Bokuto Kotaro. 

He stood aside while you flurried around the apartment like a blizzard storm, fighting the frown at how Bokuto stood in the foyer with his hands on his hips, a satisfied and smug look on his face. Bokuto turned to Akaashi as if he’d just noticed him for the first time, slapping him on the shoulder before asking, “Akaashi! Why do I feel like I didn’t even see you at all last night?”

It was an effort not to lift a hand and smack Bokuto in the back of the head right then and there. But thankfully, you came rushing out of your bedroom, hastily grabbing a pair of shoes from the genkan. You shot him one last apologetic glance, and you were out the door before he could even bid you goodbye. 

And there he stood – alone in the foyer of his own apartment, feeling like nothing more than a fly on the wall. 

A glance at the clock was the only thing that could have set him in motion, already running ten minutes later than he wanted to start his day. From the tornado named Bokuto that just passed, and the flurry in which Akaashi himself now dashed around, it seemed the apartment was destined to be chaotic. 

He was impatiently tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter, glaring at his coffee machine as if his sheer will would somehow make the brew drip faster, when there was another knock on the door. 

The day was already filled with chaos, but apparently also surprises, because the last person he expected to see on the other side of the threshold was Kuroo Tetsuro. 

The two boys blinked at each other for a second, Kuroo looking just as confused as Akaashi as to why he came to visit in the first place. Kuroo shifted his weight from one foot to the other with his hands tucked in his front pockets, offered Akaashi a nervous smile and a lukewarm attempt at small talk before finally asking if you were still asleep inside. 

Akaashi sighed as he delivered the unfortunate news that not only were you already awake, but were currently being dragged no doubt halfway across the city by none other than Kuroo’s very own roommate. 

“Do you guys not communicate or something,” Akaashi asked blandly, and Kuroo just shrugged.

“He wasn’t there when I got home last night, and he wasn’t there when I woke up this morning. What do you want from me?” 

Akaashi rolled his eyes, but he still widened the door for Kuroo to slip through, who only smiled at him sheepishly as he entered the apartment. Akaashi asked if he wanted some coffee, and Kuroo graciously accepted, slipping back into the easy, laid-back attitude that he’d always been known to wear. 

Content to leave Kuroo to his own devices, Akaashi darted back into his room to quickly change. When he emerged eight minutes later, fully clothed and his backpack dangling from his shoulder, Kuroo was filling up his thermos with coffee while Akaashi’s already sat waiting for him at the counter. 

Akaashi nodded his head in thanks, Kuroo handing him his cup as the two walked out of the apartment in tandem. He didn't say anything when Kuroo remained in step with him, chattering about his classes as they embarked on the twenty minute walk to campus. Didn’t even consider that it was a weekend, and Kuroo likely didn’t even have to head in this direction so early at all. 

Kuroo stayed with Akaashi as far as the library entrance, the latter almost entering the building before he finally had the frame of mind to wonder, “Wait, so why’d you stop by the apartment today?” Akaashi looked over his shoulder and adjusted his bag a bit higher, “Sorry, I was too distracted by… everything. Did you need something?”

Kuroo chuckled almost guiltily, a crooked smile on his lips. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Akaashi as if he was debating whether he wanted to tell him the truth. 

“Oh, ha,” Kuroo breathed out, shaking his head slightly, “No, I was just – I mean, y/n looked pretty out of it last night. And I was about to,” Kuroo cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, “I was heading to that cafe – you know, the one in front of that seven eleven? – and I thought I’d check in to see if she was alive.”

Akaashi’s eyes softened in understanding, pressing his lips into a thin line and nodding his head once as he turned to face Kuroo fully and offered him half a smile.

“Thanks for taking her home last night, by the way,” said Akaashi, “She’s lucky you were still at the party.”

Kuroo let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. He takes a strap of his own backpack off his shoulder and flips it to the front, holding it against his chest as he hastily pulls open the zipper.

“Yeah, it was just good timing,” Kuroo replied while he continued to dig through his backpack. He eventually pulls out a few red packets and hands them to Akaashi, “Here. It’s red ginseng. I’m not sure how long you’re planning to be here, but it should help you get through the day.” 

Akaashi examined the red packets in his hand, almost pouting with appreciation to Kuroo. But when he lifted his head, Kuroo was already walking across the courtyard.

“Make sure to give one of those to y/n when you see her!” He yelled over his shoulder, waving at Akaashi one last time before taking off. 

Akaashi did eat the red ginseng, and it did help him get through the seven hours he had spent in the library that day. And he never thought twice about Kuroo’s impromptu visit to his apartment that morning, nor did he think twice about being escorted to the library despite the cafe Kuroo mentioned being on the complete opposite side of campus. 

Because that was just Kuroo – Akaashi had never known him to be any other way. The very definition of all bark no bite, the kind of man that would tease you relentlessly for a stain on your pants, then take you to a store to buy you a new pair. 

Though Kuroo may have been closer to Bokuto, Akaashi had a tremendous amount of respect for the man, and would probably even go so far as to say Kuroo was also one of his closest friends. 

And when Hikari started to prove herself a new fixture, and Bokuto’s absence became more frequent, Akaashi was appreciative of Kuroo’s steady presence – still showing up to the study sessions, and coming over to watch volleyball games on Akaashi’s “much nicer TV”, and grabbing hot ramen and a cold beer after a particularly stressful test. 

He was acting as the Kuroo Tetsuro he’d always been, and it was that semblance of normalcy that Kuroo effortlessly provided, without anyone asking him to, nor any expectations from anyone else – like a lighthouse in the middle of a raging storm, Akaashi knows it was Kuroo that brought them safely to harbor. 

Because Akaashi was waiting for it. Ever since that day you had come home from your outing with Bokuto, dragging your feet through the door, looking like someone had just ripped the world out from beneath your feet, he had been waiting. For the other shoe to drop, for the inevitable descent into madness - at least your version of it. 

He felt prepared for it in a way, felt ready. He was no longer going to pretend to believe your fake smiles and reassurances that you were fine while you locked yourself in your room days at a time, and he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself so hard into your studies that you forget to eat. 

Akaashi felt things would be different this time around. He’d make sure of it. So he waited for the moment your mask would fall, and prepared himself to catch the pieces.

But the moment never came. 

Don’t misunderstand. It’s not as if Akaashi wanted to see you have a mental breakdown for the eighth time in as many years, and he certainly didn’t want to watch you retreat into a shell of yourself as you attempt to reconcile your new reality with your broken fantasies. 

Akaashi can see it in your face sometimes, even though you try your hardest to hide it. The exhaustion beneath your red-rimmed eyes, the very slight downturn of your lips when you thought no one was paying attention, and the tiredness in your slumped shoulders, as if you’ve been carrying a mountain on your shoulders. 

Still, you always made sure to take care of everybody, and you did it for so long. Akaashi didn’t want to admit to being part of the guilty party, but he had just been as willing to take everything you gave, and believed when you said you needed nothing in return. 

It was shameful, and a little bit more than selfish, but a small part of him wanted this chance. To prove himself a worthy friend, that he could take care of the people that mattered to him the most. He almost hated himself for it, for using your suffering as an opening, but he wanted to make up for all the lost opportunities, for the pain his silence might have caused. 

It was his turn to take care of you, and he was ready to do a damn good job.

Except, you were fine. 

He was thankful, if not a little thrown off by the lack of a depressive episode. But thankful, nonetheless. 

More than thankful, though, he was curious. Bokuto was becoming increasingly absent, flaking on plans and ignoring phone calls. Akaashi had never seen him be so serious about a girl, and even he was feeling annoyed about being left in the proverbial dust. Akaashi had imagined you’d be a little more… upset.

He hadn’t noticed any particular changes. Your routine hardly deviated, aside from the occasional dinners or drinks at the bar with him and Kuroo – if you were not in class you were at work, if you weren’t at work you were home, and if you weren’t home you were in class. For a short while, Akaashi felt like he had been living with a ghost, just going through the motions until the sun set and rose again for the new day. 

Sometimes, though, he’d find you on the balcony, sitting on the matching chairs Bokuto’s sisters bought for you when the two of you had first moved in. A mug of coffee or tea would be in your hands, the liquid looking as if it had long gone cold. You wouldn’t acknowledge Akaashi whenever he’d step outside to join you. Say nothing as he sits in the vacant seat beside you, staring only out into the blinking lights of the city. 

When you were this way, Akaashi knew better than to try and bother you to speak. Your mind was eons away, in a world where Akaashi had never been and would never get to see. So he settled himself to sit beside you silently, until you were ready to climb back down from wherever you wandered off to.   

But even those days became few and far in between. 

It was something that confused him, like he’d been following a trail of crumbs laid before him, yet had no idea where it would lead him to. 

That was, until he walked up to Study room 201 for the usual Tuesday evening session. On a normal day he would simply barge into the room without a thought as to who was already in there or if they were in the middle of anything important. But there was a tug in his chest that halted him in front of the narrow, rectangular window cut-out of the sliding door. He was still as he peeked through the glass, and something clicked so loudly in his brain, his eardrums nearly burst. 

Because Study Room 201 was already a mess of textbooks and papers, prohibited snacks and drinks littered the conference table, and Kuroo Tetsuro was sitting next to you. 

You were leaning over as you read something on his laptop screen, and Kuroo slightly leaned back to give you some room. Your eyes were roving over the screen quickly, faster than any normal person should be reading. Then you frowned at something, your finger pointing at certain spots as you explained his mistakes. 

It seemed like you were ripping into Kuroo’s essay or project or whatever it was he was having you read over, your mouth running off into a seemingly endless tangent of all the things he could have done differently. If it was Akaashi in that situation, his head would probably feel so hot from how irritating your voice surely would have sounded in his ears. He might have shoved you away altogether. 

Yet, there was Kuroo Tetsuro, sitting in the seat Akaashi had only ever seen one other person sit in, staring at you as he tried but failed desperately to hide the smile on his face. You turned just as Kuroo’s smile bubbled into a chuckle, and you smacked your pen so hard on his head, Akaashi was afraid he might start bleeding. 

