#like he's just not?? always paying attention at all times?? that's fine?? he might share what's in his head later or he might not?

[kingconia]

HOW TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS ACT WHEN YOU ARE THEIR FAVOURITE CELEBRITY

— ; gender-neutral ; might as well do the second and the third part with vices and first years if you want ;

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— You are his favourite fashion designer. It might sound ridiculous on some extent, but he fell in love with your collections of clothes in his early childhood;

— Not only you made an exquisite pieces on your own, but also, as a former student of NRC—most likely, from Pomefiore—you often create collections inspired by each of houses;

— Riddle's mother strongly shares his strange obsession over you, so she bought him a lot of your clothes;

— When he becomes a student, he indulges himself by ordering a special lining of clothes that will be made only for him.

•

”I see,” you nod, gripping a pencil harder as you frantically draw something on the paper. ”That wouldn't be a problem at all. In fact, I actually enjoy your ideas.”

”Really?” Riddle blushes traitorously, almost knocking the tea cup of the table. Gladly, you don't notice due to being too involved in sketching. ”I, I mean, it is pleasant to know.”

Just as rumours told, you were a very interesting, though, extravagant creature. Not in the rude way. But it seemed like an outside world hardly existed for you. All your attention was centred on your works.

”Give me two weeks, and I will finish everything,” you finally look at him, eyes sprinkling with a pure inspiration. ”Will it be fine for you, mister Rosehearts?”

”Of course,” he offers you a nervous smile. ”Take all the time in the world, please”

”Good,” you hum, standing up from your chair. ”It is pleasant to work with you.”

He nods, being completely at loss of his words. You are his idol, his legend... He doesn't know how to talk with you.

”Oh, and... Thank you for this short opportunity to visit the walls of my old school once again. It is interesting experience,” you wink at him, before disappearing in the depth of his garden.

Riddle gasps.

That is so much better than his dreams!

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Might be a controversial opinion, but you are his favourite political figure in the Afterglow Savannah;

— Perhaps, it is because you are not dazzled by his brother, always keeping your coolheaded and calculated attitude. Or maybe it is because you actually tried to help him to get involved in the country's council. Nevertheless, he strangely adores you;

— As a kid he dreamt a lot of becoming a king, and making you his consort. But, of course, his dreams were useless and quite embarrassing;

— Yet, even after all these years, are the only person, who makes him stutter. Ruggie honestly loves it;

•

”It is pleasure you meet you again, prince Leona.”

As soon as Leona makes an eye contact with you, he gets absolutely lost. It takes almost a minute from him, to bow his head before you respectfully, and to answer.

”...Farena never mentioned you coming,” he tries to sound cool as usual, but his tail is swaying nervously, betraying him. ”But, of course, you are very welcomed here.”

You nod, but stay very oblivious to his excitement. You never actually notice his adore towards you, always too focused on your work, rather than paying attention on people around.

”I had a meeting with this head of the school of yours,” you frown a little at these words, and he assumes you didn't really like Crowley. ”And his Majesty decided to bring Cheka along. Since he insisted, I couldn't deny the wish of little prince.”

”Yeah... Thank you very much for taking care of this little cub.” He mutters, tugging his own braids nervously. ”May I ask what could possibly be required from Crowley?”

Your ears perk up a little; a good sign of you being interested in the topic. Leona instantly feels smug that he was able to raise a right topic to drag you in conversation.

”If prince Leona doesn't mind, we could discuss it while walking around your school,” you suggest, now with your tail swaying enthusiastically. ”I also think, you will be interested in my proposition."

As if he isn't interested in everything you do...

”I wouldn't dream of anything better,” he answers honestly. ”Ruggie will take care of Cheka then.”

Ruggie, whose present was forgotten easily, rolls his eyes. As two of you leave, speaking in the hushed tones, he couldn't help but cuss at Leona. What an annoying brat he is.

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Quite predicable. You are his favourite lawyer in the whole world, much to his stepfather's displeasure;

— He is actually the one, who told stories about you—since you are working in the same area—but he couldn't imagine that his son will be so invested in your figure;

— Azul has a whole wall with cutouts from news about your wins in the court. He stares at it every morning, for—as he says—a manifestation a luck and success;

— He is buzzing with excitement, when Crowley invites you on the orientation day to inspire his students.

•

You let out a tired groan.

It is not the first time you are invited on lections for kids, but it was definitely the hardest one. Mostly, because there was this very enthusiastic boy, who asked you a million questions about everything. Your work, your ideals, your previous cases.

