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#it was one of my comfort mangas what happened
bishounen-jump · 11 months
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haven't you guys read the ouran high school host club manga
the show has NOTHGIN on the manga i'm serious
tamaki x haruhi that Makes Sense
character arcs that also Make Sense
the whole tamaki and his grandma arc????
one season was NOT enough, each character getting 'their episode' was nowhere near enough to show their changes
YOU CAN SEE THEM GROWING UP
you can also see the artist's drawing of the characters get more refined over time as well! personally i really loved seeing her author notes also <3
i wish i could say more but it's been so long since i've read it. and also watched it haha
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lovetei · 9 months
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Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…
So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”
This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤
By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')
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Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off
A large portal behind your back
For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year
The portal that you've been waiting for
But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has
The comfort that he seek for
And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it
But he hides it off with a smile and a wave
He waved at you one last time before you turned around
"Uhm... I feel weird-"
What?
The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion
That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground
The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before
And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.
Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?
IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-
MC..?
He looked at you shock
No, more like-
He looked at your new form, shocked.
The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...
Right in front of them..?
He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him
But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone
Now he can't even embrace you.
All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.
You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal
He's left there, shocked and speechless
He didn't know what the hell just happened
But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back
And you're going to show that expression to him one more time
But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.
MAMMON
This man is bawling his eyes out
His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.
He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you
Even for just a moment
But no,
You won't even let him have the peace of mind
Or leave him with a nice memory
Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!
But you know what more you did?
You turned into a human!
Your human form!
Naked!
He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute
He just stood there with a flushed face
A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you
And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.
Gosh
You drive him insane
Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.
LEVIATHAN
This one too is bawling his eyes out
While holding his camera of course
He's filming every part of this
He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.
His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...
His eyes shot open and his tears stopped
Are you okay..?
. . .
He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow
And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.
Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser
He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape
He doesn't know what's happening
But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it
Everything
The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself
And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression
But the moment you left, he hid the camera
This film is for his eyes only...
He's gonna need this for a 'project'...
And you know what else he needs?
Tissues.
SATAN
He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave
But you know deep down some anger is boiling
Considering how hot his pact mark is getting
Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?
He can't help but roll his eyes internally
But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke
"I kind of... Feel weird-"
And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking
Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body
He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him
He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush
Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body
Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him
He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him
He's looking at you
With a foreign expression in his face
So he also looked at you and...
Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?
You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal
He just remained still
Looking at the ground where you once sat
He can't move, he's shaking so much...
He feels like he's about to explode...
ASMODEUS
"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed
He loves you so much!
Just why do you have to leave him!
He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye
But what about him?
Why do you have to leave him too!
I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!
He can't help it-
What do you mean you're feeling weird?
He's slowly walking to your direction
But you started to glow..?
Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around
Oh wait...
Oh...
You're...
Naked...
His mind is scrambled
He completely stopped working
And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.
BEELZEBUB
He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms
He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants
Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving
But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't
He's sad and happy at the same time
He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then
But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...
Huh?
You're feeling weird..?
You're glowing, MC!
He's shaking Belphegor awake now
What's happening to you-
. . .
He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes
But he's secretly peaking through the gaps
Your flushed face...
Looks so cute...
You look...
You looked delicious...
Just enough to eat...
Now he's hungry.
Hungry for something... New?
Something that includes you.
BELPHEGOR
He's awake actually
He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you
But when you were about to leave
He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel
Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber
But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?
His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep
But suddenly everyone dropped silent...
So you finally left?
Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-
MC?!
Why the fuck are you glowing now?!
No no no...
Is it the work of some demon?!
Who-
. . .
You're... Naked...
In front of everyone...
Haha...
Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't
But he knows you won't like that.
So he clinged to Beel-
Haha...
Why do you look like that?!
That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed
Immidiately.
"Hmm... What a shame~"
He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.
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konigbabe · 10 months
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PERISH
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.
event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi
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November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."
"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.
It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.
That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.
"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."
"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."
His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.
"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.
32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.
"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."
Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.
As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.
Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.
"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."
Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.
Yet, the energy lingers.
Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —
A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.
As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.
The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.
— it was a decoy.
Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.
Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.
During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.
It all feels confusing.
"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.
October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM
"What’s the worst that can happen?"
Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.
The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.
"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.
"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.
Life is good.
You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.
Yeah. In the end, life was good.
2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing
For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.
Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.
A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.
The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.
He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.
Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.
Of you.
Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.
You’re gone.
And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.
Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.
One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.
Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.
"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.
Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.
"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.
"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."
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luvring · 2 years
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— clingy boyfriends
gn!reader | oikawa, kenma, akaashi, suna, atsumu, timeskip!sakusa
warnings: mention of sakusa being drunk
technically all of them are aged up but sakusa's has manga spoilers!
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OIKAWA is lying on top of you when you try to push him off. “i will literally die if you try to leave me.” you groan to try to hide your laugh. “really, tooru?” “yes,” he says, getting up so he’s in a planking position above you. “i’d get up just to drop dead on the floor. it’s always the spouse, you know.” the both of you stare at each other. it’s the perfect opportunity, really, if you tried to roll out of the way. but oikawa’s quicker than you, and he drops back down before you can shuffle even half a foot. his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his side, pulling you against his chest. “you’re so annoying,” you laugh. he grins as he presses kisses on your shoulder, “but you love me. and you’re stuck with me until i’m ready to get up.”
KENMA groans, his hold tightening, when he feels you try to shuffle out of bed. “ken, ‘m hungry,” you whine. he only nuzzles closer into your neck before responding, “order food then.” you stare at him even though you know he can’t see you. “then what? tell them to somehow unlock the door and find us upstairs?” he hums in return, letting out a deep breath against your skin. “you know where the spare key is.” the thought gets a surprised laugh to escape you and you can feel kenma try to stop his own. “we can go down together in a few minutes. please?” you huff lightly and let your fingers start to brush through his hair. “okay, but if you fall asleep i’m going without you,” you say, knowing full well he’d wake up just to cling onto you longer.
KEIJI stretches and yawns before looking over at you beside him. “g’mornin’,” he greets you before placing his arm around your waist. and you know what's happening when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “keiji—” he hums, leaving a kiss against your jaw. “we have to get up,” you whine. he huffs a breath against your skin. “no we don’t, and you know it. it’s saturday.” “you don’t want breakfast?” “we can get brunch,” he replies easily. “i’ll cook our favourites.” there isn’t much to argue with when he’s warmer and more comfortable, and the sun is peaking through the blinds just enough. and keiji knows he’s won when he looks up at you with a soft smile. “stay with me?” you breathe out and mumble an “okay,” before letting yourself cuddle further into him and the blanket. he kisses your face once, twice, three times before pulling away. "love you."
SUNA frowns and looks up at you, his head still nuzzled into the crook of your neck, as soon as he doesn't feel you playing with his hair. “why’d you stop?” you spare a glance before waving your phone slightly. “‘cause i was typing?” “type with one hand then." he grabs the hand previously putting him to sleep and places it back on his head. “rin—god, okay,” you laugh. slowly, you start to comb through his hair again and feel his deep breath against your skin. “clingy baby.” he hums and smiles before placing a lazy kiss against your collarbone. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” “oh yeah? so you’d let me leave right now?” suna pulls away from you, only to bump his nose against your cheek. his breath is warm as he whispers, “you wouldn’t dare.”
ATSUMU swings your arms side to side and whines, “baby, please?” you respond with a light but drawn out tone, “i can’t come with you to practice, babe.” he frowns, pulling your hands up so he could play with them in front of you. “i’ll quit my job then.” “wh—” your sentence is cut short by a snort as you suddenly let go of him. he pouts at the lost contact, pouting more at your reply. “sure you will, tsumu. i couldn’t take you from volleyball even if i had a billion dollars.” but atsumu sighs, knowing you were ultimately right. so he takes a step closer and leans his forehead against yours. his voice is softer now. “but ‘m gonna miss you.” slowly, you pull him into a hug and let him wrap his arms around you. “i’ll see you after, okay?” “fine, but i’m not letting ya go until tomorrow morning,” he says. your lips twitch into a smile at his promise. “okay, tsum.”
SAKUSA wishes his teammates would leave his house right now only half-jokingly. “if only fans could see how clingy yer boyfriend is,” atsumu sighs as he sits across from you in the living room. you look down at your boyfriend at the mention and smile as he pouts against you. maybe he drank a little more than usual, his face flushed as his arms trap you against the couch. “ooh, it’d probably help with publicity,” hinata teases. sakusa only moves further into you as he groans. deciding to have a little mercy, you finally reply. “cuddly ‘omi’s for me only, actually.” at the sound of your voice, he tilts his head to glance at you before kissing your collarbone. sighing, he mumbles quietly, “thank you.” “gross.” at that, sakusa finally lets go for a second, turning around to shoot a glare at his teammate. “get out of here, atsumu.”
🏷️ couldn't tag | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @missyasma @thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @leexshin @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie
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oh-katsuki · 9 months
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the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)
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masterlist | ao3
Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader
Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isn’t sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.
"There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.
He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason."
Content Warnings:  fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling
Word Count: 24.8k
A/N: i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3
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The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks he’s read that somewhere, though he’s just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be. 
Kei’s room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesn’t think it feels half as romantic as it sounds. 
The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and he’s never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different. 
He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all. 
Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. They’d miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth aren’t too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course. 
Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesn’t wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isn’t until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky. 
Kei’s room is clean and neat. There’s no clutter, no collection of items that don’t have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks he’d discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. It’s a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day. 
Yamaguchi’s room is different. It’s lived in and well worn. There’s clutter on the floor, socks and pants he’d taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things don’t have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as he’d picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchi’s room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after they’re long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashi’s presence. 
To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, he’s earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when he’s in his own spaces. Not that he minds it. 
Tadashi’s dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend. 
As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. He’s sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, they’re intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other. 
Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but they’re clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is he’s trying to craft. 
He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. It’s easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural. 
By the time he arrives at the library, it’s nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. It’s almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesn’t go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesn’t approach people, they often won’t approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out. 
From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental. 
Strictly speaking, you’re Tadashi’s friend, not his. You’ve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? We’re graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, it’s impermanent. 
Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that he’s devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on. 
It’s probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei can’t really help it. He can’t change what he is. Besides, it’s not as if he doesn’t have a reason to think so. He’s often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think he’s tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. He’s not heartless, so he’s been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that you’ve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility. 
“Thought you might be here,” someone’s hand lands on his shoulder. 
“Shit,” he groans, “is it that late already?” 
Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. He’s been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasn’t gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand. 
“Spacing out?” 
“A little,” Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book. 
“Got something due?” 
“Yeah, on Friday,” he exhales. “Haven’t started it yet though. You?” 
“Nah,” Tadashi smiles. “I’m just chasing you around.” 
“You’re like a girl with a crush.” 
Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. It’s a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend. 
Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly what’s on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment. 
Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because he’s seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei can’t read his handwriting because it’s terrible and he doesn’t much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friend’s hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you. 
You’ve got your head down and look like you’re falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that you’ve spotted him staring, it’s too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little. 
You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you don’t bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him. 
“Hi, Tsukishima,” you smile. “Hi, Tadashi.” 
You use his friend’s given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest. 
“How long have you been here? I didn’t see you,” you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei. 
“I just got here,” Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. “He’s been here for a while though.” 
Tadashi motions towards him. 
“Aw, why didn’t you say hi?” 
“You seemed busy,” Kei lies. 
You pout, filling your mouth with air. “Next time just come say hi, ‘kay?” 
“Sure,” Kei nods. 
Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. He’s not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever. 
Kei doesn’t like the way you make him feel. When you’re around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless. 
You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like it’s been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? It’s entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack. 
You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something he’s written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks he’s having. 
The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesn’t know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe it’s both. 
“Crap, is that the time?” Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. “I’ve got class across campus in 10 minutes.” 
He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder. 
“Bye, ___,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I’ll see you at home, Kei!” 
“Sure,” is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook. 
It’s quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture you’re listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Kei’s notebook to get his attention. 
It’s only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face. 
When he looks up, you’re looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him. 
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You ask gently. It doesn’t sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness. 
“Huh?” Blood rushes into his ears. 
“I just kinda get the impression that you’re uncomfortable around me,” you say. “Am I wrong?” 
“Uh, no- it’s not that I don’t like you.” 
He’s quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks. 
“Then what?” you question lightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy. 
“I dunno,” he calms himself a little. “I don’t really know how to act around you, I guess.” 
You laugh, leaning back into your chair. “Is that all?” 
“Well, yeah…” he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. “You’re Tadashi’s friend and I’m pretty different from him so I just…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.
“I was worried you hated me,” you smile, chuckling to yourself. 
“That’s definitely not it,” he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily. 
“I’m your friend too, ya know?” 
“That so?” 
“Well, yeah,” you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. “I just kinda figured that we would be.” 
“Friends?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward. 
“Duh,” you laugh a little. “You know, you don’t have to speak formally with me.” 
“That’s just the way I am,” he huffs at being read. 
“Well, you can drop them with me. I don’t mind.” 
“Tall order,” he snorts. 
You tilt your head to the side. “Did you just make a joke?” 
“Uh, yeah…” 
“Funny,” you smile. “What are you studying?” 
“It’s not really studying…” he says, glancing down at the near empty document. “I’m supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.” 
He looks up at you through his lashes. You’re leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at what’s on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better. 
“Baroque art?” You read aloud. “Oh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that you’re an art history major. Do you draw too?” 
“No,” he scoffs. “I’m hopeless at it, but I like art. It’s nice to look at.” 
“Huh, you look like you’d be good at drawing,” you say. 
“What’s that mean?” 
“I dunno, like a manga author or something,” you shrug. “You’ve got nice hands too. Like an artist.” 
“Manga?” He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment. 
“Yeah, you look like the manga type.” 
“Is it the glasses?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Maybe,” you laugh. 
Kei looks down at his hands. They’re big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. He’s hyper-aware of them now that you’ve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. They’re trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashi’s. Tadashi’s fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his. 
There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. It’s only a bit bigger than his fist—a little thing, really—and it’s completely blank. Kei’s never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. It’s got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. It’s malleable, but not so flimsy that he’d need a desk to write in it. 
Kei’s not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. It’s practical, much like he is. He’s considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isn’t much of a list guy, it’s Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. He’s considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesn’t think there’s anything worth writing about. 
No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory. 
He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. 
Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason, not that he’s about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didn’t really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must. 
People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, that’s how it seems. He’s always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that they’re really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what he’s feeling rather quickly. He’s not too sure why that is, maybe he’s just obvious and hasn’t realized it. 
Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, he’d been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldn’t even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, he’d simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldn’t even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression. 
To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like he’ll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat. 
Tadashi knows this about him and if it weren’t for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. It’s nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he can’t keep a secret to save his life. 
Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. He’s always known that he’s had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesn’t need to be told that he’s smug to know that he is. He’s snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. It’s not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like it’s been worse. 
Maybe it’s because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. It’s not because he doesn’t think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesn’t find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, it’s easier to get on his nerves. 
He’s dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. He’s not sure why he does. Sometimes it’s because he thinks they’re pretty, other times it’s because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has. 
Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. He’s too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like it’s ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings. 
If he’s being honest, it’s given him a twisted inferiority complex. He’s worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, he’s not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that he’s just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy. 
Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. He’s just a little awkward. That’s all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. It’s a peeve of Kei’s. 
Tadashi isn’t like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that he’d ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashi’s not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him. 
Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that he’s had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isn’t exactly sure what would have become of him. 
It’s pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better won’t automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Kei’s learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you. 
Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesn’t think it would have any effect on the fact that he’s definitely developed a crush. He’s positive it will go away. In fact, he’s not even sure if it’s real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way he’s jealous of Tadashi. You’re bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well. 
In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, he’d have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesn’t have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesn’t have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesn’t want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesn’t have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory. 
— 
Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesn’t like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that he’s touchy, that he’s awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesn’t mean that he has to acknowledge it. 
You’ve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe you’re more comfortable now knowing that he doesn’t hate you, so you’re happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment. 
Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person he’s ever done that for is Tadashi. 
He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition he’s yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesn’t want you to hate him. He thinks he’d die if you hated him. Kei’s being brave in his own way. It’s little, but he’s doing it. 
As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when you’re not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. That’s a lot for Kei to think about. 
Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him. 
Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, you’ll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that he’s not wildly nervous at your proximity. You’re so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. You’re a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is. 
His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that he’s actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You don’t seem to think that he’s anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesn’t want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like he’s reversed what’s been done to him his whole life, like somehow he’s only become your friend because he wants something more. 
Truth is though, he doesn’t want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesn’t want his crush to develop any further. He doesn’t want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesn’t feel anything at all for you.  
“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head at him. 
“Huh? Me?” He questions. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 
“You seem a little distracted,” you smile. “You’ve been staring at your computer for like… 10 minutes with this blank look on your face.” 
“You’ve been staring at me for 10 minutes?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that. 
“Not staring at you,” you huff, “but I definitely noticed.” 
“Ha, creep,” he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose. 
“You’re twisted, you know?” 
“Whatever,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work. 
Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinata’s height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that he’s so twisted. He’s been hearing that sort of thing his entire life. 
“Hey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?” You ask a few moments later. 
“Oh, yeah sure. I don’t mind,” he nods, hiding his disappointment. “I didn’t realize that we had like… set times to be here.” 
You laugh lightly. “Well, we don’t, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.” 
Kei envies your honesty. You’re so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things. 
“You’ll be home on Friday night, right?” 
“Uhm, yeah? Why?” 
“Tadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?” 
“I think he mentioned it.” Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days. 
“Good, I’ll see you, right?” 
“Yeah, you will.” 
“Great, talk to you later then!” You smile and with that, you walk away. 
You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei can’t help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards. 
Kei can’t tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. It’s probably both. It’s probably some mix of the two that he can’t quite sort out. He wishes it weren’t that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined. 
So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell they’re a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. That’s something you haven’t done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous. 
It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, you’re you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense. 
Turns out, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t feel anything when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering. 
Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, it’s overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up. 
It’s not like you’ll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and that’s close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when you’re here, he’ll be wondering if there’s something else that he missed beyond the closed door and he’ll think about it incessantly. 
He’s been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. It’s not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that it’s stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that he’s creepy because of it? 
He doesn’t get to be upset over the idea that you’re seeing someone else. Why wouldn’t you be? Kei’s done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesn’t hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one. 
Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesn’t want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. It’s not your fault, nor is it the person Kei’s convinced himself you’re seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it can’t be himself. 
The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. He’d never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. He’s afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him. 
Kei’s got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesn’t quite like you at all. It’s not your fault. He’s just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. He’s confused. He’s jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. That’s all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like he’s being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking. 
Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. He’s forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over. 
He’s not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, that’s a lunatic’s idea. 
Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashi’s shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him. 
Kei doesn’t want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze. 
“Is there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?” Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Kei’s feet and roll around before settling. 
“What are you talking about? I was normal,” he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips. 
“Bullshit,” Tadashi says. “You were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and you’ve been one to me all day.” 
Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, “I’ve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? You’re closer to all of them than I am.”
“What? You’re tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?” 
“No,” Kei responds. 
“So then what was that?” 
Kei doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. It’s true, he’d been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why he’d acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. He’d sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it. 
It’s not as if he’d been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesn’t want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst. 
It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Kei’d been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously. 
It’s no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight. 
You’d been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, he’s endlessly embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that. You’d been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that he’d learned later that evening that wasn’t even true. 
Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship. 
You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. It’s an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when he’s in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at. 
For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise he’d gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying. 
He’d picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Kei’s not proud of it, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up. 
Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions he’d rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, it’s cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanaka’s voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei can’t help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could. 
Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts. 
“I thought you liked them, dude,” his voice is even, letting up on the anger. 
“Who?” Kei plays dumb. 
Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. “I thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?” 
“Nothing happened,” Kei says. It’s the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own. 
“Why did you ignore them then?” 
“I didn’t ignore them,” Kei says. Again, it’s not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldn’t ignore you if he tried, it’s sort of the whole problem he’s dealing with now. 
“Maybe, but you were cold. Like… needlessly.” 
“I was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,” Kei spits. 
“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? I know you and I know that shit wasn’t normal. You’re twisted, but you’re not an outright asshole, Kei. What’s going on?” 
“I was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didn’t bounce around or get rowdy, doesn’t mean that something is wrong,” Kei answers. 
“Yeah, but you were like… majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Don’t you like them? Don’t you want to be nice to them?” 
“I don’t.” 
“You don’t want to be nice to them?” Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes. 
“No, not that. I don’t like them like that anymore,” Kei lies. 
“Oh please, that’s such horseshit,” Tadashi laughs bitterly. 
“Get off my ass, Tadashi. I don’t fucking feel that way about them anymore,” Kei insists. 
“Did something happen?” 
“No, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just don’t like them,” Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesn’t deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight. 
Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it. 
“Jesus, Kei, you’ve got to stop doing this shit,” Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead. 
“Doing what?” 
“Getting all in your head about every single connection you’ve ever had with a person,” Tadashi raises his voice. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“It means I’ve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!” 
“I don’t do that!” 
“Yes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!” Tadashi exhales. 
“I’ve never done that deliberately! What does someone else’s actions have to do with me?” 
“It doesn’t have to do with you,” Tadashi says, “It has to do with your parents.” 
The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open. 
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. “Not every relationship is like your parents’, Kei.” 
Tadashi knows he’s stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadn’t registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashi’s usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty. 
“Shit-” Tadashi starts towards him. “Kei, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’m just pissed off I didn’t mean to-” 
Kei pushes past him. “Tadashi, I know you mean well, but don’t try to tell me about my fucking parents.” 
Tadashi doesn’t try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.
Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it. 
He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Kei’s lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames he’d swept from the floor. 
Kei’s parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each other’s throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well. 
Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy. 
His parents got married at 19, thinking that they’d be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, that’s what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom. 
They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his father’s marital “solution” in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place. 
Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. They’d make digs, do things to get under the other’s skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person they’d decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price. 
They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that it’s not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Kei’s father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because. 
It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. That’s just the way it goes. 
The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers. 
Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories they’d decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house. 
He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him. 
“Are mom and dad gonna get divorced?” Kei had asked through sniffles. 
“Divorced? No, no,” Akiteru answered. “It’s just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.” 
“It’s normal?” Kei sniffled. 
Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadn’t. 
“Yeah, it’s normal.” 
Normal. Kei realizes that he doesn’t exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things he’s picked up from watching them. Some role models they were. 
He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that he’d been an asshole tonight. He’ll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that he’d acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, he’s his parents’ son alright. 
Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. It’s a clear night, but he can’t see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. It’s a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise. 
“Kei,” a familiar voice calls from in front of him. 
You’re a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you. 
“Thought you went home,” he says. 
“Yeah well, I had intended to,” you start, “but you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?” 
Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but you’re the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner. 
“Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” Kei answers automatically. 
“Just decided on some fresh air?” You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose. 
“Yup, that’s exactly it.” 
You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesn’t make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 
Strangely, tonight he doesn’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he’s too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when you’re around. Maybe it’s because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. It’s a small hope, but it’s there. 
“Hey,” your voice comes quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, I’m a pretty good ear.” 
Kei nods a little. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, “about tonight.” 
“I didn’t come here for an apology, you know?” You exhale a little. 
“Yeah, but you deserve one,” he says. “I was pretty shitty to you.” 
“Yeah, you were,” you agree, catching Kei off guard, “but it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just can’t keep them inside, you know?” 
“Yeah,” he agrees, swallowing down his shame. 
There’s another long silence. You don’t move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence. 
“I fought with Tadashi,” Kei says after a few minutes. 
“Today?” 
“Yeah, tonight. After everyone left,” he says. “I deserved it though. I’ve been pretty shitty to him all day.” 
You hum, leaning back on your hands. 
“I did the same shit in high school too, you know?” Kei starts. “We’ve uhm- we’ve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.” 
Kei isn’t sure why he’s telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage. 
“You bullied him?” You ask, a little surprised. 
Kei shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,” he admits, a little defeated. 
“Did you ever apologize?” 
Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity. 
“For what you did in school?” 
He nods. “Countless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.” 
“You know, stuff like this happens,” you say. “When I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. I’d hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and I’d get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.” 
Kei laughs. It’s strikingly similar to what’s happening now, not that you’d have any way of knowing. 
“I can’t imagine you doing that,” he says. 
“I’m serious,” you say. “I still get weird over it sometimes.” 
Kei shakes his head a little, smiling. 
“All that I’m saying is that sometimes we slip up, that’s all. It’s normal,” you continue. “Not that I’m condoning it. Just saying that it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you human.” 
“Thanks,” he says softly. 
“No problem,” you respond. 
“So why’d you fight with him tonight?” 
“He was angry with me because I was an asshole,” Kei shrugs.
“And you’re mad that he called you out?” You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh. 
Kei shakes his head. “No, I’m angry about what he said after.” 
“What’d he say?” 
Kei debates on telling you. He doesn’t want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that. 
“The argument kind of switched subjects,” Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. “He brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.” 
“Okay,” you say, waiting for him to say more. 
“Remember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?” When you nod, Kei continues. “My parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.” 
You nod again, your eyes wide. 
“He didn’t mean any harm, I know that,” Kei inhales. “But uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, it’s stuck with me and I didn’t like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. I’m not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.” 
“Sure,” you say. “I’m sorry about your parents.” 
Kei shrugs. “It’s in the past. They’re both remarried now with new kids.” 
The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesn’t think they have any business having more children. Maybe they’re capable of being good for them, but Kei doesn’t like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasn’t the problem, but he and Akiteru were. 
“You say that like they got a new pet,” you smile a little. “Are you still in touch with them?” 
“Yeah,” he says. “I visit whenever I go back home, though they’re really not too far from here.” 
“That’s good of you.” 
“Well, they are my parents,” Kei says plainly. 
You’re the only other person he’s divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. It’s like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate. 
“Yeah, but you’re allowed to feel what you feel about it,” you say. “My mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. I’m still angry at her for it.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says. 
You shrug and offer him a wry smile. “It’s in the past, but I’m still angry even though I shouldn’t be.” 
“At her?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “She made a stupid mistake that we’re constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.” 
Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei can’t imagine what he’d do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still can’t think about a world where he doesn’t visit home to have his mother’s cooking. That’s a world that you live in. 
“That’s hard.” It’s all Kei can think to offer. 
“It was,” you say. “Got easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.”
Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and he’s been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose. 
“Anyway, about tonight,” you say, “it’s not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, that’s what we’re here for. It’s easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, don’t you think?” 
“Yeah,” Kei says, looking to face you. “Thank you.” 
You’re so pretty. It’s striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, he’s grateful that you showed up. You’re good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom. 
“You should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,” you say, standing up. “Plus,” you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, “your nose looks like a cherry tomato.”
“Rude,” he says, startled by the sudden touch. 
“Payback,” you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes. 
“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own. 
“I’d love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I don’t live very far,” you respond. “I’ll call you when I get home though, okay? Since you’re so worried.” 
Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. “Yeah, I am.” 
His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile. 
“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say. “Thanks for the apology” 
“Anytime.”
“I hope not,” you laugh and Kei follows suit. 
You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave. 
Kei doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what he’s doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater. 
“You can call even if it’s not to tell me you got home safe,” he says. “If you want to.” 
You squeeze him around the middle. “Okay, I will.” 
When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.
“Thanks for coming back,” he says. “Get home safe.” 
“Of course,” you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. “And I will.” 
Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it. 
“Expect a call!” 
Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.
He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When you’re out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You don’t come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation. 
He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.
“Kei, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 
“Don’t worry,” Kei says. “I know. I’m sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.” 
“High school?” Tadashi says, confused. “Why are you bringing up high school?” 
“Just wanted to apologize again.” 
Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before. 
“I didn’t mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,” Tadashi says. “I was out of line.” 
“So was I,” Kei admits through a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’ll apologize to the others in the morning.” 
Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom. 
“Hey, Kei,” his voice comes out a little louder this time. “You’re being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?” 
Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. “I just had some time to think, that’s all. And yeah, we’re good.” 
“Okay, are you good?” 
“Yeah, I am,” Kei says. 
Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision. 
“By the way,” Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. “I lied. I do like them.” 
“Could have guessed as much,” he responds, laughing a little. “See you in the morning.” 
“Yup, see you in the morning.” 
Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up. 
When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling. 
“Hello?” 
“Hey, I got home safe,” he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines you’re lying the same way he is. 
“Good, I’m glad,” he says. “No trouble?” 
“No trouble at all,” you say. He can hear your smile. 
“Thanks again for coming back tonight,” he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face. 
“Of course,” you say.
He doesn’t know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like you’re whispering directly into his ear. 
“Okay, well I’m going to go to bed,” Kei starts. 
“Kei?” you say. 
“Yeah?” 
“I’m gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.” 
“Okay,” he swallows. 
“I feel a lot closer to you.”
“Yeah, me too.” 
“Goodnight, Kei,” you practically whisper. 
“Goodnight,” he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends. 
He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. He’d been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, he’s certain of the opposite. 
He decides that he’ll like you for real this time. Even if he’s afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.
Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger you’d admitted to him and the grace you’d given him in his own circumstances. 
He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.
Kei’s apologies go smoothly. Tadashi’s friends—his friends—are good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands. 
He’d explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. He’s easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei won’t try to tell him otherwise. 
You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes it’s to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, it’s not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out. 
There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it. 
He’s noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. He’s noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. He’s noticed that when you’re studying, you’ll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you. 
Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. He’s self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that he’s probably the least put together he’s ever been. 
When you’re around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that he’s that far off from one. 
Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that he’s able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. He’s cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it. 
The coffee shop he’s visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen. 
You’d brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei can’t help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, you’ll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up. 
Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that he’s hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasn’t touched in about 10 minutes. He’s been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when you’re focused. 
“You’d get a lot more done if you stopped staring,” you say, not looking up from your notebook. 
Kei chokes on his exhale. “What?” 
You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, you’re pretty. 
“The document?” You chuckle. “You’re not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.” 
“Oh,” Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just can’t seem to focus.” 
“What’s the paper on?” You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table. 
“It’s not really a paper,” he says. “It’s a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.” 
“Is that the one without the arms?” 
“No, but they come from the same family of statues,” Kei smiles a little. 
You hum a bit. “Do you like it?” 
“Like, do I think the statue’s pretty?” Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. “Yeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.” 
“Why?” 
“Well, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?” He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. “But this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. She’s trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. It’s meant to be humiliating.” 
You tilt your head. “Sounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.” 
Kei laughs a little. “Yeah, I think it’s just a bit more interesting.” 
“Why did you choose to study art history?” You question, leaning forward on your elbows. 
Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesn’t like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him. 
“Probably because I’m no good at art,” he smiles a little. 
“Such a shame, what with your artist’s hands and all,” you reach across the table and tap his knuckle. 
Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks. 
“You’re no good at art, so you study art history instead?” You press for more. 
“Yeah,” he says. “I like things that people make with their hands. There’s a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.” 
You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck. 
“Why are you studying molecular bio?” He changes the subject. 
You shrug your shoulders. “I want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.” 
Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up. 
“Plus,” you continue, “I wanted to show off a little bit.” 
“So you put yourself through four years of torture?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Yup, I’m a huge masochist,” you grin. 
“You STEM kids are unbearable, you know?” Kei snorts. 
“But you like me anyway, yeah?” 
Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work. 
It’s true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether he’s noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment. 
That’s probably why he doesn’t want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. He’s content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldn’t do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle he’s waged in his mind over the last few months. He’s too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept. 
Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. You’re easy to like. It’s easy for him to picture touching you. It’s easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. You’re easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei can’t do. It’s not hard to find things to admire. 
Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? 
A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesn’t think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesn’t mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants. 
It’s a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. He’d even venture to say that it’s good. 
Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, it’ll become the most eye-catching thing on the street. 
Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. It’s so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches don’t look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either. 
There was a tree like this outside of Kei’s childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. He’d press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didn’t get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same. 
“Thinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?” 
He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity. 
“Jesus,” Kei turns, “you need a bell or something.” 
“You’re the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,” you laugh a little. 
Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on. 
“Where’re you headed?” he questions. 
“Dropping off an assignment,” you smile lightly, “wanna come with me?” 
“I can’t. I’ve got a class in 15.” 
“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,” you shrug. “We’ll make it.” 
“We?” Kei raises an eyebrow. 
“Yeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. It’s a win-win.” 
“Sounds like I’m just doing a lot of extra walking,” Kei snorts. 
“Yeah, but you get to do it with me so it’ll be more fun.” 
Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. It’s an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesn’t like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it. 
It’s strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and he’s more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick. 
The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Kei’s palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this. 
“Hey, about tonight,” you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow. 
You’re supposed to come over. It’s the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood. 
“Yeah?” 
“So, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,” you give him a sheepish grin, “and they may have asked to come and I definitely told them ‘the more the merrier’.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Kei’s a little disappointed. “So they’re coming too?” 
“Yeah, is that okay?” You furrow your eyebrows. 
Kei can’t very well come out and say that it isn’t, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesn’t want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that he’s ‘in like’. 
“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?” 
You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely. 
“I dunno, you’re not really a fan of bigger groups right?” 
“Not really,” Kei shrugs, “but I’ve known them for a while so it doesn’t count.” 
You nod your head and then smile. “Great! Now, where is your class?” 
“Social Sciences,” Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. “In about… four minutes.” 
“Wanna run? Can’t be late, can you?” 
Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. You’re faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe he’d been holding it while watching you run. 
You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction. 
“Have a good class!” You call. 
“What’s the rush?” he questions. 
“I’ve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.” Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs. 
That’s the thing about you that Kei can’t get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than he’s ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isn’t food, a feeling Kei hasn’t experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger. 
Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight. 
“Sorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,” Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room. 
“It’s not like that,” Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out. 
“Sure it isn’t,” he laughs. 
“I’m serious dude,” Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him. 
“You wanted to hang out with them alone, right?” Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck. 
“I just said it wasn’t like that!” 