Kuroo’s chuckle turned into complete laughter, loud and obnoxious and infectious, it was only a matter of seconds until you dissolved into a fit of giggles yourself. 

Neither of you paid him much attention when Akaashi finally decided to open the door. In fact, it seemed as if you hadn’t noticed him at all, despite nearly slamming the door in his haste to enter. Akaashi settled into the seat across from you, as he’s always done, and a small part of him wondered if Kuroo might move back into his usual seat beside him now that Akaashi has entered the picture.

He didn’t. He simply smiled at Akaashi and asked him if he’d like a turn to criticize his work. Of course, Akaashi agreed and thoroughly enjoyed tearing down Kuroo’s perfectly good thesis if only because it made both of you laugh. 

Akaashi felt incredibly stupid for not seeing it before, and now that he has, he doesn’t understand how he could have possibly missed it. He stared at the man beside you now, sneaking grapes onto your laptop to get you to eat and wordlessly walking down the hall to fill your water bottle and filling in the seat Akaashi never braved to fill, and the revelations pour over him like a waterfall, loud and rumbling and serene all at once. 

He’s glad it was Kuroo. 

It was a little painful, though. Not a heartbreak, nor a pang of jealousy, but there was an ache that took hold in his body all the same. And he hated that selfish part of him that was hurt – wishing it was him that could have helped you heal.

But it wasn’t him, and he’s glad it was Kuroo. 

Whatever sort of pain or shame or guilt that he was torturing himself with was quickly eased away by the sound of your muffled laughter through the apartment walls during late night phone calls, the color that was beginning to return to your cheeks, and the light that had finally returned in your eyes.

In those following months, you stopped locking yourself in your room, stopped losing yourself in the city lights on that cold, empty balcony. And more than once has Akaashi come home to find you and Kuroo splayed across the living room, either giggling over something playing on the TV screen with beer cans littered across his coffee table, or sitting beside each other in comfortable silence while you both worked or studied.

One way or another, Akaashi would get roped into whatever it was you were doing with Kuroo. And he’ll complain, berate you two for wasting his time on nonsense and tomfoolery, but it was those moments that provided him with a sharp clarity, like he finally has all the pieces he needed for this puzzle. 

Akaashi may have been just a man on the outside looking in, but the picture that Kuroo had built with you – for you – was more beautiful and warm than Akaashi had ever thought to imagine. And whether you realized it or not, you now went about your days with a permanent smile on your lips and a lightness in the air about you that Akaashi had not felt in years. 

It had filled him with something he didn’t even know he had been missing, as if his lungs were finally taking their first gulp of air after so long underwater. The brightness you started to exude felt as warm and refreshing as summer’s first rays of sun, and Akaashi finally lets himself relax. 

Because Kuroo – that son of a bitch, Akaashi could kiss him in the mouth – he had taken the pieces of you that were scattered across the dirty floor, and he’s put together every single shard until you were nearly whole again. He had breathed an entirely new life into you, a mosaic of all the things you thought you couldn’t handle, brought back to make you stronger. You were almost unrecognizable. 

But people don’t change so easily, and some habits are ingrained into your bones. Akaashi could already see the beginnings of it. The self-doubt, the fear, overthinking your every word and action. Often, Akaashi felt as if he could hear your thoughts from across the room, his throat constricting as they wrapped around him like a noose. 

He didn’t want things to be the same, he told himself. Things were going to be different this time. He’d said it like a mantra over and over again, and now was the time for him to put his money where his mouth was. 

And one day, Akaashi was in the kitchen making his usual cup of coffee, you came bouncing – no, literally, you were bouncing – out of your room with just about the goofiest smile he’d ever seen on your face, and it was all the push he needed to step over the line.

He allowed himself that bit of courage, something he’d spent years shoving to the back of his mind, smothered by his own hands.

“Excited for your date?”

“It’s not a date!”

“Would it be so bad if it was?I mean look at you, you’re smiling like an idiot.” 

For one, glorious, precious second, Akaashi thought that things would finally work out. The gears started spinning your head, and even though you glared at him, Akaashi could already see a sparkle in your eye, and a hint of smile you tried to hide.

“You know what, Keiji, I’m getting sick of you –”

And it only took three knocks for everything to come toppling down. 

The not-so-serendipitous entrance of Bokuto Koutaro was usually accepted with open arms, and an exasperated sigh that wasn’t actually exasperated but a little excited to see what he’s got planned for the day.

But that day, the sight of his streaked hair made Akaashi’s stomach drop to the floor, and hearing the way he spoke to you only made Akaashi see red. 

He almost didn’t register the slam of his front door, the blood roaring in his ears too loudly for him to hear your heated exchange. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for his best friend, pouting like a child whose favorite toy was just ripped from his hand. 

Akaashi knew, deep down somewhere in a dusty corner of his heart, that Bokuto didn’t mean any harm. He might have even thought he came here with the best of intentions, that maybe he was trying to be a good friend. And maybe that’s what irritates Akaashi even more, the complete lack of self-awareness, and the obliviousness to those around him – perfectly content with staying inside his own Bokuto-powered bubble. 

Irritated, yes. Still, Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to be truly vexed. Not when Bokuto looked just as confused and distraught. Akaashi didn't know what he was thinking, or perhaps he wasn’t even thinking at all, but he couldn’t stop himself. But the worst part of it was, he didn’t want to. Because you were finally letting yourself be happy, and he wasn’t going to let Bokuto ruin it. 

“She’s finally moving on. You shouldn’t do anything to mess that up.”

“Just leave it alone, Bokuto-san. Before anyone gets hurt.”

By the time he was finished, the flames of anger Akaashi felt just moments prior had completely died, and he was left with nothing but a taste of smoke and ash on his tongue. He spoke the words a lot more calmly than he felt, a familiar sense of sympathy creeping over his heart yet again.

Because the look on Bokuto’s face was one Akaashi had seen before, but never on him. A mix of shock and confusion, topped off with a hint of anguish and regret. It looked sad enough on you, but on Bokuto, it was heartbreaking.

So he truly didn’t know. Akaashi’s not sure if it made him feel better or worse. He just knew he was finished with this game, and although he couldn’t really understand the gravity of what he’d just done, he didn’t regret it. When Bokuto silently nodded and left his apartment, he felt only relief.

There was an eerie calm that settled in the wake of Bokuto’s departure. You came back from your date-not-date with Kuroo in infinitely better spirits than when you left, back to skipping around the apartment while humming a tune only you could hear, and the morning’s debacle was already long forgotten. 

Kuroo, unsurprisingly, became quite determined to attach himself to your hip, with a new sense of comfort and a different sort of tension that Akaashi didn’t feel like addressing. It seemed the encounter with Bokuto had added fuel to more than one fire, and if Kuroo was trying to hide his feelings before, he wasn’t bothering to do so now. Akaashi’s caught the way Kuroo looks at you more than once, and it’s even given him butterflies more than he cared to admit. 

Bokuto eventually apologized, and he’d even started bringing Hikari around more. She really was a sweet girl, clearly putting in the effort to get to know Bokuto’s friends. She even desperately tried to ignore Bokuto’s longing looks at a certain blossoming couple, and Akaashi wished he had the capacity to care just a little bit more about the poor girl Bokuto dragged into the tangled web of his heart. 

Alas, he was too busy preparing for the storm.

Akaashi had always been an overthinker. It’s in his nature, something inherent in him that he could never shake no matter how hard he tried. Or it could be the result of his younger days hiding behind his fear, maybe it was something he never actually got over. Akaashi doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows much of anything these days. 

His useless mind was only searching for ways he could have prevented this. If he pushed you about your feelings earlier, would you have ended up with Bokuto instead of Kuroo? Would it have been the two of you laughing and dancing, pouring honey in each others’ ear in a crowded room like no one was watching? 

If not for Akaashi, would Bokuto have ever even realized you were in love with him? Were it not for him, would it have eaten away at Bokuto’s very heart until he attacked his own best friend? Akaashi should have kept his mouth shut. If he did, then maybe you might have actually allowed yourself to enjoy being with Kuroo, to let him romance you in the way he’s been aching to do, to let yourself fall in the way you’ve been afraid to for so long. 

And if he did, then maybe he wouldn’t have found Bokuto’s white-knuckled fists gripping Kuroo’s shirt in the middle of a stunned crowd, drenched in sticky alcohol and hair in disarray while you were crying in the corner. Hikari wouldn’t have been sobbing in the back of a dirty taxi, fighting the bile rising in her throat from the betrayal of the one meant to love her most.

He wouldn’t have had to drag you home, too stunned into silence to fight him. He was thankful for that, because he knows that if you had seen the look on Kuroo’s face as everyone he loved left him soaked, eyes stinging, and alone… Akaashi would have deserved that punch you’d throw in his face. 

There were a plethora of things he wished he said, things he could have done. They played through his mind like an endless reel of maybes and what ifs and would haves over and over again as if determined to drive him insane.

He’s not sure what to do now. He’s not sure if he should even do anything. He was tired, he hadn't eaten in at least twenty seven hours, and when he looked in the mirror that morning, he cringed at the deep purple color that encircled his eyes. 

The coffee maker beeped loudly, and Akaashi mindlessly grabbed his mug from the cabinet. His eyes were unfocused, relying on his muscle memory to grab the oat milk creamer from the fridge and mixing in his preferred amount of sugar. 

The morning was calm, a stark contrast from the evening before, and Akaashi’s been awake for a lot longer than he’d care to admit. He stirred his spoon in circles, watching the whorls of milk blend into inky water. This was his fourth cup. Four times he’s brewed a fresh pot, hoping to have one ready for you once you step out of your room. Four times the coffee had turned cold, and he watched it swirl against the steel of his sink as he poured it down the drain. Four times he’s walked to the counter to brew a fresh pot again. 

He winced when he took a sip, coffee burning his tongue, like one last insult to his injuries. By now, he’s already used up more than half the bag of coffee beans you brought home from work just the other day. He hated being wasteful. He hated drinking more than one cup before he could even eat his breakfast. He hated waiting for you alone with nothing but the sugar granules littering his dining table to keep him company. 