And while you could feel a great potential in him, you also was drained. That is why when you hear his voice again, you are thinking about running away.

”Excuse me, Y/n Y/s? I... I apologise for the interruping your rest time, but I simply wanted to say how impressive you are, and—”

You raise your hand, gesturing him to stop. He does so, a little bit ashamed.

”What is your name?” You ask him instead.

”I... My name is Azul Ashengrotto,” he pauses, glancing at the floor, probably, assuming you will scold him.

”Oh,” you blink in late realisation. ”I know your father. He is the lawyer, too, isn't he?”

He nods, and you finally realise where he got this persistence from.

”Well, Azul...” You shuffle in your pocket, finding one of many visit cards you carry with you, handing it to him. ”You are truly quite smart kid. And if you will still be sure in becoming a lawyer later, after your school ends, you can always contact me. I think, I could become your mentor.”

He stares at your visit cards so shocked, that you wonder if he is okay. Nevertheless, as he is speechless, you are quickly attempting to leave the corridor, before he starts asking more.

”T... Thank you very much! I will.” You hear him saying, when you are already at doors.

It is a shame you miss his screeching sounds of happiness as you left, though. People will kill to see Azul Ashengrotto acting like this.

Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡

— Another predictable answer. You are his favourite dancer;

— You dance in some different styles at the same time, and he honestly adores the way you switch so easily between them;

— ...He is crying from the pure excitement, once you try east style of dances, and Jamil listens him sobbing for an hour, while he spams your Magicam with millions of complements;

— Of course, Kalim shoves a sack of money in Crowley's face, so he could invite you on some ball in the school to perform, lmao.

•

”I am honestly flattered,” you admit shyly, while Kalim kisses your hands adoringly. ”And surprised! We, dancers, rarely appreciated as much as actors or singers... But, uh, thank you very much!”

Kalim jumps on his feet, smiling even wider with each word. Not only you danced gracefully, but also spoke this way! He is so amazed by you!

”No, no, thank you! You can't explain how much joy you bring in my life!” He practically screams, making others to glance in your direction suspiciously. ”I actually wanted to show my gratitude! So, maybe you want to have dinner with me and Jamil! Jamil's cooking is just amazing! You will love it!”

You raise your brows in surprise, but laugh quietly. This boy is very, very funny.

”Oh, that sounds nice, but... I have a special diet, so I assume I cannot...”

Before your finish your sentence, a lean and dark figure of the boy around Kalim's age appears behind you. With a slight nudge to your shoulders, he whispers, almost pleadingly.

”Please, agree to this offer. He is literally will cry for hours if you don't.”

Ah, that is supposedly Jamil...

You return your gaze on Kalim, who is watching you with big, watery eyes. You really can't say no...

”I assume... If only for an hour or, so...”

"Yay!”

Idia Shroud. 💙

— You are his favourite cosplayer, because of course you are;

— A love from the first sight, some can call it. But he is obsessed with each character you do! You nail it!

— He is not social enough to actually write comments on your photos, or even appear on the same Cons as you, so instead, he keeps his love anonymous;

— And by that I mean sending you a lot of donations, and buying all your Wishlist for new cosplays, lmao.

•

You stare at the big amount of money that came to your account this morning. The sender stays the same throughout this year; an anonymous fan named as a Hounddog666. No matter how concerning it is, you are actually flattered. Someone really loves you this much!

So, as usual, you message to him to thank for it.

His account—the only one you has—is private and closed, no photos, no names, no followers. You assume it is fake.

You:

Hello, hello! :) I just received your new gift, and I wanted to say how much I am grateful for your support. I wish I could do something for you as well, though.

Answers comes immediately.

Hounddog666:

Greetings. Please, continue to make all of us happy with your art. It means a lot for me. (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

You smiled, shaking your head slightly. How sweet.

You:

Thanks, really. Maybe we should meet sometime, if you are such a fan of mine, haha.

Perhaps, it is slightly stupid and naive decision. This person could be a possible stalker or maniac, but... Well, you couldn't help but be curious of how exactly looks a person that adores you like this.

Hounddog666:

Perhaps.

You hum as he vanishes from online.

At the meantime, Idia Shroud falls from his chair after recieving your message, making other students in the History of Magic class glare at him with disapproval. But what would they know? He is just became closer to his idol!

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Surprisingly... You are his favourite writer;

— The connection between actors and writers is always a strong one. Writers and books are a constant tools for actors that help them understand characters and their inner thoughts;

— Vil isn't an expectation! He loves your books for many years, and his only dream was to play some of your characters;

— That is why he immediately suggested his candidature on the main lead in the film adaptation of your book that was announced recently.