Tadashi gives an even laugh. “You’re the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.” 
Heat floods Kei’s face, painting it red. 
“Caught ya,” Tadashi smiles. 
“When the hell are you moving out?” Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh. 
“Not until you do. You’re stuck with me.” 
“Not if I kill you,” Kei doesn’t smile when he says this. 
Tadashi barks a laugh. “So what changed?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,” Tadashi says. “Nothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.” 
“I was kidding before but now I’m serious. I really will kill you.” 
Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesn’t say anything, intruding on Kei’s space until he gives an answer. 
“I just got tired of it, that’s all,” Kei says evenly, though it’s a little hard to admit. 
“Tired of what?” 
“Pretending,” he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway. 
“Because of them?” 
“No,” he starts. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can you leave now?” 
Tadashi shakes his head. “Too curious to leave.” 
“I don’t have an answer for you,” Kei grumbles. “I got tired of pretending I didn’t want them.” 
“Not like you were very good at pretending,” Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look. 
He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. “Okay, fine. I’m gone now.” 
“They’ll be here in an hour or so, by the way,” Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that he’s heard him as he leaves the room. 
Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. It’s empty, but Kei likes the look of it. 
The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that he’s gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. It’s a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. He’d not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his father’s. 
He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Kei’s curly hair is somewhat unruly. It’s hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he can’t seem to keep down. It’s gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond. 
Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and he’s never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though they’re only a cheap pair that he’d found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced. 
He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, he’d stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Two’s family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that he’s a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original. 
Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times you’ve all piled into his living room. 
“Where’s Kei?” He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum. 
That’s why. It’s because this time, you’ve come here to see him specifically. You’re not here to see Tadashi or by chance, you’re here because you’d made plans to see Kei. That’s what makes it different. 
You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. You’re smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe it’s because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest. 
“Hi,” you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch. 
“Hey,” he chokes out. 
Kei chides himself for his nerves. He’d been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has. 
Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host. 
“Tanaka and Kiyoko?” Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop. 
“Date night,” Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. “So annoying.”
He groans about Kiyoko, someone he’s all but worshiped since high school. 
“You’re just mad it isn’t you,” Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin. 
“Not true,” Noya argues. “I am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I can’t come. It’s like I lost a bro.” 
“You’re so overreacting,” Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. “They’re here most of the time.” 
“Yeah, most but not all,” Noya pouts. 
“Give the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?” Tadashi laughs. 
Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that he’s gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else. 
“They’re different and you know it,” Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth. 
You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Kei’s. 
“Who’re Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?” You ask softly. 
“You’ve never met?” Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug. 
“Maybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.” 
“They’re friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but they’re two years older.” 
“Okay, so one year older than me?” 
Kei blinks a few times. “You’re a year older than me?” 
“Yeah?” You laugh a little like it’s obvious. 
“But aren’t you a fourth year?” He furrows his eyebrows. 
“I took a year off before starting college,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thought that I had to get my sillies out.” 
“Your sillies?” Kei laughs a little. 
“Yeah,” you smile, “and I had to save up some money. It makes the world go ‘round, you know?” 
“What are you guys whispering about?” Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can. 
It’s only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. He’s tilting his head down to hear you better and you’re leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadn’t even realized had crept up on him. 
“I was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,” you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair. 
This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans. 
They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Kei’s more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, it’s still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Kei’s relentless prodding of Kageyama’s easily pushed buttons. 
You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene. 
Still though, despite the fun he’s having, Kei’s battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. It’s not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it. 
He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. They’re clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldn’t have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.
Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei. 
“Done already?” You lean your hip against the counter. 
“With what?” Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body. 
“Hanging out,” you smile lightly. 
“Not really,” he says. “Just needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.” 
“Wanna go sit outside for a bit then?” 
Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. He’d hate to be stopped on the way. 
“Relax,” you laugh. “They’re so caught up they won’t even notice that we’re gone.” 
Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. It’s the same place you’d come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then. 
It’s a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves. 
You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response. 
“Sorry again about bringing the troops here,” you speak first. 
“That’s really okay,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.” 
You snort. “I hope so.” 
Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like he’s going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away. 
“Kind of a bummer though,” you start, “I was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.” 
Kei’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage. 
“We hang out all the time though,” he says like it’s enough. Of course it’s not enough. 
“Guess so,” you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice. 
“You know,” he starts, already embarrassed at what he’s going to admit. “I wanted to be your friend for a while.” 
“Oh yeah?” you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. “Why?” 
Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. It’s embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them. 
“You kind of reminded me of Tadashi,” he says. “And you both got along so well.” 
“Tadashi? I’m nothing like Tadashi,” you laugh, shaking your head. 
“What? No, you two are so similar,” Kei insists, lacing his fingers together. 
“What about us is so similar?” 
“Well, you’re both sociable and warm and…” Kei trails off. He can’t really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes. 
“See?” 
Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. He’d been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, he’s never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow. 
“We’re nothing like each other,” you laugh and lean back against your palms. “Though, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.” 
Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesn’t want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. If you’re like Kei, then Kei doesn’t have to be afraid of showing you the worst. You’ll have already seen it. If you’re like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him? 
“Even if you’re not like Tadashi, that’s fine.” His cheeks burn. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah, I like you all the same,” he admits quietly. 
“The same? As Tadashi?” You purse your lips a little. “I thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?” 
Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like they’ve separated from his body. Anything he’d thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. You’re so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. You’re so close and you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for something, implying that somehow you’re different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend. 
“No, you’re different,” he says, taking the bait you’ve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he can’t look at you. He thinks he’ll kiss you if he does. 
“Am I?” 
Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what you’re saying sound honeyed and curved. 
“Yeah, you are.”
“How so?” 
Kei finally raises his head to look at you. You’re grinning, leaning towards him like you’re watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesn’t know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesn’t think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that he’s still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do. 
Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. It’s awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same. 
He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe that’s what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more. 
Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. There’s hunger within him, the need to take more than what he’s receiving and a greed he isn’t quite familiar with, but there’s also romance. It’s like a spell that’s yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that they’re all that he can feel right now. 
The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, you’re both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. It’s a temporary fix, but it’s enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next. 
“I think I’m in really hot water,” he squeaks. 
“What do you mean?” You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you. 
“I think I want you way more than I thought I did,” he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you. 
You smile a little before speaking. “I think it’s only hot water if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.” 
Your face is still so close to his. “Yeah?” 
It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. He’s so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you don’t feel the same way.
Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. “Yeah.” 
You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. He’s so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he can’t name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more. 
Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.
“We should go back inside, I think,” you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. “The others might think something’s up and Tanaka isn’t exactly good with discretion.”
Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesn’t know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place. 
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly. 
You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him. 
Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. He’s tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought. 
“Where’d you guys go?” Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him. 
In the time you’d both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over people’s bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him. 
Kei doesn’t know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? He’s not even sure that he remembers. 
“I wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,” you answer evenly. “Why? You jealous?” 
“Of inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.” Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldn’t voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them. 
“Aw, man, I thought you quit?” Hinata pipes up, tilting his head. 
“I did, hot stuff,” you respond, sitting down on the couch. “Don’t worry. I won’t smoke anymore.” 
Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you. 
His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. You’re so close to him again, closer than before, and he can’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. He’s desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it. 
You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. It’s like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesn’t stick his ground, he’ll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way he’s desperate to now. 
After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things they’d been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation. 
“Hey, we’re going out to the bars. Who’s coming?” Hinata speaks up. 
A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.
“I think I’ll probably stay back and start cleaning,” he says somewhat disdainfully. “It’s a mess in here,” Kei tosses you a small glance. It’s unintentional but he’s glad for it because Kei is hoping that you’ll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off. 
“I’ll stay and help too. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,” you smile and Hinata pouts. 
“You guys are so boring,” he protests. “Leave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.” 
“I’ll pass, pipsqueak,” Kei scoffs. 
“Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re full of regret tomorrow,” he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. “And you’re too nice for your own good.” 
“Do you hear that?” You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. “I think it’s the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.” 
“You guys are so full of shit-” Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out. 
“Yeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.” 
The rope is so taut between you both that it’s unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei. 
“We’re not cleaning, right?” 
Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours. 
This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. It’s fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it. 
There’s an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that you’ve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth. 
Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if he’s leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than he’d expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull. 
You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Kei’s hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Kei’s never been one to want this way, but right now, it’s all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself. 
You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall. 
He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering. 
Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. You’re so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability. 
He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip. 
He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, he’s overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. It’s hot and your breath fans across his face. 
Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Kei’s hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt. 
His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs. 
You’re so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei can’t articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and he’s grown hard against the bedspread beneath him. 
“Touch me,” you breathe out. 
Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and it’s with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he won’t get to see the way you stick to them. 
When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Kei’s nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread. 
He slides his palm to rest over your center. It’s warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him. 
You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like he’s asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Kei’s pillows. 
Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Kei’s stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear. 
He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if you’ve cum. He wonders if he’s sent you over the edge, but if he has, you’re taking all of it so well that he doesn’t dare stop. 
The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it. 
He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. It’s so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Kei’s pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. He’s sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise. 
The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time. 
You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make. 
“K-Kei wait, wait,” you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesn’t think you mean to hurt him, but it doesn’t matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants. 
“Huh?” He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. “You okay?” 
“I’ll cum if you keep going like that,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like you’re still on the edge. “Drag it out for me, yeah?” 
Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.
“Cum if you want to.” He tilts his head down to reattach his lips. 
“Not yet,” you tug at his hair. “I like chasing it.” 
Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy. 
“Come here,” you coax him onto the mattress. 
Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump. 
You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei can’t stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response. 
“You don’t have to,” he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down. 
“But I want to,” you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick. 
Kei’s head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock. 
For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didn’t think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him. 
Your mouth is so warm and wet. It’s a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming. 
Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until he’s bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. There’s nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression. 
It’s embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesn’t take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei can’t help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, red faced and panting, “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly, you’re just-” 
“It’s fine,” you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. “I like making you feel good.” 
“Yeah but-” 
“No buts,” you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. “There’s still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?” 
He nods and you lean down to do as you’d asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like you’re trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die. 
He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like he’s tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy. 
Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings. 
You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. You’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin. 
Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and there’s a pause in which Kei doesn’t know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesn’t know what to do. Kei’s thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward. 
His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Kei’d almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that you’re looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory. 
“What?” he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation. 
“Your face is red,” you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek. 
Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.
“No,” you pick his chin up. “I like it. It’s cute.” 
You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes you’re sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him. 
“Christ,” he groans. 
You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go. 
Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. There’s something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when he’s buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick. 
His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Kei’s first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. He’d grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei can’t describe, something fulfilling and whole. 
He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you can’t quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips. 
“I really like you,” you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks. 
Kei’s heart hammers and his hips stutter a little. 
“Me too,” he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you. 
“Are you close again?” you breathe, voice laden with pleasure. 
“I have been since we started,” Kei admits. 
“Cum then,” you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.
“You first,” he mutters.
There’s this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks it’s a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, it’s just because he thinks it’ll look hot. 
He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way. 
Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. You’re so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy. 
He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch. 
He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. There’s pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.
He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. It’s gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste. 
You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, you’re already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest. 
There’s a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath. 
His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since everyone left, nor does he know when they’ll be back, but he estimates that it won’t be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this. 
“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” Kei admits quietly. 
“What stuff?” You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen. 
“Liking people,” he says. “Dating.” 
You give a small laugh. “No offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.” 
“Shit, seriously?” 
“Duh,” you breathe out. “It’s a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.” 
So it’s true. You like the parts of Kei that he’s always worried were the worst of him. 
“Huh,” he says. “Could you tell?” 
“That you like me?” You ask, shifting your head to look at him. “Yeah, it was obvious after we established that you didn’t hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.” 
“Really? I thought I was being a little slick with that,” Kei feels heat and color flood his face. 
You let out a good-natured laugh. “People can always tell when someone’s staring, Kei. It’s like a sixth sense.” 
“Good to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.” 
Another bout of silence follows. 
“You can keep staring though,” you say, “if you want to. And calling.”
“Okay,” Kei responds, “I didn’t really plan on stopping.” 
“Ha, freaky,” you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. “Wanna start going out?” 
Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things. 
“I think I’d be a little upset if we didn’t,” he admits. 
“Good,” you say. “Me too.” 
He’s fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest that’s falling over him. Kei knows you’re fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet. 
“We should… really get up to clean just a little,” he mumbles. 
“Five more minutes,” you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness. 
“Okay,” he says. 
It’s just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer. 
There’s a period after which Kei doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. You’re gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing. 
It’s all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that it’s easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin. 
At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. That’s how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance. 
Kei discovers that he’s possessive. That’s a new trait of his that he didn’t know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, he’d been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesn’t really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that. 
This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, it’s been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. He’d worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you. 
“Kei,” you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?” 
He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You give him a wry smile. “This was your idea, after all.” 
“Yeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,” he breathes, “My parents aren’t exactly easy.” 
“You want to cancel?” You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to meet them.” 
The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, he’d forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. You’re too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei can’t see it any other way, though he’d like to. 
You snort. “What does that even mean?” 
Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look. 
“Okay, sorry,” you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s going to be okay. I’m excited.” 
Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. “Excited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?” 
“Yup. I’m excited to meet the people who raised you.” 
Kei smiles a little. “You should meet Akiteru, then,” It’s an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea. 
You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. There’s an understanding that passes from you to him, like you’re acknowledging that you haven’t forgotten what he’d told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little. 
His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. It’s a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. He’s surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive. 
“Kei,” his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.
“Hi Mom,” Kei responds and she gives him a small smile. 
Kei’s dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one he’s had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder. 
“Guys,” he inhales, “This is my partner, _____.” 
You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like you’ve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face. 
“We’re so happy to meet you,” his mother starts, “Kei’s never introduced us to any of his partners before.” 
“I’m the first?” You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him. 
“There really haven’t been that many to begin with,” Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better. 
You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his university’s graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.
There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away. 
He’d expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldn’t they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.
It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes haven’t been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why can’t he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi? 
“I think that went well,” you say softly on the drive back. 
Kei nods his agreement. “I think so too.” 
You don’t bring up the fact that they didn’t fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You don’t accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was. 
“I’m glad that I got to meet them,” you say. “You look so much like your mom.” 
“Really?” Kei asks. 
“Yeah, you’ve got her eyes and her nose,” you smile a little. “It makes you two look similar.” 
“Huh,” he says. “I never really gave that much thought.” 
Kei turns the idea that he has his mother’s face over in his head. He’d spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that he’s just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when he’s trying to love. But he has his mother’s eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. It’s like evidence. 
“You don’t really act like them though,” you say as if on cue. “You’re a little gentler.” 
“Me? Gentle?” Kei scoffs. 
“Yeah!” you say. “I mean, sure you’re prickly, but there’s a goodness to you that’s really obvious if you look.” 
Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if there’s any goodness in him, if there’s anything that hasn’t been tainted by his parents’ sour personalities, it’s from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that. 
“That’s a relief,” he admits in a flat tone. 
After a long pause, he speaks again. “Thanks.” 
“For what?” You laugh. 
“Bearing with me… and with them,” he says. “Couldn’t have been easy.” 
“It was easy,” you say. “Because I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.” 
Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complex’s garage. 
“You say that stuff so easily,” he huffs. 
“What? That I care about you?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Well, I do,” you laugh a little.
Kei’s face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition. 
“Me too,” he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. “Sorry that I don’t say it a lot.” 
“Not to be rude,” you say, “but even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. You’re kind of a sucker.” 
Kei supposes that that’s true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway. 
You’re half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his. 
He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something he’s familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children they’re raising properly. They’re good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too. 
Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isn’t quite beyond him yet. He’s unsure, in fact, if he’ll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldn’t see just how bad it made them. 
Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little. 
In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if it’s for you. He’ll bear the brunt of it. He’ll put in the work. 
Yes, Kei is his parents’ son, but he’s also Tadashi’s friend, Akiteru’s brother, the person who loves you. He doesn’t live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore. 
“Are you awake?” He whispers across the pillow. 
“Mhm,” you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.
“Let’s move in together,” he says. 
You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds. “I want to live with you.” 
“Okay then,” you smile a little. “Let’s do it.” 
In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier. 
And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesn’t want to wake you, not before he’s made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box it’s been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. It’s a good enough reason, a good enough change. 
The notebook theory. 
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sttoru · 9 months
Text
“SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS.”
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ෆ sypnosis. satoru returns to the dorms with a random child one day, leaving you confused as to who it may be.
ෆ note. uhmmm teenage satoru taking care megumi while in high school … found family… sonsobsobs.
ෆ tags. teen!satoru x female teen!reader (romantic or platonic, up to you). fluff, bits of angst, comfort, spoilers manga/anime, you n satoru are classmates, found family trope.
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“satoru, you can’t just kidnap a kid.”
you stare at the little kid that satoru had randomly brought into your dorm room. the boy, who had a black spiky hair cut, seemed to be around the age a first grader would be.
he was standing behind satoru’s tall legs, looking up at you with an indifferent gaze. he wasn’t talkative either which you hadn’t expected from a small child.