He hated the silence in his apartment. He hated the 53 missed calls on his phone from Kuroo and Bokuto. He hated that he was the one who sent Bokuto into a downward spiral. He hated every single face that did nothing but gawked with their phones out while two men – who had never so much as raised their voices at each other  – looked like they were two seconds away from ripping each other's throat out.  

He hated everything.

But he would still do it all over again. Let the fire he had unknowingly started burn their slate clean. If it means peace, if it means freedom from the cage they built around themselves… then he’d do it all over again, for his friends. 

And once it grows cold, Akaashi will brew another pitcher of coffee. He will make himself another cup. 

And he will sit in this chair, and he will wait until he sees you walking out that door. 

The sun was nearing its peak when you finally woke up. 

You cursed yourself for forgetting to draw all your curtains last night, and you squinted against the harsh rays of sun now beating down on your face.

It was an effort to open your eyes. There was crust lining your waterline, stinging your lashes when you tried to flutter them open. Your lids still felt heavy and swollen, and you barely won the battle of keeping them open. 

Your head was throbbing, so loudly that it was the only thing you could hear. You dig into your temples with the heel of your palm, groaning as you positioned yourself to sit up. You run your hands along the rumpled sheets until your fingers hit something hard. You dig through a little more, closing your eyes and bracing yourself as you grab your phone. 

Dead. Only a black screen stared back, no matter how many times you pressed the buttons. You tossed the phone back on the mattress just as you flopped yourself back down, the both of you landing on the sheets like a useless brick.

You should probably charge the damn thing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the morning’s peace just yet. You doubt you’d find another moment of it the second you get out of this bed. 

Instead, you bury your fingers into your own hair, twisting your body around until your face is buried in your pillow, and you fight the urge to scream into it, too worried that the extra strain might actually cause you to hurl your guts out.  

Not yet. 

You burrowed even deeper into your sheets, wrapping the blankets around yourself until you were nothing more than a cocoon of self-preservation. Because you weren’t ready to face it. The betrayal you were unknowingly the center of, the years of friendship that was splintered in a matter of seconds, the broken hearts of the people you cherished the most. You weren’t ready to face any of it. Not yet.

As if the cowardly admission was some sort of key, memories began to flood through wide open gates in your head, soaking you all over again with sticky alcohol and salty tears. You tried to push it back, tried to cover yourself, like holding an umbrella in a hurricane. But the waves of memory overpowered you, knocking you off your feet each time you remembered Kuroo’s wide-eyed, vacant look as he watched Akaashi haul you away. 

Kuroo. 

Tetsuro.

Even a mere whisper of his name still sends shocks through your nerves, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The thought of him consumed you so easily, so wholly, like he was a blanket of calm that smothered all your raging thoughts until there was only him. Everything about him made you so dizzy, light headed and out of breath.

Every time you hear his voice, so rich and creamy, it coats all over you like something luxurious on your skin. Forcing yourself to pretend that you’re not breathing in his scent whenever he’s near, pretend that cedar and smoke and warm amber don’t haunt your dreams – it was a tremendous effort on your part to keep yourself sane, to keep yourself from free-falling into the rabbit hole that was Kuroo Tetsuro. 

But last night… You could have dreamt all you wanted about what it would be like to have him look at you with shaky breaths and dilated pupils and ask if he could kiss you, and it still wouldn’t have amounted to anything close to actually having him in front of you. It made you want to laugh almost as much as it made you want to cry, because of course Kuroo Tetsuro could make reality surpass fantasy. 

You wished the memories could have stopped there, that your night ended with the only kiss that has ever made you feel like you were in the clouds.

But fate was almost as cruel as life. 

It was difficult to explain how it felt, for everything to finally click into place while also spiraling into confusion. 

You understood with painful clarity why Hikari hated you, why she acted like you were a pebble in her shoe, and looked at you as if your very existence was an eyesore. You remembered that fight with Bokuto, and the tension that never went away even after the two of you reconciled – all the times Bokuto’s mood would plummet at the mere mention Kuroo, each time you ignored the frustrated glances he threw towards the both of you, hoping you were simply imagining things.

Because what reason could Bokuto possibly have to act that way? You thought about it over and over, and could never come up with an adequate conclusion. 

Now, your willful ignorance has finally come to pay its retribution, a sort of cosmic joke that you were sure some powers above found absolutely hilarious – because Bokuto Kotaro was in love with you. In love. With you. Has been, apparently, for … you didn’t even want to think of how long, couldn’t comprehend the implication of his confession.

A confession that you vividly remember praying for, words that your heart has longed for and ached to hear. Cried for in the silent void of your bedroom, hoped for in your fractured soul, because for so long, you waited, even just for a sliver for a chance for Bokuto to actually see you as more than a friend, more than just the overbearing manager who followed him to college. 

It almost kills you to know that he was waiting for the same thing. 

For a moment, you envisioned it. The life you could have had with Bokuto – walking around campus tucked beneath his arm, registering for classes that fit each other’s schedule, wearing his jersey when you watch his games. Maybe you would have joined the team as a manager, and there wouldn’t have been a second you wouldn’t spend together. Bokuto probably wouldn’t have even waited for the first year to end before convincing you to move in with him. The apartment would have been small, but he wouldn’t ever miss a single dinner together. 

Every morning, you’d wake up to an empty bedroom, but by the time you prepared two steaming mugs of coffee, Bokuto would have already returned from his morning run. He’d kiss you and embrace you, and you’d get ready for the day together, leave your home together, and come home together.

Grief is peppered through every thought like weeds, mourning for the time lost and each memory that never happened. It would have been a beautiful life together. It would have been filled with love, laughter, and happiness so bright, just imagining it made your eyes burn. 

The smell of fresh coffee permeated through the musty, stale air of your bedroom. You could almost see the trail of the scent wafting through the open seams of your door, snaking through the smog until it wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It beckoned you like a familiar friend, so enticing that it actually spurred you to sit back up. 

Suddenly, you felt your stomach grumble and the dryness in your mouth felt like ash, as if the smell of arabica beans was that first fallen domino that had all your issues tumbling into each other. You ignored the rush of nausea churning in your stomach that had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you drank last night, and swung your legs over the side of your bed, feet absently shuffling against the wooden floor until they found your slippers. 

You stifled a groan as you stood, and dragged your feet across the room slowly. You snatched the thin robe you kept hung over your computer chair, and wrapped it tightly around your body, taking a deep breath as you closed your fingers around the door knob and twisted it open. 

You nearly choked on the wave of aroma that rushed at you so fast, you might have thought you were stepping into an actual roastery instead of your own living room. You half expected to see Akaashi standing over a heated pan, vigorously stirring beans until they turned brown – or however the hell one would roast coffee, you seriously had no idea. 

Instead, you found him standing in front of the coffee maker you bought for him two Christmases ago, hands on his hips and foot tapping on the floor. The machine was bubbling and hissing as the coffee dripped slowly into the pot, and the counter was an abhorrent mess that you’ve quite literally never seen Akaashi make in the entire time you’ve lived with him. 

“Did you open up some sort of… cafe in our apartment that I wasn’t aware of,” You tried to keep your voice light and playful, but the words scratched at your throat, and they came out sounding tired and rough.

Akaashi could have broken his neck with the speed he turned around, shooting an arm out to catch himself on the counter when his momentum threatened to hurtle his body too far. He regarded you with wide, tired eyes, coffee staining his shirt in four different places, and you had a strange feeling that if you reached up and tried to run your fingers through his hair, you would find a bird’s egg nestled somewhere deep within. He looked – and you were putting this nicely – like absolute shit. 

You tried to smile, and his gaze immediately softened, lips coming together into a tight line. And you regretted any previous thoughts you might have had about the malnourished vibe he was putting down., because the pathetic way he looked at you definitely said that you looked about a million times worse. 

“I thought I’d give it a try,” he said softly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter, “It can’t be that hard, can it? Especially with an experienced barista in the vicinity.”

You clicked your tongue, and gave Akaashi a mocking glare, “You wouldn’t be able to afford my skills and services.”

Akaashi brought a finger up to his lip in faux-thought, and you felt your heart flutter when he opened his arms wide, “I can pay with warm, comforting, and gentle embraces?”

You shook your head, and your slippers slapped against the wooden floor as you hurriedly made your way across the room and crashed into Akaashi’s arms.

“Can’t you be normal and just call it a hug?” Your voice was muffled against his chest, “Who the hell calls it an embrace these days?”

He pulled you against him even tighter, “Literary geniuses, that’s who.”

A chuckle softly escaped from your lips and vibrated against Akaashi’s chest, and it felt like a tether had been snapped. Even more giggles tumbled out, and the fact that Akaashi was not laughing somehow made it even more funnier – made what funnier, you actually had no idea, though at this point you could hear how unhinged your laughter actually sounded. But you couldn’t hold it back, and you laughed until your belly ached, and tears formed on the corners of your eyes. 

You laughed until the laughter felt like acid burning up your throat, and the tightness of it made it difficult to breathe. The tears that pooled in your eyes now flowed freely down your cheeks, and there was no stopping it then, not when you choked out a sob, clutched at the fabric of Akaashi’s shirt and cried. While Akaashi rested one hand on the back of your head, and stroked small circles around your back with the other, you wept and you cried. Cried and cried and cried. 

Whatever restraint you’d been keeping against your heart was undone by the strength of Akaashi’s arms around you, and knowing that he was there to hold you together… it was enough to have you falling apart.

You don’t know how long the two of you stood in that kitchen for. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been a few hours. Akaashi didn’t falter, didn’t move a single inch. Through each shuddering sob, every heaving gasp for air, Akaashi had stayed. He waited until the shaking subsided, and your breathing evened out, and there was not a single tear left to cry. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you peeled yourself away from his embrace, wiping your entire face with the sleeve of your robe. You backed another step, and Akaashi met your swollen, red eyes with his own sunken, tired ones. He tried to smile at you, and tried extremely hard to seem like he wasn’t uncomfortable in his soaked shirt.

“Go change out of that thing,” you said by way of apology, cringing at the mess you’d left behind, “Please.”

For a second, you thought Akaashi might have argued with you. But then his eyes switched from you to the hallway then back again, before he nodded and darted to the direction of his bedroom. You breathed out a laugh and walked to the counter, grabbing a towel from beside the sink and wiping away the coffee grounds that dirtied your usually-immaculate kitchen. 

You were sweeping up the stray flecks that littered the floor when Akaashi came barrelling back into the kitchen. Before he said a single word, he snatched the broom violently from your hand.

“Hey, I was –”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, not when Akaashi practically shoves you into a seat at the dining table. 

“Stay,” he pointed a finger at you, and you quickly swallowed back the snarky comment you were prepared to throw out. Your eyes just silently followed Akaashi as he fussed around the kitchen, mopping the rest of the floor and shaking his head at you when he realized you’d already cleaned the counters. 

He grabbed your favorite mug – drying on the dish rack like it had just been washed after use – then turned to make you a cup of coffee. But when he touched the top of his fingers to the glass body of the pitcher, he frowned. Deeply. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“The coffee got cold again,” he grumbled, making you shoot out of your seat and scramble towards him when he yanked the decanter off the hot plate and headed to the sink.

“Stop!” you practically screeched, just barely making it in time to grip his wrist before he could fully pour the contents down the drain. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Akaashi just stared. “It’s cold now.”

“So?!” you looked at him like the roles have now been completely reversed, “We can just microwave it or something. You don’t need to throw the whole thing out.” You tried to pry the pitcher out of Akaashi’s hand, but he clutched on tightly.

“I wanted you to have fresh coffee,” he said simply, and you gaped. You looked at him for a second longer before your eyes flick back to the counter that you just cleaned up, and realization washed over you like a gentle shower. 

“Did you –” you paused for a second, unsure of how you were going to deal with this situation, “Have you been making a new pot of coffee each time it went cold?” 

Akaashi opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly clamped his lips down to press them into a thin line. You managed to grab the pitcher from Akaashi with no resistance, and rushed to place it back into its proper place on the machine. In your peripherals, you could see a crinkled bag, folded in half and tucked in a corner behind the coffee maker. 

“Is that…” you mumbled to yourself before quickly snatching the nearly empty bag from its hiding place, “Keiji!”

He winced slightly when you presented him with the evidence, coffee beans flying astray when you shake the bag in Akaashi’s face.

“I just got this bag, Keiji!” you groaned, lamenting the gallons of your favorite roast undoubtedly swirling through the drainpipes of Tokyo by now. You peeked into the bag, frowning when you saw that only about a fourth of the bag had been saved, “Now I have to wait until next month for the cafe to give me a free one.”

“I wanted you to have –”

“Fresh coffee. I got it,”  you sighed, placing two hands on each of Akaashi’s shoulders. Again, he showed no resistance when  you pushed him backwards and sat him on your empty chair. He opened his mouth to argue when you grabbed two mugs and poured in the cold coffee, but the glare you shot him was enough to make him shut it. You ignored his searing gaze as it trailed after your every movement, ignored it burning holes in your back while you microwaved the two mugs of coffee, ignored the burn in your throat at the pathetic way he watched you place one mug in front of him, and held the other as you took the empty seat across from him.

You gestured silently to the mug of coffee.

“Drink,” you ordered, and the word made Akaashi instantly grab the handle, “There’s only room for one mental breakdown in this apartment at a time. And I call dibs for today, okay?”

Akaashi couldn’t stop the laughter that broke free, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exasperated way he shook his head. When the two of you lifted your mugs, your eyes met for just a moment, and the smile you shared with your best friend might have been enough to heal your heart. 

Then, you took a sip of the coffee, and the moment the dark liquid hit your tongue, you had to fight the cringe, and pretend that the way he burnt this batch didn’t break your heart all over again.

“That’s…” you begin, searching for the words. You coughed instead of finishing your sentence.

Akaashi simply sighed. He reached a hand in his pocket, and pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching him slowly slide his fingers up and down the screen. 

He gives you a pointed look. “What’s it look like? I’m getting breakfast delivered.”

The sun looked just about ready to set by the time you and Akaashi decided to settle down. Empty take out boxes were piled in the proper compartments of the trash bin, and neither of you have bothered to clean up the crumbs all over the table. 

Breakfast had passed by silently, the both of you just content to be in each other’s presence, still sniffling as you shoved entire forkfuls of souffle pancakes from your favorite bakery. You shrieked with delight when you recognized the logo on the bag Akaashi retrieved from the delivery man. You didn’t even scold him for the insane delivery fee he probably had to pay for them to bring it all the way here. 

You just crushed him in a tight hug and accepted his kindness with a kiss on the cheek. He sighed in the way you imagined an older brother would about his annoying little sister, despite you being an entire year older. It made you chuckle, especially when he let you break his very strict “no eating in the living room” rule. 

If Akaashi had any questions or concerns about the events that transpired last night, he mercifully kept them all to himself. After breakfast, he dug out the kotatsu blanket from the storage closet, and – after screeching to Akaashi that he was banned from making any beverages for at least a month – you brewed some of his favorite green tea.

You laid under that kotatsu with Akaashi for hours, sipping on tea that had long turned lukewarm, talking about things that were of neither importance or relevance. You wasted away the entire day, it seemed, if the setting sun and ombre skies out the windows were of any indication. 

Akaashi sat across from you, his back leaning against the foot of the couch. The kotatsu blanket reached up to his waist, and his head lolled lazily to the side as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. You’d long thrown propriety out the window, though it never is in the room when you’re with Akaashi. You managed to snuggle yourself completely under the kotatsu table, the blanket skirt covering your body while using your seat cushion as a pillow. 

Akaashi had gone through tremendous effort to make this day feel as casual as last week’s Sunday morning. You had a niggling feeling that if you let him, then Akaashi would be very content in keeping you inside this bubble of safety and comfort that he’s curated specifically for you. He’d keep the problems that were waiting past these four walls at bay for as long as he possibly could. This, you knew without a shred of doubt. 

It was a kindness that you held closely to your heart. One that you knew was the type of kindness that didn’t boast, but wrapped itself around you gently and held you against its chest. The longer you looked at Akaashi, rubbing his finger against his nose and eyes glued to the screen, the more your heart swelled with that affection he generously poured into your cup. 

And you knew that because he’s loved you enough to create this bubble, you had to love him enough to pop yourself both out of it. 

“Keiji,” your voice felt hoarse from the silence, the words scratching at your throat, “Was I really that blind?”

Akaashi stilled almost imperceptibly, if you hadn’t known him for years, you probably would have missed it. He clicks the button on the side of his phone, and he gently places the black device on the table. He shuffles to move his seat cushion from beneath him and tosses it to the side, settling himself beneath the blanket before laying down to face you. 

“You weren’t blind, y/n.”

He said it so gently, probably worried that if he spoke any louder, then you would shatter. It softens your heart as much as it sends a spike of irritation through you.

“Dumb, then? Oblivious? Stupid? Naive? Either way you spin it, it still comes down to my faults, my…” your voice cracks, the traitorous thing, and you stopped to clear your throat, “What word would you use, then, Keiji?”

“Young. Afraid. Hurt,” He says with a lot more force and clarity than you expected, each word striking directly into your heart, “A whole lot of other words before stupid, actually. An entire dictionary’s worth.”

You wanted to wipe that look off his face, really. Eyes misting his usual blue to a foggy gray, and failing to stop his wretched mouth from quivering. How many more people in your life were you going to hurt? You felt pathetic.

You stay silent for a moment before starting, “Bokuto… he must have also been in a lot of pain,” you sighed, turning to supine and training your eyes to the popcorned ceiling, “Everything’s so… fucked up. And it’s all because of me and my stupid ignorance and –”

“Please, stop saying that,” Akaashi groaned loudly, balling a fist into his own hair. 

Exasperation floods through you like a tidal wave, it crashes through you viciously and your body shoots itself up into a sitting position before you could even think. You couldn’t hold back the glare at Akaashi before asking him with a bite, “Well, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi answers with a growl, maneuvering himself up to face you, his fists landing helplessly on the table, “but please, stop saying stuff like that, not when–” Akaashi sighed, bring two fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I knew about everything for… a long time.”

You shrugged carelessly as you replied, “Well, yeah. I know I never actually told you, but I thought you figured it out after… the equipment room incident.”

Akaashi pursed his lips together. “Oh, I did. But I wasn’t talking about just you.”

Your eyebrows lifted, opting to stay silent. Akaashi nibbled at his bottom lip in hesitancy, allowing him the time to process through whatever he clearly wanted to say. You brace yourself when you see him taking a slow, deep breath.

“With you, it was… so fucking obvious. And it wasn’t just because you followed him around, or laughed obnoxiously loud at his dumb jokes. If anybody looked at you for longer than five seconds, they’d see it on your face – clear as day. You looked at him like… I don’t know. Like he made all the flowers bloom, or painted the sunset with your favorite colors or something poetic like that.”

“That sounded pretty poetic to me,” you laugh, though it sounded hollow and despondent in its attempt to hide the gut punch Akaashi’s words delivered. Akaashi smiled ruefully, but he continued. 

“My point is – you never had to tell me. I knew it. You knew it. We all knew it. Your feelings were never the big secret you thought it was. Bokuto might have been the only person in this world that never picked up on it. And actually, there was a point in time when I genuinely thought he was ignoring them on purpose. Fuck, maybe he did. I never really figured it out. I don’t really think he ever did either. Because with Bokuto…”

Akaashi took the deep breath you’ve been holding the entire time he spoke, and he looked directly at you this time as he spoke.