“i didn’t kidnap him,” satoru scoffs, placing the boy’s bag on the floor near the front door, “i actually saved the kiddo.”
“pff, yeah, right.” you dismiss satoru’s dramatic words as you kneel down to be at eye level with the little boy, “what’s your name?”
“megumi.” the kid answers in a quiet tone. he didn’t seem to be scared nor nervous about being brought here by a stranger.
you look from megumi towards satoru, who was staring down at the two of you—laid back as per usual. his hands were in his uniform’s pockets, body leaning against the wall.
the two boys seemed pretty relaxed about everything based on the way they were acting. and there you were, the confused and clueless one of the trio, “did you bribe the child with candy or something?”
“i wouldn’t fall for that.” megumi unexpectedly replies, earning a slight giggle from satoru and a mildly shocked expression from you.
“plus, if i had a choice, i definitely wouldn’t have left with a weird guy like him.” the little boy adds with a blank expression, though you could see the subtle side eye he was giving your classmate.
“hey!” satoru’s grin immediately transforms upside down, “now ya listen here, brat.”
he frowns and points a finger at the child; like a father disciplining his disobedient kid.
the difference between the two being that satoru was failing horribly. the only thing satoru could reply with was a small ‘tsk,’ and a mumble about how ‘little kids these days are extremely disrespectful.’
“respect is earned.” megumi answers matter-of-factly once he had caught on what satoru muttered under his breath.
“hey, hey, hey.” you interrupt before things escalated any further, “that’s enough.”
you were secretly amazed at megumi’s advanced vocabulary at such a young age. not that you’d say that right during a situation like this. satoru might even throw a dramatic and childish tantrum about it and assume that ‘you’ve taken sides’.
“alright, give us a minute, megumi. i need to have a small talk with satoru.”
you flash megumi a warm smile to which he quietly nodded. he seems to listen to your words without hesitation; a great sign that he was getting a bit more comfortable.
“come here and explain this entire thing.” you then whisper to the white-haired man, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into your dorm room.
you noticed the way satoru was still huffing and puffing, acting like a bigger child than the actual one standing at the front door.
satoru reluctantly plopped down at the edge of your bed. he was leaning back against his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him.
“ya know that one guy, right?” he starts off vaguely and in a small voice so megumi wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation, “the assassin from the zen’in clan that attacked geto and me within the jujutsu barrier.”
“…yeah.”
you saw the slight change in satoru’s expression. it was clear he was not too fond of thinking back to that incident, no matter how many times he may try to act tough on the outside and say that it wasn’t that big of a deal.
not that you’d blame him either; you’ve heard a few gruesome rumours about how that fight went down. you weren’t there when it actually happened (hanging out with shoko instead), so you can only ever imagine the pain geto and him went through.
“well, that’s his kid.” satoru answers with a sigh, cocking his head to the right towards megumi standing in the distance.
your jaw almost drops to the floor at the reveal. you looked from megumi to satoru and back, wondering how he had even found the child.
satoru takes off his glasses, playing with them a little before going on to tell the rest of the story.
he tells you about toji’s last words, the sum of money the zen’in clan offered toji for his child to be sold to them, the inherited techniques megumi has and the fact that toji had left megumi alone with his half-sister to fend for themselves.
after the thorough explanation, you sat there silently on your bed, staring at your socks. there truly weren’t any right words to say to all the information given to you. the only thing you confidently could say was that you were feeling sorry for the kids.
“so..” you clear your throat, tilting your head up to see look at satoru, “you’re gonna take care of him now?”
“and his sis, yeah.” satoru shrugs as he puts his glasses back on and runs a hand through his hair.
“i wasn’t not gonna leave the brat behind.” he adds with a sigh, “enough adults have failed him and ‘m not planning on being one of ‘m.”
you smile to yourself as your gaze lingered on the boy next to you. ‘adult’, huh? you thought to yourself.
satoru’s just a teenager himself, though when it comes to taking care of others, he seems more mature than ever. he’s caring, loving and affectionate, all in his own unique way.
satoru finally looked back to see if megumi was still at the front door. to both his and your surprise, the kid had walked further into your spacious room.
your eyes immediately noticed that megumi had politely placed his shoes near the entrance, along with his jacket which was neatly folded on a chair. megumi had great manners and it showed.
“what’cha doin’, kiddo?” satoru asks as he stands up from the bed and walks over to megumi who had taken an interest in the aquarium you had placed in a far corner.
as expected, megumi didn’t react to satoru’s words and just continued to stare at the fish swimming around; his eyes glimmering due to the lights reflecting off the glass.
“don’t ignore me.” satoru scolds the kid while ruffling his black hair. it wasn’t really a scolding, more of a soft and gentle reminder which didn’t hold much meaning.
you join the two and stand next to satoru behind megumi, “do you like the fish?”
“i do.” the first grader nods at your question, making satoru whine as he took great offense at the fact that a small kid was purposely ignoring him.
“oh, so you can respond to her and not me? ‘m feeling, like, suuuper offended right now. can you believe it?” satoru continues his small tantrum with a pout.
judging purely by personality, you could say that megumi was acting the adult part right now.
“grow up, satoru.” you tease with a sigh.
“you’re taking sides!”
there it was; satoru’s one and only defence which you had heard plenty of times before during his many childish arguments. you just giggle at satoru’s pouting and whining, letting him continue complaining to himself.
your eyes focus back on megumi. you couldn’t see his face from the angle you were in, however you caught a quick glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the aquarium.
the kid somehow seemed more at ease now; he even had a small smile on his face. you didn’t know if it was because of satoru’s bickering or due to the enjoyment of watching the fish in the water.
satoru’s voice slowly trailed off once he noticed the kid—who hadn’t smiled once since meeting him— finally show an ounce of joy.
he parted his lips to say something, however was quickly interrupted by you nudging his side with your shoulder as a sign to let megumi enjoy the moment.
the white-haired male shut his mouth immediately and grinned from ear to ear, forgetting his own tantrum as the three of you now silently stared at the small aquarium.
it seemed like megumi had found his forever home.
and it didn’t seem like he was the only one either.
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anqelically · 10 months
Text
they have nightmares about you headcanons pt.2
featuring...! chuuya nakahara, ryunosuke akutagawa & sigma
content: no manga spoilers, comfort
navi | bsd masterlist | pt.1
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CHUUYA NAKAHARA
• you were cheating on him in his nightmare
• the day seemed to be going normal for chuuya. he left work to come home to something that was anything but normal. another pair of shoes were at the door- a guy’s shoes. that’s when everything turned upside down
• he hurried into your shared home when he found another guy’s hands all over you. and it wasn’t just anyone, not to chuuya. his former brown-haired partner separated his lips from yours before he sent chuuya a smug grin
• meanwhile, you could only look at chuuya sadly before looking back at dazai. it broke his heart to see you just wrap your arms around dazai a bit tighter, not daring to defend yourself
“hm, seems he came back a bit sooner than we thought, huh?” dazai hummed.
“shut up,” you murmured, “you’re the one who lost track of time.”
• when he woke up, that sense of being betrayed hit chuuya hard. his heart raced as he turned his body around to look at you, who was just innocently sleeping
• he knew you’d never do such a thing, but dazai’s grin was taunting him in his head. and as if you could sense his troubles, you began to wake up. you tiredly rubbed your eyes as you looked at chuuya, who seemed spooked
“hey,” you asked, concerned, “what’s wrong? you look hurt…”
“my mind was messing with me, that’s all.”
you watched as chuuya tried to play it off, but it wasn’t working. you were no fool. you were the most perceptive out of the port mafia executives, so no one could hide anything from you, especially not your boyfriend.
“you look a bit paler than usual, chuuya. sweat’s dribbling down the side of your head as well. tell me what happened. i’m all ears.”
• once you’ve heard everything, chuuya feels embarrassed. you joined the port mafia after dazai left, so you don’t even know the guy
• not only that, he was both frustrated and upset that you had the audacity to cheat on him with dazai of all people in his nightmare. trust and loyalty are qualities chuuya holds dear, and you happened to break them
• you laugh it off before telling him that it’s normal to feel that way. you continue to comfort him and once he feels better about it all, chuuya holds you close. his arms are wrapped around your waist as the two of you fall asleep again
• this time, he finally gets to punch dazai in the face (yes he is happy, even if it’s a dream)
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RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA
• you were kidnapped in front of his eyes in his nightmare
• nothing scares this man more than having something important slip out of his grasp. in this scenario, you were taken away from him by a group that was fighting with the port mafia. not only that, but he never seen you ever since
• when he wakes up, although he knows it’s a nightmare, there is still a heavy sense of unease in his body. akutagawa would feel short of breath, grasping at his shirt to calm down
• but when he sees that you aren’t in bed with him, he’s alarmed and finds himself rushing out of bed. he looks around the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room. when he finds you in the kitchen, he’s more relieved than he thought he’d be
“ryu?” you greet your lover in shock. cold sweat dribbled down the side of his face as he heaved, letting out a cough as you stepped closer.
it was almost 3 in the morning, and you were only up because you had the sudden urge to use the bathroom and get yourself some water.
“what’s wrong? tell me.”
• i see him as the type to just pretend nothing is wrong, meaning he’d say he’s fine and try to head back to the bedroom. you are faster to act, however, meaning that he wasn’t going anywhere without telling you what happened
• he’d react rather harshly, probably smacking your hand away by reflex if you tried to get a hold of him. though, he’d quickly apologize because he knows it’s wrong of him to do that
• getting akutagawa to confess will take persistence from you. he’s stubborn, so getting him to change his mind wouldn’t be so easy
• but once you get him to tell you everything, akutagawa feels a sense of relief. hold him close and tell him you won’t leave him because i feel like akutagawa would need that the most at the moment :((
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SIGMA
• you ended up using sigma in his nightmare
• by organization after organization, sigma was always being used. although you wouldn’t dare to do the same, his nightmare led him to believe you did
• sigma was walking himself towards his office, knowing who was inside. but before he entered, he could hear your voice as you spoke with fyodor and nikolai
“oh, he’s wrapped around my little finger like the fool he is,” you laughed. “a desperate man who can’t remember things of his past is nothing. he’ll do anything i ask for specifically, so proceed with the plan.”
• hearing that come from you had broken his heart. he awoke with a loud gasp, and his movement managed to wake you up as well. his hands were buried in his uneven layers of hair, grasping them so tightly you were afraid they may fall off
• you have to pull his hands away before you ask what’s wrong. and when you do, sigma lowers his head in shame. he probably thinks it’s wrong for him to even imagine you doing that, even if that dream was out of his control
“it’s nothing, y/n,” sigma reassured you. “my mind is playing games, i know you wouldn’t do that.”
• sigma may say that, but it doesn’t stop the fear from being instilled into his veins. what if you do end up using him? what if he just becomes another pawn in someone else’s game? sigma hates to think that way, but he can’t help it
• in need to calm down, sigma would probably go outside for fresh air. let’s be honest, the casino man definitely has a balcony connected to his room
• when you join him, sigma is already staring at the night sky. it’s also probably cold, so bringing a little blanket over your shoulders wouldn’t hurt
• he’d probably ask what you’re doing outside with him, or tell you that you should go back to sleep. he doesn’t want to trouble you further, but we all know it doesn’t matter
“nothing’s going to be resolved if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” you honestly told sigma. “if it’s about that dream… i hope you know i would never do anything like that.”
a flash of hesitation is seen on sigma’s face, and he lets out a quiet sigh, “what if you leave? what if… what if this is a dream? what happens when we wake up to reality?”
you stared at him in surprise, “you need to wake up. this, me and you, is reality.”
using the blanket you brought with you, you also wrap it around sigma before pulling him into an unexpected embrace. the dual-haired man grabs your waist on reflex, and the two of you stand like that for a while.
eventually, you take his hand and place it over your chest. beneath his slim fingers, sigma can feel the beating of your heart. his lips part at its quickened pace.
“my heart genuinely beats for you, sigma. please, don’t doubt it. the last thing i’d ever do is try to use you.”
• and that’s all it takes for sigma to lose it. crying or not, he hugs you like it’s your last :((
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note: PART TWO DONE!!! i don't like it but yeah.. also the bullet format is different so it’s easier to post my stuff to wattpad 😗
reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !
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writingouthere · 6 months
Text
So this was going to be breeding kink smut and it is that but also maybe more than that. Emotions.
wc: 5k
Content: Nanami/afab reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, no use of y/n, confessions, breeding kink, smut, confessions like we're in 2005-2012 shoujo manga, is this therapy??
You felt like there was a current under your skin and no matter what you did it just didn't go away. You weren't sure if it was because you were ovulating or if it had just been a while since you got laid but you were fucking horny.
Normally, you would just go to your room and pull out one of your go to scenarios and just deal with this yourself, but Nanami was coming back today from a mission and you had a standing date whenever he came back to town.
Calling it a date wasn't entirely accurate, the two of you were friends, the best of friends, and nothing romantic had happened before and nothing romantic would be happening tonight, no matter what the ache in you had to say about it.
Speak of the curse, there was a knock at the door. No matter how many times you told Nanami, he could just open the door, he always persisted in knocking and usually followed that up with a lecture about how you needed to lock your doors.
"It's open!"
Nanami wasn't even all the way in before he started to reprimand you. "You can't just leave your door open, do you have any idea what is out there in this city and what could easily be in here?"
You didn't react to his tone, the familiar rant almost comforting. "And you think me locking my door is going to help that?" Nanami frowned at you as he toed off his oxfords.
"Lock your damn door."
"Well there's no need for that, now that you're here to protect me," you told him cheerfully and you didn't bother to hide your grin as he blushed lightly beneath the lamplight. Before you made him flee into the night or at the very least end your date-but not actually a date-night, you handed him one of your kitchen knives and pushed him in front a cutting board. "Now come on, chop chop, those peppers won't cut themselves."
Nanami grabbed the knife and wiggled away from your hands and the sight of such a large man wiggling like you dropped a worm down the back of his shirt made you giggle as you went to check the sauce on the stove.
The two of you worked in companionable silence and you turned the volume up on the music you'd been listening to before he arrived. Sometimes you hummed along as you wandered around getting everything ready, taking the vegetables from Nanami as he efficiently worked through the stack. You felt warm and fulfilled and you couldn't think of where you'd rather be or what you'd rather be doing than cooking here with your best friend.
When everything was cut up, Nanami started doing the dishes. You were taken away from what you were doing by the sight of him rolling up the sleeves on his dress shirt, his tanned forearms flexing under the warm kitchen lighting. He quickly unlatched his watch and set it on the counter before picking up the cutting board and rinsing it under the sink. The sight of his strong hands moving under the water sent something warm and dangerous inside of you and you wretched your gaze away before you did something crazy like kiss him or ask him to put his hands around you neck like a necklace.
You added the finishing touches to everything and started to plate it, the smell making your stomach growl.
"Alright, everything is ready!" If Nanami thought anything strange of your cheerful energy, he didn't say anything and just silently dried his hands on your sunflower dish towel and turned to help you plate the food. You both took your plates and a glass of wine to the couch, walking right past the kitchen table you never ate at, and sat at opposite ends.
You exchanged some small talk as you ate and he gave you what you knew to be an extremely sanitized version of what he'd been up to over the past few days and you just enjoyed being in his company.
When you were both done eating and had put your plates on the coffee table, you didn't hesitate to put your feet up on the couch, Nanami taking them and putting them in his lap without prompting.
"What I'm hearing is that you need a vacation. Maybe it's time to finally take that trip to Malaysia you keep talking about," I told him as he finished recounting the trip. He hummed a little as he started to press into the arches of your feet.
Now, his foot massages had always given you a little flutter but right now between the dinner, the wine and the release of pressure as his beautiful hands pressed, you were nearly throbbing. You wanted to take your feet back but felt like you were on a tightrope and any movement would lead to some sort of epic collapse.
"Perhaps, are you going to be using your vacation time soon?"
"Hmm, if it means going to Malaysia maybe," you joked not thinking that you and your best friend would really go to another country together. "It would be nice to just sit on the beach with a drink and a book I would be too embarrassed to read in public here."
"What embarrassment? I've seen you read porn in public on multiple occasions."
"Yeah, so imagine the freaky stuff I've got saved for when I'm somewhere no one knows me," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.
He gently smiled across to you. "I would know you."
"You don't count, Kento," you snorted and he paused before resuming the massage currently killing your three remaining brain cells.
"Really? Why is that?"
"I mean I love you obviously," and you kept going a little quicker so he did't put any weight to what you told him all the time but he never interpreted correctly. "But it isn't like I need to hide what a weirdo I already am from you, you already know. It's too late."
"I would think you don't need to hide from anyone who's worth knowing," he said and while wise you thought he was missing the point.
"I just wouldn't start a date off by listing my kinks, that's all." Nanami laughed and his hands gripped your ankles in a way that had you purring.
"Any guy scared off by that isn't worth your time."
"Uh huh, I'll keep that in mind on my next date. Just casually drop my breeding kink while we drink cocktails and talk about how many siblings we have and how interesting that is." This time, Nanami's hands tightened to the point of almost pain against your legs before he seemed to relax and when he started talking again, you almost burst into flames right there.
"You have a breeding kink, baby?"