“I knew he loved you. He loved you, maybe a bit more than he knew what to do with. God, if you only saw how he’d glare at any guy that tried to even look at you. They were ridiculous – hilariously vicious. He always did it behind your back, but it was about as subtle as a flashing neon sign. I don’t know how you never caught him.You followed him around, sure, but he made sure he kept you by his side, never letting you stray too far from him. Because if you weren’t next to him, then he was… lost. It’s stupid but– yeah, I think I knew he loved you, even before he knew it himself. And I could have told him. Should have told him. It would have been easy, quick – ‘Bokuto, Y/N is in love with you’. And he would have gone running. Well, nevermind. It might have taken him a couple days, but when it hit him… I don’t think anything in the world could have stopped him.”

Silver streaks on Akaashi’s face matched the warm tears that trickled down your own, and you tried to catch his gaze but at this point, he stared fixedly down at his lap. 

“Keiji…” you called out to him, somehow wrangling his name through the tightness of your throat, because you need him to look at you. Needed him to see that you didn’t blame him, would never even think to. But he doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he barrels on. 

“But I didn’t. Obviously. I kept my mouth shut, and just watched you two bumble around like idiots. It was, believe it or not, torturous for me. For the longest time, I kept my nose out of your business, because I know what it’s like to… Ahh,” He bows his head, and covers his eyes with the palm of his hand. It took a moment before he wiped his hand away and continued, “I did try once, though. With you. And I felt so completely iced out afterwards, I remembered exactly why I kept out of it for so long.”

He must have sensed the rebuttal at the tip of your tongue, but he interrupts you before you could even start.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I’m telling you this because… I was afraid too. I was scared that if I had kept pushing, then you would have pulled away from me completely. I was scared that Bokuto would think I was overstepping my boundaries. I was scared that it would work out, and the two of you would phase me out of your lives. I was scared it wouldn’t work out, and everything would be…”

His voice trailed off, so you softly finished for him, “Fucked up?”

He finally, finally looked at you then. You reached across the table and held his hand in yours. You felt him stiffen for a second before turning his hand and curling his own fingers around yours. A giggle of relief spills from your lips, and it elicits a chuckle from Akaashi, and the sound blooms within you.

“You guys are my best friends,” Akaashi said, his grip on you tightening just a fraction, “And I saw what you were putting each other through. I was watching it all happen in front of my own eyes. I should have done something more, right? If I had tried harder with you, if I just talked to Bokuto, if I bothered even just a little bit more to get over my shit and helped my friends…  Then this never would have happened. And Kuroo… God, Kuroo. He didn’t need me to do a damn thing, he just loved you but still I managed to fuck things up for him and –”

“Shut up!”

Akaashi started a little at your sudden outburst, but it achieved the desired effect. He blinked at you once, then twice. You almost felt a twinge of guilt at your lack of patience, considering all that Akaashi was beginning to unpack in front of you. But weren’t you the one that called dibs on the mental breakdown today? If he thought you were just going to sit there and listen to his blasphemy, then he’s sorely mistaken.

“Don’t you even try to blame any of it on yourself, Keiji,” you spat out, irritated, “How could you even say something so convoluted? How could you even think such a –”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Akaashi interrupts you fervently, as if desperate to get you to listen to him, “I let my fears hold me back, instead of facing it for the people that mattered to me. I’m just a coward.”

“No, Keiji. You’re not a coward. You…” You let out a heavy breath, all the sharpness in your tone now softening at Akaashi’s deep set frown, “Do you even have any idea how much you saved me? Even though things were… unspoken between us, I knew you understood me. Without me ever having to say a single word, you understood me. And you never judged me or tried to tell me I was wrong. You just… you just held my hand. No matter what happened, good or bad, if I looked to my side, I knew I would see you there. Do you think you’re the only person that notices the little things? I felt your support, and I felt your love. Even when you didn’t say it out loud.”

“But–”

“No more buts, I really don’t want to hear it. You weren’t the one responsible for us,” your eyes were hard, providing no room for arguments, “You were just a kid. What could you have even done? You saw how stubborn I was being! Do you really think I would have listened? You were young, and afraid, and didn’t know any –”

Too late. The words flew out of your mouth quickly, you didn’t even think twice about it. Your guard was down, and you knew that was the most dangerous thing around Akaashi Keiji. Because too slowly did you realize the trap he laid out in front of you. And as the words slipped past your lips, you realized you were already too late. Akaashi was already looking at you with that smug grin.

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“No, it’s not,” He chuckled at you as if you weren’t staring daggers at his soul right now, “But if you can afford me that much grace, then I think you owe the same to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. You won’t meet a single person that doesn’t have any regrets. But you can’t let those feelings define you. Only improve you. I know you’re feeling… a lot of shit right now that I probably can’t even begin to process. But it’s what you do with those feelings that matter.” He propped an elbow on the table, and rested his chin in the palm of his halls. “Are you gonna let it keep you down?”

You felt a little stunned, and though Akaashi’s words were simple, you could feel them find their mark. Hot tears pricked at the corner of your eyes yet again, and you didn’t look away from Akaashi as you let them fall. Still, you crossed your arms indignantly and pouted. “I can’t help but feel like I fell for some dirty trick.”

Akaashi laughed this time, waving his hand to beckon you closer to him. You begrudgingly moved from your spot, ignoring the ache in all your joints from your lack of movement, and crawled to sit beside Akaashi. He lifted the kotatsu skirt for you to settle under before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Dirty trick or not, as long as it gets the point across.”

“I understand, Keiji. I do, but still,” you sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “It’s difficult not to feel foolish.”

“I know,” Akaashi said as he laid his cheek against your crown, “I know. Fools in love, right?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you chose not to say anything. The lull in conversation allowed you the time to process his words, closing your eyes to feel everything you’d been avoiding the entire day. With a deep inhale, and a slow exhale, you silently search for the strength to let it all go. 

A buzz on the table catches your attention. Akaashi makes a point to ignore the notification, even more so when it buzzes again. 

The sight of his phone only served to remind you of your own, sitting dead and silent somewhere in the corner of your room for the entire day, of the calls that went straight to voicemail, of the messages that are unanswered – of the two men on the other side of line, waiting to see which way their world is about turn. 

“Have you heard from…” 

Akaashi lets out a snort through his nose. “Oh, yes, I have. I’m probably dead for ignoring all the calls and texts. But I needed to make sure you were alright before I answered anything.”

You chuckle, moving out of Akaashi’s one-armed embrace and sitting up to face him fully. “I love you, Keiji. I’d pick you if you were in love with me too, you know. What do you say? Wanna throw a towel in the ring?”

Akaashi laughed, loud and brash and genuine, and for the first time that day, you actually believed that everything will be alright. “I love you too, y/n. But I’d rather die.”

You nudged him hard with your elbow before standing up, leaving Akaashi to rub the sore spot while you stretched out your sore limbs. “I guess it’s time to stop hiding now, right?”

“Yeah…” Akaashi trails off, and you wait for him to ask the question you could see had been brewing in his mind for hours, “What are you gonna do?”

The question shoots a pang of loneliness through you. Because no matter what decision you make, everything will change. Your friendships will not walk away unscathed, and there will never be going back to the way things were. This was irrefutable, and that thought alone should terrify you, should make you want to scramble back on your knees and beg the gods to turn back time. Yet, it doesn’t. 

No, instead you’re filled with a sense of clarity that you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before. It pained you to know that you’ll hurt the people that matter to you the most, but not as much as it would pain you to know that you weren’t being true to yourself. 

It was time for you to choose your own happiness.

“Nothing’s changed for me, Keiji. I’ve always known what I was gonna do. Whether this truth came out or stayed hidden forever… my answer is going to be the same.” You smiled sadly as you spoke to Akaashi, and he offered nothing but an understanding nod, “From now on, for me, it’s always going to be him.”

✧: @kawaii-angelanne @boosyboo9206 @theglitterypages @rntrsuna @vinsmouke @chi-anpan @jinadamsel @kowalsqq @arcorjoan @galaxyfloater3

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[tickle-minion]

After the Christmas Party

What happens when you get a little too drunk at the office Christmas party and a tickle-phile is the one who brings you home? Jay is about to find out! Other than being a little kidnappy, this is SFW.

-----

With his head swimming, Jay slowly started to wake up, but he didn't know what exactly had happened, where he was, or how he got there. The last thing he remembered was having a good time at the office Christmas party and his co-worker Dan helping him into the car. He didn’t normally drink too much, but with wine and beer and hard liquor (whiskey being Jay’s favourite) everywhere and all of the senior partners encouraging everyone to enjoy themselves, Jay decided to let loose and live a little.  The pounding headache he had told him exactly how much he'd been drinking the night before.

Something was wrong, though. This wasn't his house… there was tape over his mouth… he was tied up… and his bare feet were propped up on a footstool.  Jay tried to stand up and wiggle free from the bonds but his head was still pounding and his stomach felt like he might be sick.  Just how much had he had to drink?!

"Oh, you're awake?" Jay’s coworker Dan said as he walked into the room. Jay instantly knew something was wrong: Day was just wearing an old tee shirt and a pair of boxers.

Jay tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth except for a muffled garble. As he tried to speak he realized that there was something in his mouth. His tongue pushed up against it, trying to find out just whatever it was.  It felt like it was some kind of fabric that tasted sort of salty.

"Sorry about the sock gag, I just didn't want you to scream if you woke up before I did."

Jay’s stomach rolled again.  He was tasting his own sock?  Disgusting.  Jay tried yelling through the sock in his mouth but it was useless.

Dan walked over and ran a hand across Jay’s tied and propped bare feet. Jay could feel Dan's hungry eyes taking the feet in.

"Ever since you made junior partner, I've had my eyes on you. Especially the provocative way you slip your shoes off in the office when you think no one is looking. Believe me... I noticed and I was looking."

Dan sat down beside the tied feet and took them into his hands. Jay tried to kick back, tried to fight to keep this pervert’s hands off his feet, but he couldn't save himself or do anything as Dan began massaging his feet.  Dan’s hands felt strong and confident, not the hands of someone who felt bad that he was taking advantage of a coworker in a very intimate way.

"We're going to have some fun, you and I, and if you say anything about it to anyone I'll see that you're knocked down by the office assistant so fast your head will spin, got it?"

There was nothing Jay could do. Not only was Dan his superior at work, but being tied and vulnerable like this meant that the ball was in Dan's court. With angry and defiant eyes he nodded to Dan, submitting to whatever he had planned.

"Good," Jay purred as his hands continued to grope the bound feet, massaging the broad soles and rolling the toes around between his fingers.

"I got some amazing toys I want to use on these puppies, give you a solid workout. What do you say?"

There was nothing he could do in this situation, so Jay just hung his head in defeat.

"That's a good boy, giving in like that. Makes what's going to happen to you all the easier."

Jay left the room and returned a few minutes later with a silver tray. There were all sorts of items on the tray, from hair brushes, electric toothbrushes, scrubbers, feathers, and some baby oil.  Jay wasn’t completely sure what all of this stuff was for but he had the strong suspicion he wasn’t going to like it.  He curled his toes wondering just what was in store for him and his feet.  His eyes lingered on the feathers for a moment.  Surely Dan wasn’t going to… tickle him?  Was he?  That’s not something that people actually did with feathers… was it?

"Let's see just how ticklish you are, and if you squeal nicely enough for me, maybe we'll only do this once or twice a week going forward, hmm?"

Why oh why did he ever slip his shoes off in the office?  If he knew some pervert was going to be watching him because of that he would have kept his shoes tightly on his feet.

“Just a little test tickle, what do you say?”

Dan picked up one of the hair brushes from the tray and brought it to Jay’s foot.  He teased with the brush, running just the very tips of the bristles up and down Jay’s tied soles, giving just a sneak peek of what was to come.  Jay struggled, trying to pull his feet away, but couldn’t escape.

The speed and the force of the tickling picked up.  The brush would travel up and down the bare sole.  First the brush stopped at the smooth heel, scrubbing vigorously back and forth.  This tickled more than Jay expected it would, causing the tied up young man to giggle continuously behind his sock gag.  The brush continued up and stopped at the toes this time.  The man grabbed the toes, pulled them back, and started brushing the sensitive skin right under the toes.

Jay wasn’t giggling this time.  This time, he threw his head back and started to cackle behind his sweaty sock gag.  The sensation was intense, and his legs were vibrating as he tried desperately to pull his feet away.  He tried to curl up his toes, but Dan was holding them too tightly.

Dan continued tickling Jay like this, up and down the sole, scrubbing the heel, and attacking the base of the toes.  It felt like hours had passed.  Jay was sweating in his suit, drool was dribbling out of his mouth, and tears were rolling down his cheeks.  He’d never felt so completely broken in his entire life.

Finally the brushing stopped and Jay’s entirely body relaxed.  

“Well, that was a good test tickle… what do you say we try the… harder stuff?”

Dan grabbed a long straight feather from the tray.  Jay’s eyes went wide and he started thrashing his head back and forth.  This was about to become a lot worse.

His superior brought the feather to Dan’s broad sole and started flicking with it.  It didn’t tickle as much as the brush did, but Jay could feel it.  It was this fleeting touch, just at the edge of his feet.  It felt… weird.  Unfortunately it Jay wasn’t giving the reaction that Dan wanted.

“Not too feather ticklish?  That’s fine.  Let’s try it between the toes”

The feather was suddenly flossed between his big and second toe.  Jay jumped.  Holy shit, that actually tickled.  Dan grinned and did it again, making Jay jump again in his restraints.  

“Hmm, this seems better, doesn’t it?”

Dan moved down the line, dragging the feather between Jay’s ticklish toes.  Jay tried to curl them to keep the feather out, but Dan would just grab them and force them open.  Soon Jay stopped fighting back and gave into the toe tickling.  The feather kept flossing between toes, first one foot then the other, over and over again.  Jay was laughing and trying to pull his feet away.  Jay, who always thought himself pretty tough and manly, was being reduced to a giggling and laughing mess by nothing more than a feather.

The feather kept its torment going for several minutes.  By the end of the torture Jay’s feet had started to sweat, making the feather glide even easier between his squirming toes.  Jay’s entire body slumped when the feather finally gave it’s last swipe.

“You’re doing good, kid.  You’re doing real good.  How are we feeling so far?”

Jay didn’t have the energy to fight or yell anymore.  He just hung his head and mumbled something into his sock.

Dan put away the feather and pulled up the electric toothbrush and the bottle of baby oil.  Opening the bottle, Dan held it over Jay’s feet and just let the oil dribble down over the tops of his toes, watching as it ran down.  To Jay it felt almost pleasant.  A nice cooling sensation on his hot feet.  Dan massaged his tied feet again, this time working the baby oil into the soles, covering the toes, and of course between each and every single toe.  Jay hated to admit it, but after all the torment he’d been through, this actually felt nice.  Dan must have been able to tell (probably because Jay stopped fighting and went to mush in his hands) and chuckled.

“You think this feels nice, huh?  Wait until you meet my little friend here.”

Jay watched as Dan picked up the electric toothbrush.  He turned it on and off, revving it like a manic welds a chainsaw.

“Let’s introduce you, shall we?”

#male tickling #male feet story #tickling #gay tickling #male foot story #tickle community #tickle kink #tickle story #sock gagged

[anonymooseforever007]

Chocolate Pie

(Michael Gray x Reader)

Summary: After running out of Ada’s house, Y/N realises she forgot her bag at Ada's house after her escape. But will Ada even be there to hand it over or will someone else open the door? In which Polly’s plan come to play.

A/N: Hi y'all! So there's still no TWs I think. This is the shorter second part because I couldn't figure out how connect them properly. More Michael in this, but again he's a bit OC probably. This is written as if he hadn't been taken by his own ambition and is still more of the farm boy he was in S2 if that makes sense! I hope y'all enjoy❤️

WC- 2.1k

Part 1

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 47 minutes.... 

It had taken 47 minutes for Y/N to get back to Ada's house despite the walk usually only taking 5 max. Really, it had taken her about 4 minutes, half a block, and a quick corner turn before remembering her forgotten items. The remaining time was spend debating if it was really worth it. Maybe her brother actually replaced the spare key under the plant? Probably not. Ada and Polly seems really busy with the cookies, Y/N shouldn't bother them any more? Damn, it didn't take two people to take cookies out of the oven. Did it? Back and forth, back and forth, Y/N's brain went. Was it better to give up today or should she suck it up and get over her embarrassment today? Who's to say? 

In the end Y/N remembered that there was still chocolate pie from last week left in the fridge. She decided that chocolate pie was a better way to fix her mortification than any meal she could get from what ever hotel she'd be staying at otherwise. A chocolate pie... all for herself. 

After she was set on getting her pie it took about three minutes to make it back to Ada's house and now Y/N was standing once again at the front steps. She did notice that, luckily, Mel's car was still gone so maybe she wouldn't have to face him again. At least so soon. Maybe one day. But after what occurred not even an hour ago "maybe one day" was far too soon......

However, the universe seemed to decide that too soon was not soon enough. And Y/N would quickly learn that when the door was opened.

"Really? It's only been like 15 minutes Ada. Just because Karl needed stitches last time I wa... You."

Michael Gray stood in Ada's door staring at the women he had been thinking of for the past couple hours. And she stared back highly debating if she should shut the door and run again.... But she still really wanted that pie.

"Keys."

"What?"

"Sorry. Hi, I forgot my bag here and it has my keys to get into my house. You wouldn't mind if I grabbed it and got out would you?" Y/N asked, slightly peering over his shoulder to look for the bag she swore she left on the couch. 

"Yeah sure, that's fine." Micheal agreed, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way. As Y/N passed him she noticed he wasn't wearing his suit jacket any more or his vest, opting for only his under shirt and trousers. He wasn't wearing any shoes either and Y/N could hear the faint sound of a tub running upstairs. If he hadn't told her otherwise earlier Y/N would have though he was getting ready for bed. 

Making their way to the couch Y/N reached down to grab her bag, ready to leave again. But for some reason her beloved pack wasn't there. Nor was it on the floor by the couch or near any of the other chairs in the living room. Which was odd because Y/N always like to put her bag in the same place every time she came over so she wouldn't forget where it was. But it wasn't there. 

"On second thought maybe it's in the kitchen I'll look there." Nope, the dark green bag wasn't in the kitchen or in the hallway or even in the bathroom that Y/N hadn't stepped foot in. It was as if it was never even at the house in the first place. Which was even more problematic because Y/N knew she had it when getting ice cream and on the way back since Karl kept playing with the straps. So where did the bag go? She'd have to ask Michael for help. Which mean she'd have to face him again.

"Hey Mel? I don't want to bother you but you haven't seen a green bag with brown straps around here have you? I can't seem to find it and I swear I had it when I came in." Y/N had decided to use the name Mel in reference to the Gray man. It made it easier to pretend what happened earlier didn't happen. Bedsides she liked the name Mel and he didn't seem to mind her using it either. 

"No I haven't seen a bag like that, but if you want I can help look." Michael had run up stairs to turn off the faucet upstairs before coming back down and placing himself in the living room. Normally, if someone he's didn't know well was in his cousin's house he'd be suspicious of them looking around and follow them. But Y/N seemed close enough to Ada it didn't seem like a problem. Besides if he followed her into the next room she might think he was a creep he supposed. After all, they had only met a few hours ago and what woman wanted a unfamiliar man filling their every step. 

Besides if he was in a different room than her, he wouldn't have to make conversation again. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but Michael was slightly embarrassed about how he opened the door. He thought it was Ada and if he'd know it was her friend he'd have made sure to say something else. Something he thought was not as dumb as what he actually opened with. Something that didn't imply he'd hurt the little boy Ada's friend seemed so smitten with. In reality, it have been Karl's own fault he'd decided to slide down the stairs in a laundry bin when Michael went to the bathroom for extra padding. Okay, maybe Michael had been the one to show him HOW to do it, but he did tell the boy to wait until the floor was softer. And in the end Karl only need three stitches in the back of his head and you couldn't even see the scar! Though, the only reason Michael didn't have a scar of his own from when Ada found out is because John grabbed her around the waist and picked her off the ground before she could reach the knives. But Y/N didn't know that....hopefully. Michael though she might hate him if she figured that out, and he didn't want her that. Having only been in Small Heath for a year or two he hadn't quite caught on to his cousins' ability to sweet talk their way out of trouble. 