His tone was deeper and there was a roughness to it that reminded you of what he sounded like in the morning the few times he'd fallen asleep here. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes seemed focused on where his hands were slowly moving up to the back of your calves.
You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you gave the most nervous laugh that had ever come out of your mouth. "I don't think it's exactly uncommon, feel like it's gotten really mainstream recently. I mean the bigger issue is getting a guy to actually put a condom on."
"I always wear a condom," Nanami responds sharply and you scoff as his hands make their way to your thighs. There's too much happening for you to follow the weirdest, most stressful conversation you've ever had.
"Of course you do. I mean I do too, I'm not just going to let some random guy you know, do that," you end it with a hand gesture that doesn't correspond to anything but Nanami smirks anyway.
"I know, you're too good of a girl for that." Before you can respond, his hands have officially made their way to the hem of your pajama shorts, which now seem far too short under the fire that seems to come from his fingertips. "You wouldn't let just any guy knock you up, right?"
Your brain is screaming "Danger! Danger!" but you're not really sure how you can get yourself away and out of this conversation and honestly you're starting to get worried he's soon going to be able to see how wet you are through the flimsy excuse of shorts you're wearing, if his wandering hands don't figure that out for themselves first.
Nanami's hands pause where they are, brushing up against the inside of your thighs and he tilts his head so he's making eye contact with you. His glasses reflect the glare from the lamp in the corner of your living room but beneath that, his eyes have a look so dark that you wonder if this is what curses see right before he exorcises them.
"Kento, what are you doing?" You ask him quietly, the air seeming to tighten around you and your vision shrinking until all you could see was just the two of you.
You weren't stupid, or some naive character in a novel who continues to be confused that the love interest is hitting on her until his dick is literally out. You knew what this was building to. For whatever reason, after years of friendship, the fact that you had a fucking breeding kink was what was going to push Nanami over the edge and maybe fuck you right here on this couch. Now, your libido was very on board with that plan, but this wasn't about being horny and hormonal. Or about how hot your best friend looked in this lighting, and in every lighting, because you might believe in God sometimes just looking at him. This was about your friendship. There was a reason this hadn't happened before, you were too important to each other to throw away your friendship or risk it carelessly.
"I'm not sure," he said and before you could reprimand him or reestablish boundaries he moved closer to you so he could grab your hands in his. This touch was more innocent than what he had been doing before, but your heart pounded in your chest and you wondered if he could feel it as his thumbs rubbed against the pulse points in your wrists.
"I care about you, so much," Nanami started and you squeezed his hand to show you were listening. "I think about you all the time. Even on this past mission, whenever there were moments where the conclusion of the fight felt uncertain I just thought about you and how I couldn't die because you were here waiting for me."
He paused, eyes so sincere and you knew that there was a before this moment and after. "This isn't about some fucking kink, or me wanting to stake a claim. I love the idea of making you mine, but it's more than that. I want to share a life with you, I want to come here after missions and stay here until it's time for me to leave again. I want to go out there, fighting because I know that I have you here to come home to."
Nanami brought his face close to yours and you couldn't help your quick gasp as his nose lightly traced the curve of your jaw until his lips finally grazed your temple. The touch so light you barely felt it, but it hit you like a shock all the same.
"You do come home to me," you told him and you let go of his hands so you could smooth them down his chest. You felt powerful as his breathing became ragged. "I wait for you when you're gone, even if it's not a mission, because home for me is you. Something is missing when you're gone," you shook your head and Nanami moved to grip your waist, his face pressed up against your cheek now.
You laughed a little, still shaken. "I mean that's really what the whole breeding kink is about anyway." Nanami's hands paused where they had been rubbing circles in your waist and he pulled back so he could look at you, his face amused even as you could see his eyes looking a little closer to tears than you think you had ever seen them.
"What?" He asked and you smiled, looping your arms around his neck.
"It's about wanting to belong to someone and have them belong to you. Knowing that you both want to share a life together and you want everyone to see it. I mean, it's not like that for everyone, the internet really gets to a dark, dark place," Nanami smiled at your rambling and at this point you were on a roll. "But I think for me, it's feeling like someone wants me so much, they want to create a life together that's part of both of us, you know."
"Are you saying you want to create a life with me?" From anyone else you would think they were making fun of you, but Nanami looked so warm, so happy that you couldn't help smiling back.
"I don't know if it's been made clear to you or not, but I'm all in over here. If we're doing this, which it seems like we are," at your questioning tone, Nanami turned so he could press a kiss against one of your wrists. "Then I'm all in. I want the whole thing."
"And what's part of that whole thing?" Nanami asked, pulling you up to standing. He started walking you backwards towards your bedroom, pressing kisses against your hair, your hands, the hollow where your neck met your collarbones.
"Well, you need to move in. I mean your apartment is nicer, but mine has more character and I'm the one home more anyway," Nanami hummed and pushed you gently so you were sitting on your bed. You moved back as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "And, I want to get married but I don't want an engagement ring, just the band and I need you to be chill about that." He frowns a little as he slips his button down off and is down to just an undershirt that clings to his muscles.
"I don't know if I like that."
"Well, I'm not asking you. If you're really pressed about, you can get yourself an engagement ring," you tease as he starts to pull his belt out. You press your thighs together but it does nothing to alleviate the ache between them.
"I think it would clash with my watch," he says lightly as his belt comes out and he folds it before putting it on the chair by your bed. Your heart warms at such how typical of him it is to not make a mess even now.
"Before I continue the list of my demands, there's something I need first," you tell him and his eyebrows go up.
"And what is that?"
"Kiss me, preferably before we're both naked." He blushes, and all parts of this are strange but wonderful and now Nanami is crawling across your floral comforter until he hovers above you and the way his body blocks out the remaining sunlight and the light peaking from the living room makes you preen and suddenly his hand cups your cheek.
"Now how did I forget something like that?"
"I don't know, but let's get this show on the road-" Nanami interrupts you by finally, finally pressing his lips to yours and it's the best way anyone has ever told you to shut up.
You notice his lips are soft and think briefly about what chapstick he must use before your ability to think coherent thoughts is taken from you as he lightly bites at your bottom lip. Even after you gasp, he takes his time before trying to taste inside your mouth, it drives you crazy. When he finally opens his mouth you to you, you hummed pleased, and you can feel his smile as he presses you deep into the mattress.
Nanami's hand are at your waist and when they start to pull your shirt up you briefly separate so he can fling it to the side of your room, in sharp contrast to how he neatly removed his own clothing. You don't have time or the brain capacity to comment because takes advantage of your newly unveiled skin to move his mouth down your body, taking his time at your neck and the curve of your waist. He moves down the bed and when he gets to your shorts, those are thrown to where your shirt is. All you have left is your underwear and even though they're just a pair you have designated as lazy day underwear, which means calling them granny panties is generous, Nanami still looks at you like he's never seen anything sexier and that makes you feel sexier.
Nanami makes eye contact with you as his fingers brush against the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips up in permission and he slowly lips them down your legs, laying light kisses to your thighs and calves and he works them down.
You had imagined this moment before, and even in your imagination you couldn't imagine feeling confident in someone as perfect looking as Nanami see you naked but in the moment, everything you normally felt insecure about, it was just too small to take you away from being intimate with the man you loved and who you knew loved you.
When Nanami pressed one of his large palms against the inside of your thighs, you knew what you wanted and you couldn't help the uptick in your breath as you slowly parted your legs. No one had ever looked at you with the reverence, the devotion that Nanami was looking at you with.
"I love you," he said and you reached one of your hands down, he met you halfway and you threaded your fingers together above your hip.
"I know," your response didn't have any cheekiness. You were telling him that you saw him and the depth of the feelings he was sharing with you.
With one of his hands still holding yours, he moved the other one to the juncture between your legs and you let out a sigh as he finally touched you where you'd been aching all night.
"You know I heard all about your demands princess, but we never really talked about mine."
"Wh-what?" you stuttered, unlike him apparently you were not in a state to continue any kind of conversation.
"Your demands? The apartment, the questionable ring choice, your demands," he reminded you as he began to lightly circle his thumb and his index finger around your cunt. He barely grazed your clit on every pass he made and it was driving you fucking crazy.
"Is there a point to this Kento," you groaned out and then moaned as he finally slipped a finger in past the knuckle. You were so wet you could hear it and the little hum he let out let you know he noticed.
"I wanted to tell you some of my demands," he repeated as he continued to explore inside of you. He curved his finger and the noises come from you were new even to you. Grateful, desperate but not embarrassed, you wanted him to hear you.
"I want to call you my wife and I don't want to wait, we can go to the courthouse tomorrow and then host a bigger wedding in the fall, if you want. I just care that my ring is on your finger, even if you only want the one," this comes across teasingly as he adds a second finger. "Darling, are you even listening to me?"
"Fuck, Ken, what do you want me to say?" You try to sound cross but it across as a whine and he laughed.
"Just acknowledge you can hear me, you could try a yes, sir."
"Fuck you," you replied and he pressed a little sharper into you. It didn't hurt, it felt good and you knew he would never do anything to purposefully discomfort you. He was just also a petty man.
"So impatient, I'm getting there." You whined when he pulled his fingers out, but before you could complain his tongue replaced them and this cued another desperate noise from you.
You thought of Nanami as a neat, orderly sort of man. He had folded his clothes before getting into bed with you after all, an absolutely mind boggling behavior but not surprising coming from the man who couldn't go to bed if there were any dishes in the sink.
Despite this, the only way you could describe the way Nanami was currently eating you out was sloppy. He moved purposefully and it was a far cry from the boys, you could only think of them as such, who had tried before, even the ones who had truly given it their all. The messiness felt like part of that purpose, like he wanted to show you that he loved your pussy so much he couldn't go about it in a sensible way and it was fucking driving you insane.
You felt your orgasm approaching and when you told Nanami you were coming, he didn't change a single thing he was doing like the gentleman he was and when you came he gentled his touch as you rode the waves of the best orgasm you had maybe ever had.
"Fuck, how have we not done that before?" You laughed and pulled on the hand that was still wrapped in yours, to encourage him to come up to you, but Nanami pushed you back down.
"I'm not done, I'm still hungry."
As he kneeled back down, you laughed again but this time a little frantic.
"You don't need to do that I'm again, I'm ready-"
"Actually, you're wrong. See, this is one of my demands," he says as he teases your entrance, still sensitive. "I need to taste you every day."
You scoffed even as he moved lower. "Well, that's just not realistic." You could swear you see him roll his eyes before putting his mouth to you again and that removes even your deep rooted skepticism. If there was one man to put your faith in, you supposed it was the one eating you out like it was his last meal.
By the time you were coming again, you were surprised that none of your neighbors, as chill as they usually were, had started banging on the walls or called the police just in case.
"Fuck!"
You weren't really capable of speech anymore and when you came for the second time, you squeezed Nanami's hand until you were sure if he were a weaker man, you would have broken something.
Nanami gave once last nip to your inner thigh that had you shaking before he began kissing up your body, lingering on your hip and your neck before he came face to face with you. He hovered over you and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours and you moaned at the taste of you on his mouth as he lowered more of his weight onto you. He still had his boxers on and you could feel the press of his hard cock on your thigh. You lazily ground against each other until you could feel the leak of his pre-cum through the fabric.
"When are you going to fuck me," you asked, the brattiness in your tone would have embarrassed you if you weren't so desperate for him to be inside of you. Nanami paused in his movement against you and smiled, the warmth in his eyes taking the smugness out of his grin.
"I'm getting there," he said and you humphed impatiently and reached down to tug at his boxers. He let you and pulled them off to join your own discarded clothes. You couldn't wrapping your hand around the length of him, thick and hard in your palm, the head shiny and calling you to put your mouth you him. You licked your lips and Nanami groaned before messily taking your mouth in his.
"Stop looking at me like that, I'll come in your hand," he said and you moaned at the thought.
"Why don't you come in my mouth instead," you teased and went to get up so you could do that but Nanami shook his head and kissed your neck.
"Later, I want to be inside you." You kissed him and he took your hand off his cock and pushed your thighs open to welcome him in. Before he could finally, finally, finally, put himself inside you, he paused and looked at you.
"Do you have a condom?"
You did but you bit your lip which you noticed moved Nanami's attention to your mouth which made you preen a little before you focused up again.
"I do," you answered slowly and then wondering if you had lost your mind continued. "I'm not on birth control," you told him and wondered if you needed to ask what you wanted to ask but he knew you so you didn't.
"Okay," he said and you noticed the grip he had on your thighs tightened. "What do you want?"
"What do you want," you countered, still a little afraid of being completely honest about how gone you were and the fact it was currently making you very irrational.
Nanami laughed a little but the sound wasn't particularly humorous and it made you clench in a way that reminded you of how empty you still were.
"I want to knock you up, is that what you want to hear," he slid the head of his cock over your folds and you whimpered and tilted your head back, leaving room for him to kiss down your neck. "Any children I have, I only want them to be yours," he said it almost like a confession and you felt your eyes well up with tears.
"I want to have your baby, Kento. Please, please, please," you started to plead with him and he moved back to he could look you in the eye.
"Are you sure, because we don't have to, we can wait-"
"For fuck's sake," you say and you move your hips so he slips in to you, finally and Nanami tightens his grip before thrusting in, both of you groaning at the feeling.
"So impatient," he teases but he sounds too wrecked for you to take it to heart. "My greedy girl wants my baby that badly?"
"Yes," you tell him, no shame to be found in you. You roll your hips and he gets the message and he starts moving in a hard rhythm that removes all thought from your brain except for what he's doing to you and little baby with your hair and his eyes.
"I'll give it to you, I'll give you my baby." His thrusts pick up in speed and intensity and you can't even return the kisses he presses to you, you're too fucked out. "A perfect baby for my baby," he coos and you whimper and scratch down his back leading to a sharp response in his hips and you can almost feel his dick in your throat he's so deep in you.
There's so much going on. You have the feeling of his toned back against your hands, strands of his blonde hair messily falling down onto your forehead where he presses his face against your temple. His hands are everywhere, your hips, your thighs, your cheek when he goes to press another sloppy kiss to your mouth you can barely return.
Your orgasm almost surprises you and you can barely warn Nanami before you're coming, the waves of pleasure through your body causing your vision to black out for a second. Nanami moans into your ear and you can't help what you see in your mind as you feel him come in you.
A courthouse wedding with a few of your friends. Moving boxes into your apartment, most of them just filled with work clothes and niche kitchen supplies that only Nanami would own. You cooking in your kitchen, your belly round with this child you created together, while he wraps his arms around you from behind. Dance recitals, graduations, weddings, birthdays, your lives together happen across the back of your eyelids before you slowly blink them open to meet his gaze.
"I hope one of your demands is that we do that every day," you say and he laughs before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"As many times as you want," he promises and before you can respond he has you turned onto your stomach, letting out an involuntary whimper as he starts to harden in you.
"After all, I did promise you a baby. Gotta make sure it sticks."
So, someone's been reflecting on their reading habits and kinks lately and this kind of came from that.
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The Summer Hikaru Died and onomatopoeia
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I've wanted to gush about this topic for a while and i have no organized thoughts but a lot of feelings i need to get out. First and foremost being "Holy shit this manga is so damn loud" which is a weird feeling to have since manga is generally understood to be a silent medium.
And yet the Mangaka MokuMoku Ren has filled their work to the brim with sound. Now comics using onomatopoeia (words that echo a noise ie: crunch) is nothing new the sound of a fist hitting it's target and walls being wrecked is nothing new. But usually onomatopoeia is worked into whatever action is resulting in the noise
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adding both a sense of motion as well as sound. Which is what makes The Summer Hikaru Died's use of it so unique and compelling. To utilize onomatopoiea you have to give up on space that could otherwise be going to deatil work in the background or foreground. Now this is fine with smaller unobtrusive effects like Wolverine's claw extending, and there's numerous example's where a sound will take up large portions of the page to show how loud something like a bomb going off is. But i've yet to see another comic western or otherwise so consistently use this facet of the medium to instill such claustrophobia and dread. As a slower paced horror manga The Summer Hikaru Died builds it's suspense mostly through atomosphere, the supernatural happenings weighing on the surrounding evironment until they break the surface
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The use of sound is heavy, it's harsh, it's a vehicle to show how wrong things have gotten from the whisper of "it's coming" heard in the ringing bell of a train crossing to the omnipresent call of birds, bugs, and frogs that pushes in on the paneling shrinking the world with their cacophony.
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the way sound shrinks the world making reader and character both feel suffocated by the drone is matched by how the manga uses silence as a way to make the characters feel exposed and vulnerable. the page is now empty of distraction the world of the story on full display and it still feels wrong it's agorophobic, at least amidst the din there was some sense of anonymity being just one voice among hundrends.
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even the speech bubble feels out of place as it wanders off desperate to fill the space. The manga is full of these moments of sound and silence in some dance with eachother always too much or too little, never comfortable. It adds a lot to the horror of the manga, and is just one part of many that makes The Summer Hikaru Died such an excellent manga, every chapter I can feel my skin crawl as the setting becomes more hostile to the charactres while they uncover more of the truth of their circumstances.
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sukunasweetheart · 7 months
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the urge to throw trueform sukuna into the shoujo manga genre....