Michael ran a hand through his hair trying to make it look neat again, as well as his hands down his front to straighten his shirt. Would it be weird if he put on his vest again? He liked the way he looked in his vest. However, before he could decide, Y/N had called from the other room and was asking for his help. Evidently, he would have to talk to her again. Hopefully this time he wouldn't say anything dumb.

"Where did you see it last?" Michael asked coming into the kitchen where Y/N was crouched down checking under the table again.

"Well, I could have sworn it was on the couch, but now I can't find it." 

"Alright I'll help look."

And look they did. They searched the kitchen and the hallway and the living room again. Y/N checked the hall closet while Michael check the bathroom. Michael had even run upstairs and spent a few minutes in the dark rummaging around a sleeping Karl's room incase he'd snuck away with it. Their search was accomplished in silence with only a passing "not here" or "have you tried..." as the two moved locations. After 15 minutes it was evident the pack wasn't in the house. But where could it be?

The answer came a few minutes later when Y/N, searching the living room again picked up a pillow, noticed a note lying exactly where she usually put her stuff. Reading it, she groaned and rolled her head to the ceiling making a mental note to give Karl a whole chess pie next time he was over. Michael hearing the noise came into the room thinking Y/N had been hurt.

"Are you alright?"

"Here read this." Y/N passed the note to her companion, trying to ignore how his warm fingers brushed hers when taking the note. 

"Y/N. I noticed you left your bag, but Polly is persistent that we leave now. Since it has your house keys, Polly and I are going to drop it off at your house on our way over. If you aren't there yet we'll give it you on our way back. Love, Ada. P.S. Michael- Be more than an ass.," Michael read aloud getting more confused as the letter went on. 

If Ada and Polly planned on dropping the bag off at Y/N's place then why would the leave a note here? And since Y/N was back here, his family had obviously made it to the club without seeing her. Now Y/N would be stuck here for a few hours unless she wanted to spend the time sitting outside her own steps. Also, he didn't understand why Ada was telling him not to be an ass. Had he already offended Y/N when they met earlier? The way Ada had worded the note was also weird, but he was more concerned about her friend not liking him. He knew by now that he liked her or at least he was more interested in knowing her than the others girls he'd met recently. She was nice and pretty and good with Karl. That was truly about the extent he knew, but that was enough for Michael to realise he wanted to know more.

Brought out of his thoughts by a head thud, Michael turned and saw Y/N, forehead against the wall mumbling to herself. He thought he caught something about "killing Ada" and stupid plan" and "chess pie"? But he wasn't sure. Did he really make such a bad impression that the idea of being in the same house as him for a few hours was concussion worthy? Shit. Moving closer to the women, he stuck out his hand and hesitantly placed it in her shoulder. He began to speak to her as one would a scared child or dog. If she really was anything like his cousin, she'd be more likely to attack when frustrated. He didn't want the woman do dislike him more be believed than she already did.

"Hey Y/N. You alright? I know this isn't what you had planned tonight. You can stay here and make yourself comfortable until Ada gets back. I'm sure she had a few books you can look though. I can go upstairs if you don't want me around."

Y/N's head came up from the wall and she turned to meet his eyes. His hand didn't leave her shoulder and she didn't make an attempt to move it. Nor did he. Taking a breath and deciding to take a chance Y/N gathered her courage again.

"I'm alright," she laughed nervously trying to blow off her nerves," I just wasn't expecting all this to happen and it's fine now. And thanks for letting me stay here. I don't really want to sit on my steps in the dark for a few hours waiting. Especially if it may rain. And you can stay down here if you want. It's not a bother at all. It was nice talking earlier." The last part was slightly mumbled, but still heard by the young man who suddenly felt a weight lift from his shoulders and he smiled. A full smile this time not just half one like he'd given her earlier. So she didn't hate him. That was good. Michael was still slightly curious to why she decided to face plant anyway, but he could ask that later. 

"Alright then why don't we head to the kitchen then darling? I think Ada made some cookies earlier with my mum we can have. There's a bottle of whiskey there too. Then we can go to the living room, it'll probably be the best place to be is Karl wakes up," Michael commented, testing the waters with the endearment while also praying the Karl would absolutely not wake up until morning. Then pushing his luck farther he stuck out his arm jokingly towards Y/N.

"Shall we?" 

The woman laughed, this time it wasn't caused by nerves, 

"Stealing and Drinking? Why yes I think we shall," she replied taking his arm. 

And with that they headed towards the living room. Though they both came from different backgrounds and different routines, in the end they were both the same thing. Two young people as eager as they were nervous to know more about the other.... 

...

"Oh by the way. Mel, why didn't you go out to the club with Ada and your Mum? I thought you were going with them tonight and your car's gone?"

"Apparently I don't have the tits for it."

#Peaky Blinders imagine #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #peaky blinders x reader #Michael gray #peaky blinders

[theboywithburninghands]

Hello! I have brought to you today what is perhaps the sweetest and pile-of-sugariest Jesterbunnydoll chapter I have ever written. I spent all of today working on it. And I think it came out good! Definitely pure fluff and fun, no horror or heavy themes this time (apart from Pomni being a little upset she's short). Also features an important milestone in these stories that I won't spoil. Hope you like it, I had a blast writing it. T/W: None :D Lake Hair, Don't Care

Pomni was never thrilled with her appearance in the Circus. Sure, everyone around here looked ridiculous, it was a cartoon after all… But it was a lot easier to notice how dumb she looked when she was in a swimsuit. 

It wasn’t anything revealing, just a one piece swimsuit, neatly divided into red and blue vertically (of course), but… ugh, it just highlighted everything wrong with her proportions. Her arms were gangly and a size too long, and her bulbous head shouldn’t have been supported by her stick of a body. 

Pomni observed these things as she looked in the mirror in her room. She supposed it was a little entitled of her to complain about how she looked when Caine had actually let her wear a different outfit other than her little jester costume (sans her coxcomb hat, but that was now removable as well, and her shoes, which were swapped with a pair of aquadynamic ones). This was his way of apologizing after the whole House of Tricks fiasco. 

There was a knock on the door. 

Ragatha: Hey Pomni, you ready? Jax is already down at the beach. 

Pomni: *swallows* Yeah, here I come…

The jester took another moment to look herself over, blowing a raspberry through her lips before traipsing to the door and opening it up. 

Ragatha: Hey, there she is! Oh my gosh, look at you..! Ragatha put her hands together and beamed down at Pomni’s new outfit. The doll woman was in a one-piece swimsuit as well, the same indigo as the darker cloth patches on her usual dress. She was missing her hair bow and her shoes and socks, her feet unsurprisingly ending with no toes. Pomni thought she wore the swimsuit better, given her more humanoid proportions. 

Pomni: *weak smile* You look nice. 

Ragatha: So do you, hun! *tilts her head* Are you keeping the hat on in the lake?

Pomni: Oh. No, I can take it off now.

Pomni removed her cap. Her black hair stuck out in a few places, but overall kept to its bob-cut shape. Ragatha’s eye glimmered at the sight, and her mouth was open in a silent gasp of delight. 

Pomni: I know, I know… I look cute. I was hoping this outfit made me look… I dunno. Prettier?  

Ragatha crouched down to Pomni’s level with a gentle smile. Before the jester could utter another word, Ragatha planted a soft kiss on her lips, her cheeks dusted with pink. 

Ragatha: You’re the prettiest girl in the circus. 

Pomni: *red-faced but smiling* Funny. I only see one pretty girl around here. 

Ragatha: Is that what you say to the mirror every morning?

Pomni laughed sheepishly at the doll’s compliments and buried her face in her shoulder to hide her scorching blush, Ragatha scooping her girlfriend up in a hug. 

Ragatha: I mean it, you look incredibly pretty. Jax is gonna flip when he sees you. 

Pomni: Ha. He’ll probably say I belong in The Lollipop Guild. 

Ragatha: If he does, tease him right back. Have you seen what Caine gave him to wear? He looks like a candy cane. 

Pomni: *giggles* Really?

Ragatha: Trust me babe, just wait. Anyway, you know he loves you. He’s just shy about it. Come on!

Ragatha led her girlfriend out of the hallway into the stage area.

Pomni: You know, he feels the same way about you.

Ragatha: Psssh, come on, he and I have been bickering with each other for years now. 

Pomni: Yeah, I know. I remember how he acted when I first got here. But… I dunno, I think something is different. 

Ragatha: You sure he’s not just trying to stay out of trouble for your sake?

Pomni: Well, maybe at first… I don’t know. I feel like… You ever look at someone you know really well, and you can just… tell something’s changed? Not necessarily in a bad way, but… ugh, it’s-it’s hard to explain. 

Ragatha: No, no, I totally get it. It’s a really valuable skill. 

The two women left the tent and headed out onto the grounds.

Pomni: I don’t remember much of anything about outside, but I feel like this is sort of normal for me. It’s really fuzzy, but I think I had a lot of trouble with that. Back in uh… reality. Unless I was really close to someone I couldn’t… tell what they were thinking? But if I knew someone, like, knew knew someone, I was really in tune with how they felt. Almost to a fault…

Ragatha: *she thinks for a little while* Hm. I don’t know what I would call that. I know I like to help with people’s problems, but I’m not a qualified shrink. Maybe it’s like a hyperfixation?

Pomni: Huh?

Ragatha: A hyperfixation. Like I said, I’m not a professional, but… Oh, hold that thought. Hey Jax! Ragatha waved eagerly at the beach by the lake. Jax had already set up three lounge chairs for them under a large, cerulean umbrella. The rabbit crouched down, out of sight behind the chairs save for his long purple ears. 

Jax: Yeah, hey, what’s up. Where did I put that stupid thing..?

Jax climbed to his feet, hands on his hips. Pomni bit hard on her lower lip. Ragatha’s comparison to a candy cane was right on the money. Jax was in a one piece swimsuit like the girls, but one of those old fashioned ones with polo stripes. Pinkish-red and white horizontal stripes went from his hips to his shoulders. 

Ragatha: Did you lose something? Jax: Nah, I musta put it- *he turns, sees Pomni and looks at her silently for moment* …Weeell, look at you, Pompom.~

Jax’s usual half-lidded grin spread across his face. Pomni felt her face scorch again and she looked away, suddenly very interested in counting grains of sand. 

Pomni: Don’t call me Pompom…

Jax: You look great. *he snaps his fingers* Oh! I remember where I put it. 

Jax knelt down beside one of the lounge chairs and groped about under it. Ragatha beamed and gave Pomni a quick “told-you-so” elbow, the jester smiling and mouthing for her to be quiet.

Ragatha: So how’s the water, Jax? 

Jax: *stands up and dusts off his bathing suit, turning to the girls* I dunno. You tell me. 

Ragatha was doused with a vaporous jet of water, letting out an alarmed shriek. Pomni jolted and took a few steps back, looking from Ragatha to Jax. The rabbit held a bulky plastic water gun, orange with steely gray trim, in his left hand, his right on the gun’s pneumatic pump. His grin almost reached his ears as he pumped the gun a few times and took aim at Pomni. 

Pomni: JaaaAAAX! The jester made a clumsy but effective attempt at a dodge roll behind the lounge chairs, the plastic gun’s cone of water mostly ending spraying all over the chairs. 

Jax: Aww, Pomni! Look what you made me do! 

Jax began to pump again, but his follow-up volley was stopped by a pair of damp ragdoll arms seizing him about the torso and hoisting him up off his feet. 

Ragatha: So you wanna play like that, little man?~ 

Ragatha marched into the water, holding Jax like a squirming, six foot toddler. 

Jax: Hey Rags, c’mon, I was gonna give you a turn too, hey, WAIT, RAGATHA-!

Pomni peered out from over the lounge chairs, just in time to see Ragatha flash a grin of mock malice and toss Jax into the lake, the rabbit hitting the water like a bag of rocks and sending a geyser of water up into the air. Ragatha then held her nose and hopped into the deeper water, sinking under the surface. Her mane of red yarn hair vanished into the blue water in a hiss of bubbles, resurfacing in about three or four seconds.

Ragatha: Phew! It’s actually so much better when you’re already a little wet. It feels great!

Jax resurfaced not long after Ragatha, his demeanor more like a wet cat than a wet rabbit. 

Jax: Oh yeah, I sure wish I had that luxury. 

Ragatha smirked, picking up the squirt gun floating in the water and aiming it one-handed at Jax, spraying him point blank with a cone of mist. 

Jax: ACK-! Hey!

Ragatha: Whoopsie-daisy, how did that happen?~ *turning to Pomni* Hey, jump in, Pomni! It’s super refreshing!

Jax: Yeah, it’s only freezing until your nerves go into shock… 

Pomni gulped. She put her coxcomb hat on one of the lounge chairs. Nothing to be afraid of, just a little… water. Very cold water. She clenched her teeth and ran across the sand, making a steady groan of anticipation as her water shoes splashed in the shallow water. Her groan crescendoed into a squeal as she took a flying leap at the deep water, Ragatha and Jax both covering their faces to avoid getting drenched further.There was a splash and a whirlwind of bubbles. The deep blue lakewater engulfed her and she felt its chill set in. It was cold! But juuust teetering on the edge of too cold, a pleasant middle ground between brisk and comfortable. She resurfaced and spouted some water. 

Pomni: Oh-! Oh, this… this is… nice! It’s cold but… it hits the spot! 

Ragatha: Right? I forgot how good this feels! Ragatha sank backwards into the water and closed her eye with a content sigh, her braids of yarn drifting lazily on the surface. Pomni felt an unpleasant pang of self-consciousness when she realized that her boyfriend and girlfriend had no issue standing in this part of the lake while she still needed to tread water… although it was immediately quashed when she felt a blast of water vapor gush against the back of her head. 

Pomni: JAX! 

Jax: *holding the water gun* Whaaaat? You’re already wet. 

Pomni: Grrr… gimme that thing! Pomni dove for the water gun, Jax holding it over his head like an older student dangling a younger student’s milk money just out of reach. 

Jax: Oops, gotta be quicker than that. *winks*

Pomni furrowed her brow and sank into the water until she felt her feet touch the lakebed, pushing off of it with enough momentum to leap up and lock her legs around Jax’s torso. 

Jax: Woah-ho! *sways due to the extra weight* Easy there, slothgirl! 

Pomni: Give me the gun, Jax! Pomni reached her hand up towards the gun Jax still held out of reach, her fingers just barely able to brush the wet plastic. Jax, realizing the jester’s face was just about flush with his, grinned deviously. In a blink, he pressed his wet lips to hers. 

Pomni: MNN-! …Mmm. 

Pomni’s squeak of protest became a warm hum as she gladly accepted this little surprise. She wrapped her arms around Jax’s neck and deepened the kiss, the rabbit lowering his arms to support his girlfriend better. Ragatha put a hand to her mouth, laughing and turning slightly pink.

Ragatha: No complaints here. 

Pomni, opening one eye to check if Jax was fully immersed in their kiss. Upon seeing both of his eyes were closed, a tiny smirk crept to the corners of her mouth and she sprung her trap. Using her full weight, she suddenly pulled backwards towards the lake, yanking Jax, whose eyes shot open, face first under the water. Pomni wriggled free of his arms and weight and grabbed the water gun, giving it a few hasty pumps once she resurfaced and taking aim at Jax as he re-emerged from the lake, wiping blue water out of his eyes. He realized that he had been cornered and sighed, rolling his eyes and holding up his hands in surrender. 

Jax: Alright, alright, shoot your shot. Just don’t go for the face, yeah?

Pomni leveled the water gun, squinting one eye for a better shot…

Pomni: Nah. *tosses the gun aside# I’ve got hands. *she rears back and pushes the water forward, sending a small wave right at Jax’s face*

Jax: Gah-! Oh, you just made a huge mistake.. *he makes a fist, covers it with the other hand and gives a mighty slam to the lake in front of him, causing a massive burst of water to soak both Pomni and Ragatha* Pomni: ACK-! Ragatha: HEY, you got me with that one! Jax: Oh, I’m sooo sorry, my aim is just terrible… *he blinks innocently*

Pomni and Ragatha shared looks of annoyance, then turned to leer at Jax. 

Jax: Uh. Cr@%. 

Jax was promptly beset with a torrent of water from both Pomni and Ragatha. Sheet after sheet of blue lakewater hit the rabbit as he held his hands out in a feeble attempt to stop the deluge of splashes. 

Jax: Come ooon, two on one ain’t fair!

Jax took one of the arms currently blocking his face and held it out lengthwise beside him, dipping his hand into the water. With a grunt of effort, he spun in a full circle, water flying out in a crescent moon in front of him and hitting both girls, who cried out with delight as they were doused in water. 

Jax: Free for all rules. No more alliances. Fair? 

Ragatha: Fair. *she promptly splashes Pomni*

Pomni: HEY- why you-! 

Jax: Ahhhh, I love the smell of anarchy in the morning… *hit in the face by a rogue splash# EGH- pbbbbt…

—

The splash war ended up only being about a half hour of the three performers’ time in the lake. The rest of the time was spent in a pleasant cycle of air-drying on the lounge chairs, then getting back in the water once they were completely dry so they could feel the refreshing embrace of the lake in full once again. They repeated this routine until the sky had turned cotton-candy pink in the sunset. They toweled off, packed up their things, and headed back to the tent. They were tired yet merry, and ready to spend the rest of the evening relaxing. 

Pomni: …That was great. Thank you so so much, you guys.This is the happiest I’ve felt in… well… I think it might be the happiest I’ve ever been here. 

Ragatha: Aw, Pomni… I had a great time too. We should do something like this again sometime soon. 

Jax: I’m with Rags. In between the LARPing, we should find time for just… us. Doesn’t have to be at the lake. 

Pomni: I don’t really have a way to repay you guys, but…

Pomni stood on her tiptoes and pecked Jax on the cheek, then Ragatha. 

Pomni: …I’ll remember today for the rest of my life.

Pomni’s voice wavered ever so slightly before she went into her bedroom. Jax rubbed the spot where Pomni kissed him reverently. His chest felt tight, but it ached in a good way. 

Ragatha: So, what are you gonna do the rest of tonight? 

Jax: Eh. Who knows. I feel like I could go straight to sleep. 

Ragatha: Yeah… end today now while it’s still perfect, right?

Jax: …You know? I think I’m willing to take one more risk. 

Ragatha: Is that right? *she smirks, raising an eyebrow* What kind of risk? Jax: Yeah. I dunno. Something like this?

Jax closed the distance between them. He kept a calm expression, but internally his heart pounded like a broken washing machine. He slowly but deliberately reached out a hand towards Ragatha’s cheek. She could tell him to stop whenever she wanted and he would. But she didn’t tell him to stop. 

Her cheek was plush, her fabric-like skin a little rough from the lakewater. It was… warm. Ragatha gently leaned her cheek into his touch. His composure began to slip. 

Jax: Didn’t- Didn’t think I’d get this far… eheh… 

Ragatha: So now that you have gotten this far. What are you going to do?

Jax: Uh… wh-what did you want me to do..? 

Ragatha: Hmm. *she smiled and took Jax’s hand off of her cheek* I dunno. I guess next time you should plan further ahead. Ragatha turned to walk away, leaving Jax standing in the middle of the hall, his hand still half-raised. The doll paused, then turned back to the rabbit.  

Ragatha: But, just a suggestion? She pressed her lips to his, popping her foot out girlishly, ending the kiss with a short and chaste “chu~” sound Ragatha: For next time, something like that might be good. 

Ragatha trotted back to her room, this time actually leaving Jax standing in the middle of the hallway. He licked his lips, stood staring for a moment longer, then walked back to his room.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #buttonblossom #bunnydoll #tadc jax #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #jax x pomni #pomni x ragatha #jax x ragatha #oh no cringe #fluff #autistic pomni