(fem!reader, sexual undertones towards the end)
it would be so funny yet so beautiful...i also think he would look so great in that flowery, feminine kind of artstyle <3-
in terms of cliche shoujo love interest, he's a lonely immortal god who is against everything that supports the notion of love... until he experiences what true love is like, for himself. you're his little servant toy that he mingles with for some time, until he realises something's wrong with his heart...
i love him for what he is, but wouldnt it also be lovely to see him in a softhearted story?? the almighty and powerful, but grows weak in the knees all because of one woman!
one day, imagine if he, the most renowned selfish man, with complete disregard for others, who had always valued himself vastly more than anyone else, comes to a point where he sees you in the way of an unstoppable attack from the wrath of an enemy, and rushes in to tank the would-have-been-fatal strike in your stead...
it happened in an instant. he didnt even realise he was moving until he had already been hit. he's bleeding for the first time in a thousand years. he's hit, and it should hurt, it should feel unpleasant, because he certainly wasnt planning to be hit, nor did he engage in this fight for his own pleasure, but for your protection.
yet, he feels relieved. you're tucked behind him safely, looking up at him with worried eyes, and he feels relieved, all because a weakling like you is alive.
after he sends you away to uraume (who gives you the stink eye), he promptly kills the opponent but becomes a little weakened temporarily afterwards as a result of the powerful attack
he's absolutely grumpy about having to be bedridden for a few days for recovery, often stares down at you with unreadable eyes, like he's in deep contemplation about his own feelings
oh fuck me, he thinks, when he finds himself wanting to comfort you as you're in tears over him, even though he's the one that's hurt.
its a confusing sensation, feeling like shit but also not hating everything about being in the centre of your concerns. look at you, feeling so guilty, so worried sick, fussing over him. as you should. he mulls over the incident where he uncharacteristically jumped in to protect you... but he's not one to over complicate things for too long. he'll just continue to do as he pleases, just like before. and if that involves showing you some affection, kissing you, holding your hand, shielding you from his woes... then so be it. if he's the strongest, if he's a god, shouldn't he also be able to save such a frail thing as you?
he orders for your presence in his bed to keep him entertained, but he doesn't even say a word when you're there laying next to him, he's only just staring at you and giving curt touches, like your body is a plaything to him. maybe palms your thighs and breasts, but it doesn't feel sexual at all.
"it's not so bad, having you in my debt," he suddenly says, as sukuna plays around with a lock of your hair. these new feelings he harbors, intrigues him just as much as they irritate him.
"i do owe you my life..." you tell him in response.
"so you're aware. and? what will you do about it?" he asks you.
"i'm not sure, my lord... what would you like me to do?"
"how sly of you, turning the question back onto me."
he thinks about it for a moment.
"well, i suppose there's nothing you could offer me but yourself," he says as he slowly undoes your robe, the other free hand grabbing your face.
"...and your everlasting devotion, to me."
as he's about to sit up to continue, your tiny hand pushes against his chest in resistance.
"you mustn't exert yourself, your wounds are still healing, my lord," you protest, much to his annoyance.
"cease your fretting. movement of this degree isn't enough to hurt me," sukuna sighs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets.
"i... i can do the moving," you tell him with determination, which earns you can amused smile.
"...oh? now that's certainly worth considering," he says, slowly letting go of you.
you carefully get up to straddle the larger man, sitting yourself down on his hips.
"alright then, my brave little devotee. entrance me."
and you do just that for him, all throughout the night. (it wasn't the first time, and it certainly wont be the last)
sukuna learns all about how some fragile things are worth keeping around.
at first, the relationship revolves solely around his own pleasure and satisfaction. but as the ice begins to melt, he sinks into a trap in which he's seeking more and more to keep your own happiness and your beautiful smile in place. he begins to hurt when you're hurting. it was exactly as he feared - his life becoming molded around one singular person who's somehow crawled their way into his heart-- his heart that should've been sealed tight.
at times, when his teasing goes too far, and your bright expressions dissolve into sorrow, his own mood drops considerably and there comes seeping in a crushing feeling in his chest.
he lifts your face up by the chin and says; "i'm only joking. don't make such a pitiful face."
but when he realises that you were merely feigning your hurt, giving him a little cheeky grin, he flies into a quick, but playful anger.
"you little minx. i've spoiled you a little too much haven't i? you're getting ahead of yourself."
he proceeds to lift you up into his arms, an extra hand keeping your wrists together, as he aims to litter his bite marks down your neck and shoulder.
"aah! forgive me, my lord!" you exclaim, writhing around in his tight grip.
but there's an audible giggle in your voice.
Masterlist
tagging; @vagabond-umlaut @yuujispinkhair @satkuna @skunaskitten @sukunastoy @theprettyarachnid @sunshine7queen @gojos-thot-patrol
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
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Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 1,542
Warnings | +18, smut dubcon(?), somnophilia, pussy worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, fingering, male masturbation, Jungkook is desperately horny, cumming on her, body worship, breast/nipples worship, explicit language and descriptions, kidnapping, Jungkook is absolutely obsessed, this is not for minors.
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This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.
If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.
She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.
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➢ Author's Note | Third chapter of Happy Ending arrived, enjoy your reading, my dears 🥰❤
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Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End
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That same night, a shadow wandered around the young woman's apartment. It had not been difficult to get there, as he had already thought, those windows were too old and easy to force, he could not allow Y/N to live in such a place. If a novice like him had managed to open the window facing the kitchen so quickly, then an experienced thief would have been able to do even better. He looked around, scrutinizing every nook and cranny, being very careful not to make any noise, noticed a pizza box on the table, with Coke cans scattered around, was very careful not to step on a single one - mentally cursing at the girl's mess - and headed for what he guessed was her room.
He opened the door slightly, which squeaked faintly because of rust, but that was not enough to wake the girl who lived in the apartment. Y/N must have been a very heavy sleeper, the boy thought. Jungkook was there for one simple reason, to take Y/N away and make her live a better life with him. Normally an art professor would not have made that much money, but professor was not his only job, he thought with a grin. The school's principal, Kim Seokjin, had his hands in everything, and someone like Jungkook was right for him. He then looked around, studying the environment to get an idea about his beloved's tastes, finding a variety of references to anime and manga, as well as books and flowers. Nothing that hinted at a passion for fashion, but of that Jungkook did not worry, he would see to it that she was dressed cute and perfect, just for the pleasure of his eyes.
Reaching just to one side of the single bed, he stared at Y/N sleeping blissfully with only part of the blanket to give her warmth, the tender lower lip protruded invitingly and Jungkook felt the urge to squeeze it between his teeth, tasting its softness. He shivered slightly when he took a flap of the blanket, pulling it aside. He slowly uncovered Y/N's body, revealing something that made the man's brain go haywire. Y/N slept in only a tank top and panties even in winter. It was a comfortable habit for the girl, but for Jungkook it was like a wedding invitation, literally. His eyes did not break away from the bare skin in the slightest while enough light filtered through the window to make that vision heavenly for him.
He slowly knelt down, a hand flew within inches of her calves, he did not know whether to touch her that way or not, she was not conscious, it would not be right, would it? The boy found himself gritting his teeth, it would only be a caress, a gentle caress. He gently laid his fingers on one calf, held his breath at the smooth sensation of her skin against his fingertips and continued with the slow ascent, felt his lips dry up when, having reached her knee, Y/N decided of her own volition to spread her leg wide, leaving a wide view of her intimacy covered by the blue panties, at which point Jungkook's blood concentrated in one spot. He took that sign as a Y/N response to continue. He climbed onto the bed gently, positioning himself right on top of the young woman, his hand opening on her inner thigh, the softest and most tender part of her leg, felt that buttery texture under his fingers and did the same with the other, thus bringing both legs apart for him, he sent down watering at that scene so erotic that it nearly drove him mad.
He felt powerful as never before in his life, he could do anything he wanted to her and she would continue to sleep blissfully. The young girl's tightly closed eyelids cast lash shadows across her cheeks, she was so serene in sleep that Jungkook found her enchanting, so much so that he leaned over her, stealing a sweet kiss on her cheek, in love with that pure little fairy of his. His. He watched for a possible reaction, but she continued to sleep. Not content, he descended lower, to the tender breasts enclosed in that wide camisole, lifted the pale fabric finding himself face to face with what, he knew, would become his favorite damnation, studied with hungry eyes the perfect color of those still soft and relaxed little buttons, barely touching with a finger the velvety, graceful circle of an areola. He trapped the tender nipple with his lips, sucking it tenderly inside his warm, moist mouth, felt it plump under the strokes of his tongue and found himself nibbling on it without too much pressure, sending small, sweet twinges to the young girl's sleeping body. Y/N, for her part, turned her head slightly, opening her mouth slightly in a moan that her brain could not fully register.
Jungkook cupped the other breast, stimulating it with the tip of a finger, squeezing it lightly before devoting his mouth to it as well, and the more he engulfed that tender flesh, the more his cock throbbed uninterruptedly in search of its dose of forbidden caresses. A pop resounded from the room as he let go of his grip on the young girl's now abused nipple, went down with moist kisses all along the girl's chest, with his sweet prey's breathing rising in response, thus reaching the lower abdomen licking a small trail around her navel, moaning silently at the taste of that skin that he would also have gladly bitten into, but he could not risk waking the girl up in the midst of his fun, so he merely descended lower and lower, reaching to the fabric of her panties. With the tip of his nose he pressed against her covered pussy, ecstatically inhaling the natural scent of her essence, he felt himself salivating and his own boxers got a little wet, he pressed his erection against the mattress moving slightly to give himself some relief, not satisfied he peeled back the fabric of the panties and almost thought he would come there on the spot. The rosy flesh of the folds opened under the pressure of his index finger, revealing the swollen clitoris and the sweet slit from which sweet transparent liquid was already leaking.
Jungkook gave a long lick that from the young woman's narrow entrance reached up to her clitoris, encircling it with the tip in a tender and insistent caress; on another occasion the boy would have cried out in the most bewitching pleasure, but he forced himself to enjoy that taste in silence. Y/N unknowingly thrust his hips into the man's ravenous mouth in a soft, slow rhythm that delighted Jungkook. That to him was the ultimate proof that the girl accepted his intimate attentions without regret. He used two fingers to stimulate the young woman's lit and pulsating clitoris, continuing with the tip of his tongue to penetrate the tight and wet slit, sucking the small quivering lips together with the unconscious girl's legs, continuing to poke and pull at that pearl now stiff and ready to explode between his index finger and thumb, teasing the soft flesh ever more insistently. "Mm... Ah...!" the girl's back arched slightly, exposing more and more of her intimacy to the boy, her body tried to keep up with that forbidden pleasure, in her mind Y/N was dreaming, dreaming of Jungkook and in her dream the boy was doing to her just what the real Jungkook was joyfully enacting in reality.
He willingly swallowed the young girl's fluids with yet another tongue caress, then replaced his fingers with the latter, cradling the pulsating clitoris in velvety lashings, penetrating the now-soaked entrance with his fingertips, the girl rigidly propped her feet up on the mattress, opening her mouth wide and frowning in a shrill howl, which was prolonged when her clitoris succumbed to extreme pleasure following a light bite from the boy, his teeth weakly crushing that taut pearl, now at the 'extreme and that gesture was enough to release its violent contained pleasure. Jungkook detached himself from Y/N's quivering body, lowering his pants and boxer shorts, took his already dripping cum cock in his hand and leaned over Y/N beginning to pump himself several times, ran his thumb over the scarlet tip increasing the speed of his thrusts, before pouring out a large amount of cum with a choked cry, smearing the girl's breasts and panties with the sticky white liquid. He looked at his work of art with devotion and affection, stroking his cock in an attempt not to let up again on those gentle discharges of pleasure, until it became completely soft again. He adjusted his clothes, retrieving tissues from the girl's bedside table to wipe off his semen, silently praying that the sweet, spicy taste of Y/N would never disappear from his tongue.
God, he would have taken her again and again on that bed, but he shook his head to himself , Y/N deserved better and wanted her awake when it happened. He wanted her to see with her own eyes how much love he would be able to give her.
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belovedmusings · 7 months
Text
“I’m not going anywhere.”
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+ MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS +
Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫
Satoru survived being severed in half thanks to Yuuta’s Reversed Curse Technique and subsequently claimed victory, but you keep reliving the moment you saw him die before your eyes. You wake up beside him one night crying from a nightmare of it, and wanting to make you feel better and remind you that he’s okay and he’s not going anywhere, he lets you take him any way you need him.
Relevant tags: AFAB reader with minimal gendered language, reader insert without using “y/n”, graphic nightmare at the beginning but it’s quick, fix-it, hurt/comfort, soft and emotional sex, handjob, fingering, Satoru’s 6-inch fingers, slow sex, praises and declarations of love, lots of kissing, love bites, riding, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, Satoru’s big cock :’) <3
Music recommended while reading: My Love (Sia), positions (Ariana Grande), Souvenir (Selena Gomez), Religion (Lana Del Rey)
A/N: no I’m absolutely not over wtf happened in ch 236 and yes I’m 100% crazy enough to still believe him when he said he’d win. He’ll win and I trust him. I have to or I’ll go crazy. Here’s this emotional smut to cope.
Read below cut:
He was winning. He was fine, he was smiling and now—
He’s not. He’s not moving, he’s not doing anything but he’s in half he’s in fucking half and there’s so much blood—
You scream. You scream but it sounds like it’s underwater and you can’t breathe, you can’t feel anything but despair and pain and dread and anger and disbelief and fucking devastation. Satoru is— he’s— oh god, he’s—
“Hey.”
You’re sobbing. Tears stream from your eyes but you can’t feel, you can’t see anything, you can’t hear, you can’t exist without him—
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”
That voice snaps you back to consciousness, a deep gasp from you following. Warm hands are on your shoulders, and you look up at the source, eyes landing upon Satoru’s concerned face. His beautiful, alive face. What? How?
“Hey,” he murmurs again softly, brows furrowed in worry as he rubs up and down your arm soothingly. “Shh, shh, shh…you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”
A dream?
“No it wasn’t,” you shake your head, voice broken. The lump in your throat won’t go away as you continue to cry. “You were…you were gone and I—”
“I’m right here,” he cuts him firmly, squeezing your arm. “Look at me. I’m talking to you, aren’t I? I’m fine. Promise.”
Your eyes search his face, his body, and blindly you reach out, touching his clothed abdomen, feeling over it to make absolutely sure he’s not lying. When you feel nothing but solid, warm flesh underneath, even when you touch down to his thigh, you relax, sniffling. He’s completely intact. He’s okay.
You remember then what had happened after he had fallen. You’d gone into a panic, threw up, and blacked out after sobbing uncontrollably after tearing your eyes from the screen that displayed his lifeless body.
When you woke up, you were lying against a wall, Shoko watching over you, telling you that Yuuta managed to get ahold of him while Yuuji and Higuruma were fighting Sukuna. He’d used his Reversed Curse Technique to heal him, and he was up and fighting again, this time facing off with Kenjaku.
It was jarring to see him back alive, like you were seeing the resurrection of a god. But it was okay. He was even stronger than before, and along with the others, he was capable of defeating both of the threats.
His victory had restored balance once more.
He’d come off of that battlefield on his own two feet, sweaty, heavily banged up and exhausted, but he had a brilliant smile on his face that said everything is fine now, and he’d welcomed you into his arms without hesitation.
“Oh god,” you breathe out, “It was a dream. Thank god.”
He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in, planting a kiss on your temple.
“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He asks, “You gotta trust me, silly. M’ not going anywhere.”
You huff, nuzzling into his chest. “Don’t call me silly because I’m worried about you.”
He sighs softly, rubbing your back. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I’m fine. So no need to worry, okay? I’m right here, however you need me.”
He is. You can feel him in your arms, you can feel him holding you, and yet in your sleep-fogged mind, you can’t help but still retain some anxiety that you’ll wake up again and he’ll be gone for good. That you imagined all of those victories in order to cope. You need to feel more of him to confirm he’s real.
“However I need you?” You ask, drawing back to meet his eyes, gleaming in the dim lighting of the moon. He nods.
“Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be otherwise? I’m yours to do with as you please.”
You can’t help it; his tone always brings out a special playfulness in you. “As I please? You sound so easy.”
“Easy for you,” he grins wolfishly, and you roll your eyes fondly before sobering up.
“I need more reassurance,” you tell him. “I want to feel you.”
He eyes you curiously, nodding. “Sure thing. What do you have in mind?”
You reach up to touch his face, brushing your thumb between his eyebrows to work out the furrow, then dancing it over his brow bone, then his cheekbone, and finally his lips. You pad it over the soft skin there before leaning up and kissing him, relaxing at the familiar taste of his mouth. He doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, lips moving with yours in a combination of slow and sensual.
The hand that was resting on his jaw slowly travels down over his neck, where your thumb runs over the column gently, grazing his Adam’s apple a few times before moving on to his collarbone. You explore that spot for a few moments and then massage down his shoulder, over his pec, flattening your palm to feel the beat of his heart.
It calms you to feel that strong thump thump thump against your touch, impassioning you enough to make you deepen the kiss and slip your tongue into his protestless mouth. A soft groan sounds at the back of his throat, and that spurs you on to continue touching him, running your palm over his muscles that were once lithe, but after time spent preparing for battle while he was sealed away to occupy himself, have turned thick and solid. You ghost over the ridges of his abdomen and shiver, feeling each contour through his shirt.
It sends a wave of heat through you and your ministrations turn heavy with desire, finding the hem of his shirt, sliding your hand underneath it and massaging over the hot skin of his naked chest. He groans and guides his own hand from your waist to your ass, clad only in underwear for comfort to sleep, giving it a generous knead.
“Mmh,” you breathe into his mouth, letting him go further to grab your thigh, hooking his hand under your knee and hiking your leg up around his hip.
His tongue runs over yours dirtily as his hand slides back up to the apex of your legs, reaching around to cup your mound through the thin garment over it. His middle and ring fingers massage over that little sensitive pearl just begging to be touched, making you moan softly.
Your lust is deepening by the second and it makes you grow bolder, palm on his abdomen lowering to the front of his boxers and caressing the sizable hardness it finds there. Subconsciously you start to move your hips with his touches, kiss turning sloppy the more you pleasure each other.
The drags of his fingertips get a little too difficult when the fabric over your core gets soaked through, so he easily amends it by slipping his fingers beneath the edge of the article, touching you without any barriers.
“Satoru,” you moan louder as he teases the swollen pearl beneath his digits. He hums in his throat, and wanting to even things out, your hand dips below his boxers, wrapping around the hard and hot erection he’s been sporting since you started kissing him.
A bead of precum at his tip makes the slide a little easier and you feel him start rocking into your hand, meeting your strokes, a breathy groan sounding from him.
He wants the upperhand, of course, so he elects to push two of his lengthy fingers into your entrance, causing you to gasp, spreading your legs wider to accommodate. The man’s digits are long enough to reach your cervix without even trying and he presses pointedly against it, wriggling the tips of his fingers against that sensitive spot teasingly.
“God, Satoru,” you mewl, touching him with more purpose, circling your thumb over his tip.
“Ngh,” he groans in response, moving his hand so that he starts finger-fucking you at a pace, the wet sounds reaching your ears along with the heavy pants from the both of you. You clench around him and he speeds up, abusing that part deep inside of you just with his hand.
You love it when he fingers you but it’s not what you want right now—not truly.
You look up at him, shuddering at the look of unbridled lust pooling in his cerulean eyes. He always gets this certain wild look that gives you goosebumps.
“Satoru,” you manage breathlessly.
“Yeah?” He asks, just as winded.
“I want you inside me. I need to feel you.”
He sucks in a breath and nods, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling his fingers out of you. He rolls to lay on his back, raising his hand up to his mouth and running his long tongue over the digits coated in your essence, a deep groan sounding after. It invigorates your desire for him and hurriedly, you remove your soaked underwear, freeing him of his own boxers afterward.
He sits up for a moment to get his shirt off, tossing it off the bed and then grabbing your hips, making you straddle his thighs. His hands hook under your shirt and you raise your arms so that he can remove it, the two of you now bare as the day you were born.
He wastes no time in kissing you again, this time more desperately, using one hand to guide your hips over his large cock, the other holding it still. He slides inside as you lower yourself, girth forcing you to stretch generously.
“Fuck,” you breathe into his mouth. You’re familiar with his impressive size by now but it never ceases to light a fire with your nerve-endings, length stuffing you full even before he’s bottomed out. You shudder and push him down to lay out on the bed, following him, breaking the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck. His palms grip the tops of your thighs as you lay on his chest, your skin touching everywhere. He’s so warm and sturdy beneath you, you feel like you could stay like this forever, tucked into him, split open on his dick, nestled deep inside you without any effort. You breathe in and get hit with the scent of his skin, musky and sweet in a way that’s unique only to him and completely intoxicating to you.
You push your nose more greedily into the column of his neck, moaning as he starts rolling both of your hips together slowly. Like this, his abdomen provides the perfect firm muscle to grind your swollen pearl on, heightening your pleasure.
He bends his legs to provide himself with a little barrier so that when he pushes your hips down, they don’t have anywhere to go, forcing you to take his cock deeper. It prods at your cervix and forces hot chills over your body, your hands bracing on his shoulders helplessly as he does all of the work.
You inhale deeply as he grinds up into you, walls fluttering around him, eliciting a groan from his syrupy voice.
It sends a shiver through you and wanting to chase it, you flick your tongue out over his collarbone, licking along the flesh to taste him.
“Oh,” he grunts, sucking air through his teeth as you feel him twitch inside of you. Encouraged from his response, you do it again, closing your lips around the spot and sucking. A stuttered breath is pulled from him, your hold on his arms tightening.
Like this, you just feel so safe, so content. He’s all you could ever need. Sure, he’s insufferable sometimes and his personality goes overboard naturally, but he’s never too much for you. He’s serious when he needs to be and so sincere in his sweetness, in his affection—you don’t know what you’d do without him. You thank any god that might exist along with the stars that he survived, that he prevailed and that everything is fine now. Your chest swells with all of the gratitude in the world and it spills over.
“Satoru,” you breathe, feeling tears prick at your eyes, “I love you so much.”
You feel him swallow thickly as his hands rub comfortingly up and down the expanse of your back, kisses being pressed to the top of your head.
“Me too, baby,” he replies softly, voice slightly strained with the distraction of heat around his cock. “I feel the exact same way about you.”
You sigh shakily, littering sloppy, wet kisses over his neck, starting to roll your hips in time with his.
“I’m always gonna be here,” he continues between labored pants, “You…you can’t get rid of me. Mmh—you’re stuck with me for life.”
Your kisses begin to be accompanied by involuntary whimpers, the sensation of him locked inside of you along with his smooth skin rubbing against your sensitive bud starting to overwhelm you.
“I’m gonna…h-hah…love you so much you’ll be annoyed with me,” he continues, sucking air through his teeth, “oh fuck…so glad I have you. I really am.”
You sniffle, a watery smile spreading over your lips. A few tears escape your eyes but this time they’re of joy.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you say with your entire soul.
“Nothing can keep me down for long,” he assures you, “I promise, okay? I promise.”
You nod against his neck, moaning when he speeds up, hands controlling your movements to meet him thrust for thrust.
“Sh-shit, Satoru,” you mewl, feeling your climax start to approach. His breathing gets heavier and more ragged, chest rising and falling so prominently that it jostles you on top of him, indicating that he’s just as wrecked as you are.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he exhales thinly, “Oh shit, shit, god you’re so tight…I’m gonna…”
You choke on a gasp, eyes squeezing shut. He always rambles when he’s nearing his finish, control on his words slipping, and you think it’s the hottest thing in the world.
“Ngh,” he gasps out, guiding you faster on top of him. You clench at the feeling, nearing the peak—“oh fuck, it’s gonna, it’s—a-ah, ah, fuck…”
You feel exactly when he cums, cock twitching hard as he spills against the entrance to your womb. The feeling of release pouring coupled with his incessant grinding on your mound pushes you to climax, a full body shudder taking over you as you tighten around his member.
He groans at the feeling, giving you another spurt of release, hands moving up to hug you close, pressing his cheek to your forehead.
“That was so good,” he breathes.
You nod in agreement, kissing his neck once more.
You know this is the part where you get off of him so you can clean up to get back to sleep, but you don’t want to move at all. You’re completely sated now, and the feeling of his softening cock inside of you is comforting. Undeniable proof that he’s right here with you in the form of a dull stretch in your core.
“Let’s stay like this,” you tell him, and he chuckles softly.
“It’s just that good, isn’t it?”
You snort softly, raising up to meet his eyes. “You’re such a little shit.”
His smile is lazy and mirthful. “Ah, but I’m your little shit. By law you have to deal with me forever, sorry.”
He shrugs in a way that indicates he’s not sorry at all, and your grin widens.
“I’m happy to deal with you forever.”
His beautiful face is radiant with the next smile he gives you, and when your lips meet in a soft kiss, you realize that all of the anxiety and fear that nightmare had left you with has been melted away.
Satoru is real, and he’s okay. He really isn’t going anywhere. He’s safe and warm and set to live a long and happy life by your side.
When the kiss ends you lay back down on his chest, and he takes to drawing invisible circles over your back with his fingertips, the steadiness of his breath, the sureness of his heartbeat, and his comforting scent all lulling you to a peaceful sleep with the promise of his presence tomorrow.
___
A/N: I actually miss him so much to the point where it’s debilitating. I’m literally a widow at this point I might as well put a picture of him in a fuckin locket and wear it like he sent it in his last letter to me, like Gege u bitch that was our husband
Please don’t repost my work but feel free to reblog/share. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed :)
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awearywritersworld · 7 months
Text
late nights and possibilities
gojo satoru x reader summary: a late night run in with the man you thought you hated changes your perception of him entirely w/c: 1.4k tags/warnings: smidge of angst to fluff, smoochin, mentions of trouble sleeping, it's implied that you're a teacher too, gn!reader, platonic!nanami, no use of y/n a/n: no manga spoilers, but all the angst floating around threatened to crush my barely beating heart, so i have crawled out of my hole to write this. masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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"i can't stand him, ken," you groan at your friend for what is probably the thousandth time.
he's situated in the arm chair in your apartment, while you're sprawled across the couch.
"mhm," he hums along, his eyes never leaving the book in his lap.
"i'm serious. the next smart ass comment he makes, i'm going to grab him by the neck and-" you make a violent gesture in the space in front of you, huffing frustratedly.
nanami snorts, equally amused and bewildered. they were obvious to him, the repressed feelings shared between you and gojo satoru. in fact, everyone at jujutsu tech was privy to it, save for the pair of you.
it's only when you continue complaining that he finally closes his book, leaning forward to regard you with raised eyebrows.
"are you alright? you only gripe like this if something is really bothering you."
your mouth falls open. "i'm not griping. it's a simple matter of truthful observation."
"yeah, yeah. whatever you say. you're still avoiding the question."
you sigh. "i'm fine. haven't slept well the past few nights is all."
he settles back into the chair, and if you knew him any less, you would have missed the concern that flickers across his features. "any reason why?"
you wave your hand dismissively. "not really, just kinda happens sometimes. it'll pass soon enough." a stifled yawn marks your apparent disinterest in the matter.
he accepts your answer, though not without mumbling something about your habit of drinking caffeine in the evening, then returns to his book.
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as you lay in bed that night, you roll your eyes while thinking back on the conversation. you hadn't one bit of caffeine since the morning, yet you're still condemned to consciousness as the hours grow late.
no matter how tightly you pull the blankets around yourself, you can't get warm enough. and no matter how frequently you adjust your pillows, you can't get comfortable enough.
with a defeated sigh, you eventually throw the covers back, crawling out of bed with the hope that a warm cup of tea and the fireplace in the staff lounge might be able to lull you to sleep.
your feet drag with each step you take and you find yourself thankful it's not too far from your room. rubbing at your eyes, you slide the door open and though you sense another presence, your bleary vision keeps you from seeing them clearly.
once he calls out your name, however, you consider sliding the door shut and resigning yourself to yet another sleepless night. "what are you doing awake? it's two in the morning."
you don't process the uncharacteristic softness of his tone, your response tumbling out of your mouth without much thought. "thanks, big ben. i hadn't noticed."
by now your vision had returned to normal and you see him standing a few meters away, eyeing your obvious hesitation as you stand in the doorway.
you're caught off guard by his worn out appearance, as it's seldom he's anything less than irritatingly chipper.
"sorry," you begin. "i should go back to my room."
"you can stay, if you want." he scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flickering toward the kettle whirring off to the side, apparently sharing in your desire for some tea. "there's enough water for two cups."
"okay," you agree after a moment, though it comes out so quietly you're unsure if he could even hear it.
padding over to the couch in front of the fireplace, you're pleased to find that it's already lit, the soft light from the flames flickering across the walls in a soothing way.
it's not long before he joins you, sitting just a foot or two away and passing you the tea he'd prepared. you can't help but notice how small his cup looks in his hands.
"thanks," you murmur.
it's silent after that, the only sound in the room coming from the crackling of the wood. you briefly entertain a vague notion about how odd it is for the man to be so subdued.
gojo keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, observing how the flames dance in your own. you fail to notice.
"i haven't poisoned it, you know," he eventually says.
you jump a little, having spaced out, and look to him before your gaze shifts to your tea. the reassurance makes you narrow your eyes in (mostly) feigned suspicion.
"oh for gods sake." he pulls it from your grasp, taking a sip of it before shoving it back into your hands.
you're not sure what possesses you, but you let out a small giggle at the action. he follows suit, a breathy chuckle passing his lips.
maybe it's the lateness of the hour, or perhaps a touch of sleepy glibness, but easy conversation falls between the two of you after that. he asks you about your latest mission with yuuji, then tells you about a new mochi shop he recently discovered, suggesting that you tag along next time he goes.
the fire isn't nearly as lively now and your tea is long gone, so you reach for a blanket, unfolding it before situating yourself beneath it.
"are you just going to leave me out here all alone in the cold? c'mon now, that's just cruel."
a furious warmth creeps across your cheeks, a small smile tugging at your lips. god, you really are sleep deprived.
"careful," you warn, spreading the blanket over his lap as well. "some people might interpret that as flirting."
"hm, only some? i'll have to work on being less subtle, then." his arm moves to the back of the couch, resting behind your head.
you turn to face him despite the fact that your face now feels even hotter than the dying fire, and for once, you can't seem to think up a witty comeback for the shameless sorcerer.
he thinks the look on your face is just too cute.
then, without any deliberation— as if he had meant to do it all along— he leans forward and kisses you. it's fleeting. so quick, in fact, that if it weren't for the shit eating grin on his face, you'd be questioning whether it happened at all.
ohhhh. you must have fallen asleep at some point and while you're happy to finally get some rest, you could have done without this very strange dream.
"it's not often i see you speechless, sweetheart."
however, when his hand brushes your hair behind your ear, then rests comfortably against your cheek, the goosebumps that spread down your limbs feel very real, indeed. it's the sound of your name falling from his lips that finally grounds you in reality.
the grin is gone from his face, replaced now by a soft, lazy smile. "can i kiss you again?"
you glance down at his lips before nodding almost imperceptibly. "yes."
his mouth finds yours once more and this time, you're struck by how gently his lips press against your own. you hardly notice his hand moving to the back of your neck, the other toward your hip hoping to pull you closer. you're too caught up in how sweet he tastes.
it's a miserable sort of ecstasy, really. the way he feels against you isn't like anything you've ever experienced and it forces you to come to terms with feelings you've spent the last few years trying to deny.
when he pulls away, his expression is one of warm contentment. "can't tell you how long i've been wanting to do that."
"me too," you admit, feeling less shy.
and just like that, you're both back to your easy conversation. you don't know who finds sleep first, or what time it finally happens, but it's a deep and dreamless slumber you fall into...
nanami (who spends a considerable amount of time in the staff lounge for someone who insists he isn't a teacher, but that's beside the point) stumbles upon the two of you the next morning. your head is resting against gojo's chest, your hand on his stomach. his arm is wrapped around you securely and you're both still sleeping soundly beneath the blanket.
the blonde turns around, shutting the door behind him quietly, before venturing off to collect a well earned fifty yen from utahime.
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satoruxx · 7 months
Text
HAUNTING ME TONIGHT.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 0.6k words
✧ SUMMARY: this is a coping mechanism for today's jjk leaks so...SPOILERS AHEAD, blood, mentions of death, ANGST, gojo centric, vague af, hints at canon manga events, he goes back and forth between his past and present self, overall confusion bc he doesn't understand what really happened to him, it's bittersweet ig, idk man my emotions are all over the place rn
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: looks like it's a trend for me to write a gojo drabble every time the leaks fuck me up lmao. somehow after weeks of writer's block i managed to spit this out. here's part 1 from back in june when the neck slice happened. this and part 1 don't connect all that much but it's sorta hinted and i wrote this as a continuation. this can be read alone tho. whatever i'm so fucked up rn i'm gonna go back to crying...
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satoru thinks there's blood in his mouth. he can taste it, metallic and coppery as it fills his pharynx and seeps into his throat.
he tastes it even when his body is free from scars and sunlight warms his skin.
it’s comforting, he thinks, the feeling of carefree youth he hasn’t been able to experience in almost ten years. the grin that's stretching across his face makes him forget the blood.
he’s choosing to focus on them instead. focusing on the faces he hasn’t seen in so long. he’s not really sure what he’s telling them, but satoru has always been good at rambling about things like death.
for a second he feels like a teacher, preaching about dying alone, but then he remembers that he’s probably still a student. young and stupid and carefree.
but for some reason, the expression on suguru’s face makes him feel oddly nostalgic.
satoru likes this. he thinks he’d like to snapshot nanami’s expression. it's strange, but it feels like he hasn’t seen him in a long time.
but that’s ridiculous because he’s still a student. he’d seen nanami in class the morning prior.
something about that is wrong. he can’t quite put his finger on it.
he’s in the middle of annoying principal yaga when he catches sight of you.
you're making a face, one that he’s never seen before. it’s half angry and half wounded, like you’ve never been so hurt in your life. the expression unsettles him, and somehow he knows it’ll haunt his nightmares from now until the end of time.
your features crumble, and satoru notices you’re going in and out of focus, so he tries to blink you back into clarity. it doesn’t work.
briefly he wonders if you’re even real.
you glare at him, eyes shining with tears and every bit of hurt in the world.
“you promised.” you hiss, shoulders drawn high and taut as your body trembles with something he doesn’t quite understand.
promised what, he wants to ask, but he finds that he can’t open his mouth to speak to you.
the taste of blood comes back again, pooling in the back of his throat. metallic and coppery.
you bite down on your lip, hard, before turning away from him.
satoru doesn’t know how to reach out to you because his body is rooted in place. it feels like his brain isn’t connected to the rest of him, neurons firing but muscles not working in coordination.
he inwardly curses.
when he looks back, haibara is grinning at him in a way that reminds him so much of someone else. he briefly thinks haibara would suit pink hair. when he catches nanami’s tired eyes, something in his impassive expression tells satoru that he agrees.
there’s a fleeting silence, and the sound of a clock ticking quietly scratches at his brain. he looks at suguru, who’s smiling at him knowingly, skin clean of any stitches, and satoru decides he should commit the sight to memory.
there’s a restlessness in his stomach now, and he feels his torso burn.
he turns back to look at you, the taste of blood now extremely strong on his tongue as he watches your figure slowly start to fade from existence.
for a second, he smells smoke, unpleasant but oh so familiar. he remembers the sound of medical textbooks turning and the echo of an annoyed first grader’s voice. a few barks of a dog follow.
through the taste of blood, he can smell bedsheets. he can smell overly sweet coffee in the morning. he can smell the shampoo you use.
he closes his eyes, smiling ruefully to himself.
you’re right.
he did promise you after all.
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mxnbi · 2 months
Text
Last but not least
⋆˚✿˖° ────────────────────
⋆˚✿˖° Bonten!Rindou X reader
⋆˚✿˖° SYNOPSIS It was finally time for Rindou to have his turn with you, what better way to end the 3 week journey than in the car?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
⋆˚✿˖° CW: car sex, fem! reader, overstimulation, cumming more than once, quite a bit of dirty talk
⋆˚✿˖° tags: rindouxreader rindou haitani tokyo revengers tokrev tokyo rebenji bonten haitani brothers roppongi brothers nsfw smut rindou smut anime manga anime smut manga smut fem reader car sex
21+ nsfw smut, minors DNI
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You thought that you’d be used to coming to club by now, but your heart pounds against your chest at the thought of what’s to come.
Under specific instructions from Rindou, you came commando. Feeling extra bare, your thighs subconsciously stuck together as you walked. A subtle breeze lifting your mini skirt occasionally.
Unexpectedly, you saw the well dressed man waiting for you by the club entrance, a cigarette between his lips as he rested his back on the wall.
His suave demeanour made your heart jump for a second, his aura different from the first two you could confidently call sickos. Really sexy sickos that is.
None the less, you confidently walked towards him, still putting on that bold front you had from three weeks ago.
The clacks of your heels caught his attention. Rindou looked up and greeted you with a small smile. One that stopped you mid tracks as you expected a colder acknowledgement.
“Hey, let’s head back to my apartment. I got Ran out of the house for tonight.”
Rindou gently motioned you in the direction of his car and you followed his lead.
To say you were delightfully confused is an understatement. His calm and polite attitude makes you wonder how he could hang out with such lunatics all day, especially when he’s related to one.
The walk to the car was a comforting and peaceful journey where you forgot that you had nothing on under that skirt. It almost makes you wonder if you are even getting laid tonight.
“Alright here we are.”
Before you could even reach your hand out for the door handle, the door is already wide open with Rindou standing right by it.
You hesitantly sat in his car, almost too afraid to dirty his expensive car seats. Stress and anxiety filled your head as you worry about your bare pussy pressed against the spotless white leather.
Your train of thought was cut short by the thud of Rindou slamming the door shut. You watched him start the car and zip out of the parking lot, all while still in a daze.
“You’re a lot different than I thought.”
You awkwardly laughed.
Rindou glanced at you with a clear hint of curiosity in his eyes, all while still facing ahead.
“Is it because I didn’t want to fuck you in a dingy club full of drunk and smelly people? Or the fact that I held the door open for you?”
You giggled at his sly remarks aimed at his trio mates.
“Yeah I guess, you seem so…polite and calm.”
The car was filled with his soft laughs.
“Baby I may be a gentleman, but I’m never up to anything good.”
The conversation flowed like a smooth river, as if you guys had talked for months. The chemistry was unmatched and you have never felt so comfortable around someone you met at a club.
“Don’t be mistaken though, I may have this polite demeanour but I’m still phenomenal in the sheets.”
The sudden detour of the conversation shocked you a little, fidgeting in your seat to hide your shyness.
Rindou immediately noticed how your mood shifted. The way you turned your head towards the window and squeezed your legs together just gets the blood pumping. He wanted to push you even further beyond your limits.
“I don’t know what kind of expectations the two clowns have given you, but whatever that’s happening tonight will make you forget them in an instant.”
The way his sultry and smooth voice coats your ears makes his cocky words twenty times hotter. It makes you wonder just how good his cock, no, even just his fingers would feel up against your walls.
Seeing you in such a fluster tightens Rindou’s pants by the second, and right now, he simply could not wait any longer.
He makes a quick turn and stops by an empty road side, parking his car and rolling the windows up to prepare for what’s to come.
Seeing that you’re not parked by an apartment, you looked over in confusion only for Rindou to lock lips with you.
A yelp escaped your lips, obviously shocked from the sudden physical contact, but you weren’t hating it.
His big hands held the back of your head gently, holding you in place as his tongue touched every part of your mouth.
“Mm god… I see why they wanted to fuck you so bad now. You just taste so good.”
You moaned into the kiss at his praises. His hands roamed your body from your neck, to your chest and down to your ass, feeling up your naked cheeks under the fabric of your skirt.
“You really didn’t wear anything. You listen so well baby.”
Rindou whispered softly in between kisses.
You got wetter with each word that comes out from his mouth. His praise making your pussy twitch and pulse every time.
Rindou quickly pulled away, licking his lips.
“Get back in there.”
He nodded his head in the direction of the back seat and you wasted no time jumping through to the back.
Rindou himself got out of the car only to enter through the back to sit next to you and got straight to work.
His hand traced circles on your thighs before snaking up to your pussy, spreading your legs open in the process.
As he teased your soaked pussy, he bit at your neck, leaving a trail of red marks from the bottom of your jaw to your collar bone.
“Ngh fuck..please R-rindou…”
How could he ever say no to that?
“Fuck.. you really drive me crazy baby.”
And with that, he stuck three fingers into you with no preparation.
You screamed his name out loud, back arching against the back seat as he fingered your pussy hard and fast.
“Fuck! Oh my god yes…”
You leaned your head back, giving him more access to your chest and neck. He took this invite and quickly pulled down your bralette.
Rindou leaned down to pop your hard nipples into his mouth. His tongue tracing circles around the hard bud.
Your legs start to twitch and shake, a signal to show him that you were close.
Rindou saw this as an opportunity to pick up the pace, inserting his fingers into you faster than you can handle.
“Oh fuck fuck I’m g-gonna cum…”
Your thighs shuddered at the overwhelming sensation as Rindou mercilessly fingered you.
“Go on baby.”
That was all he had to say before you coated his digits in your juice.
Your chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. You failed to notice Rindou undoing his belt buckle and pant zip.
He planted a quick kiss on your temples before slowly pushing you back to lay down.
“I know you just came but..I just can’t wait any longer.”
Even in the dark, you could see a sheer tint of red across his cheeks.
He brought your right leg up to rest on top of his broad shoulders as he hovered over you.
“Tell me if it’s too much okay?”
You felt his round tip at your entrance slowly pushing its way in through your pussy lips.
You both moaned out loud at the insertion, feeling like he was made to fit in you.
“F-fuck I can’t believe those two got to try you first.”
Rindou bit his lip as he slowly thrusted into you, savouring every nook and cranny in your wet cunt.
He was much bigger than you anticipated, feeling his cock head probe at parts of you that no one has ever touched.
You looked down and saw an ever so slightly bulge at your pelvis, right where his cock resides in you.
You feel Rindou speed up, his hips slapping against your thighs while he fucks your pussy harder and harder. Wet squelching and whimpers filled up the air in the car.
“Oh fuck Rindou! Fuck you feel so good oh my god.”
He shot you a cocky smile, as if he knows how good he can make your pussy feel.
His finger nails dug into your waist as he forcefully snaps his hips back into yours. Making you scream with each thrust.
“Tell me baby, tell me how much better I am than those two clowns.”
You could barely even let out a word, your hands flailed around trying to grasp at something to steady yourself from the rough fucking.
“Fuck your cock feels so much b-better- Fuck! S-so much better!”
A low groan slipped from Rindou’s lips hearing those words.
He quickly unbuttons his shirt before playing with your clit between his fingers.
You threw your head back and let out a loud gasp at the sensation. The stimulation overwhelming you by the second but you just can’t get enough of it. You loved the duality of this man. How a gentleman like him could fuck you stupid so easily. Your pussy simply can’t get enough of him and his throbbing, thick cock.
You were at your wits end. Your pussy started to tighten around his member and that’s when he knew you were about to cum a second time.
“Aahh~ fuck..c-cumming.”
You lolled out whatever words you could put together as Rindou brought a hand up to gently stroke your head.
“Cum all over my cock baby.”
His buttery voice sends you over the edge as you creamed all over his cock. You gripped at his car seat and arched your back, cumming again for the second time, coating his dick in a goopy white layer.
You tried to calm down from your intense orgasm, but he was not done yet.
His voice drops an octave and he leaned down to whisper into your ear.
“Let’s do it one more time okay?”
You looked at him wide eyed, thinking he’s insane for what he’s about to do.
He lifted your hips off the seat and thrusted into you like there was no tomorrow.
“FUCK O-oh my god wait-!”
You screamed, begging for any crumb of mercy that this man may have on you, but your pleas fell on deaf ears.
Rindou pounded your abused cunt harder than before, moaning out loud at how you pulsed and clenched around his hard cock. He can’t help but get off of overstimulating you.
You writhed and quivered under him, the sensation of his tip repeatedly punching into your soft spot made you tremble all over.
Tears started to form, only rolling down the side of your face from how rough Rindou fucked into you.
Mascara and eyeshadow started to run down your cheeks. You could only look up at Rindou in a daze with your lips parted open, letting a bit of drool escape from the corner of your mouth.
Rindou’s cock twitched inside at the sight of how messy you are.
“Fuck you look so hot like this, I want to keep you by my side forever.”
He whimpered.
Rindou was starting to come loose. He could only handle being inside such a warm and hot pussy for so long.
His thrust started to become sloppy and his groans started to turn into whimpers.
“Mmm fuck~ god your pussy is s-so good..”
Just before he came, Rindou pulled out of you and squirted ribbons of thick, white cum all over your abdomen.
As he let out a string of curse words in the form of a loud moan, he quickly replaced your empty hole with his fingers, pumping in and out of you quick.
The combination of his sweet moans, him cumming on your stomach and his long, slender fingers made that knot in your belly snap for the third time.
“FUCK RINDOU-“
Screaming his name out loud, you squirted all over his cock and shirt, soaking him in your warm liquids. His car interiors now coated in your juice.
You legs shook uncontrollably around his waist, blabbering out incoherent words as you made a futile attempt to recover from such a session.
Rindou rested his elbow next to your head, his face just a few inches from yours before he pecks you on your lips.
The car windows now foggy after a rough fuck. Rindou looked into your eyes with softness that could only be described as endearing.
“So, I’m better right?”
You smiled, wondering how he has the energy to ask a question like that after what just happened.
You looked at him through your lashes and nodded your head sheepishly.
“I guess you could say that.”
You both chuckled.
“Well, that means that I’ll be seeing you more often then.”
Rindou says with a hint of hope lingering in his voice.
You thought to yourself — You wouldn’t mind spending a couple more nights with him.
A/N: HI GUYS SORRY FOR THE DELAYYYYY ive been soooo busy with school and everything AND ESPECIALLY WITH THE CHINESE NEW YEAR CELEBRATIONS that happened during february so im sorry this took so long but YAY part 3 is finally here and i hope you guys enjoyed my little trilogy dedicated to the best tr trio hehehe <3
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treasureofmammon · 4 months
Text
Undeniable fate
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Characters: Mammon x gn!reader
⚠️Warnings: Fluff, although there's some swearing; mentions of anger, gambling addiction, and mocking. Not recommended for very young audiences. The events in this text happen during the first chapters of OG.
Summary: You can't fall asleep without him, so you visit his room, unknownly to the day (and revelation) he had.
⏩️ Part 2: Undeniable love
Just a draft of nothing that I really liked...
✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️
—Lucifer... Did ya put' em under my protection knowing this?—
—I just knew it would be as good for them as it would be for you, Mammon...—
You slid into Mammon's bedroom, unable to get to sleep. Insomnia hitting you with all its might. And how could you, knowing that Mammon hasn't returned? You sigh, trying not to let yourself drift away into the deep waters of worry, trying to convince yourself that Mammon's gig might have extended and that he's happily milking the extra hours off the company he's doing this shooting for.
However, not having Mammon accompany you tonight, as usual, is affecting your sleep. When did he become part of your night routine? Did you always fall asleep feeling his presence around you? Comforting you with his expensive scent? Taking you by the hand while you dooze off? Guiding you with his hoarse voice to the land of dreams as you two watch a movie, read manga, or simply talk for hours?
So quietly, you sneak into his room and slide in his bedsheets, cover yourself with his duvet, and hug his pillows that smell so much like him. You surprise yourself thinking about Mammon when you hold onto his pillow, hoping it was his torso and not just a piece of fabric and cotton, hoping it was his slim figure, his well-built abs, his nice pajama shirt, or much better, his bare dark skin that you were feeling with your own hands. Maybe it's time you accept your feelings once and for all.
His smell, impregnated in the whole room, finally has the comforting effect on you that you were desperately seeking for, and as such, you feel your pretty eyelids struggle not to shut down. But you give in, finally able to escape the tiredness of a typical day in the Devildom.
How long it passed since you closed your eyes and fell fast asleep is difficult to tell, so when Mammon finds you in his room, his heart races faster than ever, threatening to free itself from the imprisonment of his chest. Mammon feels his gut fill with what can only be described as butterflies. The giddiness taking over his body, but he endures it, not giving in. The mix of feelings: happiness, surprise, love, lust, and adoration for you; all of them at once.
Mammon also gets in his bed in that cute pajama shirt that you envision him in. Gently, he replaces his pillow in your arms with himself, seeking the warmth of your body, trying to ease his emotions, and finally rest. After all, you too offer him calm and rest with your mere presence.
Mammon thinks about how long you might have been waiting for him and feels the guilt of his actions. Truth be told, he didn't want to come back home after work, afraid of his conversation in the morning with one of the witches he owns to. The evil woman, as a way of torturing him, had revealed him a vision she had:
—So, how's the Avatar of Greed holding up? Let me give you a piece of advice Mammon: you better be aware that you are in love with that human you keep at home...— with a poisonous tone of voice, mocking the demon about his undeniable fate, his well hidden feelings that he, himself, had yet to addressed. She continued —So much for a mighty demon that looks down on humans, that you, oh Great Mammon's soul mate is a very weak and average one—, she laughed.
Mammon felt a huge wave wash him over. A million things flooded his mind. He left immediately, not a single piece of grim delivered to the woman. She could live without it anyway.
That night, right after he came home, money completely spent in a casino that he visited after his gig, Mammon faced Lucifer. It was rare, but when he did, he usually had a good reason. At those moments of clarity, Lucifer secretly reminded himself why Mammon was his right hand and his trusted brother, and he couldn't help but quietly hear his younger brother's rant, usually reasonable. Lucifer felt proud of Mammon at those rare opportunities that quickly washed away as he surely returned to his reckless self in a matter of seconds.
This time, though, Mammon had barged in his office, not knocking the door, tears forming in the corner of his eyes and fury building up in his stomach. Lucifer simply looked up, his eyes meet Mammon's, and he listens, knowing this is not something that will quickly fade away as per usual.
He listens, more than once rushing Mammon to explain himself again and again; until, finally, Mammon drops a hurtful question:
—Lucifer... Did ya put' em under my protection knowing this?—, Mammon's voice is shaky, his hands in fists stressing at his sides.
—I just knew it would be as good for them as it would be for you, Mammon...— Lucifer responded, tranquil. —How could I possibly know something like that?—.
Mammon leaves his brother's office and rushes to his room. And Lucifer sighs, trying to keep a facade of stoic toughness, when, in fact, his heart shatters, divided between his obvious crush for you, mourning his one-sided love, and also, bracing himself, slowly preparing to loose his favorite brother to a human, again. Meanwhile, Mammon meets a sleeping you in his bed, finally giving in to his feelings for you, clear as day once he sees your face.
✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️
—Yeah, I love them... Fuck...—.
⏩️ Part 2: Undeniable love
[Notes: The characters depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me, meaning these are fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].
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