•

Vil huffs, staring at his reflection absent-mindedly. A closed scenario in front of him ache his eyes, making his chest to tighten nervously.

This character, whose role he got, is his favourite actually. As a teenager, he found this boy with a complicated writing, a very relatable one. And he thought, it would be easy to play him as they share the same issues and pain. Bur instead, he finds himself... Feeling worse as he does so.

Each conversation with your about this character makes him feel nauseous. It is as if he is playing himself! And for some reason that he can't understand, it is not pleasant at all!

”Here you are,” he hears your warm voice, and before he realises you are close, you already put a cup of green tea in front of him. ”Are you okay, Vil?”

He nods thankfully, accepting the drink.

He should be happy now. He met his favourite person in the world, he has a possibility to speak with you so casually. Then why, he feels so shattered?

”I am,” Vil answers. ”It is just... A hard role.”

You nod, and he catch the glimpse of understanding in your eyes.

”Trust me, I know. Writing him wasn't easy, too. Do you know why?” He shakes his head. "Because I put a lot of myself in him. And it felt... Awful. As if I was peeling my own skin from myself, layer by layer, until I was left naked in front of thousands... No, millions people. It is never easy to be sincere, I am afraid.”

Vil blinkes.

This! This is why he loves your books. It is the way how beautiful you yield your thoughts, putting them in gentle, yet piercing, words. It is about you understanding him, despite never knowing before.

He finds himself smiling widely.

”This makes me even more glad that I am playing him,” he says, more collected than before.

You laugh, patting his shoulder slightly.

”I feel the same way about you playing him, Vil. Believe me or not, you look and act exactly as I pictured him to be.”

He gasps happily.

You are satisfied with him. That's absolutely beautiful!

”I will try not to disappoint, then.”

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— You are his favourite artist whose works were introduced him by Lilia;

— He fell in love with your drawings first, but as soon as he realised that you not only draw, but also make sculptures, he fell in love even more;

— Buys and adores everything you do, but especially likes it, when you give interviews, explaining all little details and historical context behind your works. You are smart. He likes it about others;

— No surprise he commissions a gargoyle statue from you, eventually.

•

”You speak so beautiful, young prince,” you murmur, astonished by the fae in front of you. ”I... I can't explain how charmingly inspiring your stories are!”

Malleus feels unexplainable amount of joy, when he sees you pacing from one side room to another, inspired by his words. His stories.

No one ever shared his interest in gargoyles, and this kind of reaction feels... Strangely rewarding.

”It is only small part of what I have to say about gargoyles,” he assures you quietly. ”But I am glad that you find it as curious as I do.”

”Curious?” You echo his words, stopping in front of him. ”That is not curious, young prince, that is ethereal. Ephemeral. It feels like chasing a dream.”

He smiles at your excitement, baring his fangs out. He feels the same way about it. For once, Malleus's assumptions were right; you are exactly who he searched for all these years.

”Young prince,” you take his hands in yours, making his breath hitch, ”please, if you enjoy my result on your commission later, I am begging you to work with me on my next project about gargoyles. I feel like it will be my magnus opium. I—”

You continue to chatter actively, voice becoming higher with each sentence, but Malleus only can stare at you and at your linked arms. The tip of his ears are reddening. Is it even real?

Not only he will have new works from you, but also... He will be able to spend time with you?

Does you expect him to refuse?

”It will be a pleasure of mine,” he tells you, with a genuine adore in his eyes.

”My prince,” you squeak,” I already love you. Thank you, thank you!”

And at this point, others can't say for sure, who is whose fan here...

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #leona x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #kalim x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader

[heavenlyvision]

Truth or dare

Word count: 10.3k

Pairing: Kung Lao x F!Reader

A/N: I have done it !!! I have completed my Kung Lao fic, I hope it feeds you all well. It has a lot of dialogue but I think it’s fun, enjoy !!! <33

Summary: Living with both Raiden and Kung Lao is a lot of fun but it can be exhausting, especially since Kung Lao likes to play stupid games.

Warnings: 18+ only, lots of dialogue, smut, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, no use of y/n, I think that’s all !!!

Today you have already been to work and done your shift, but that doesn’t mean you’re free from being there, Kung Lao and Raiden love madam Bo’s and you do too but having just finished a shift here and then staying as a customer is worrisome for you. Every time you’re here on your own time you get nervous about being asked to cover for someone or work an extra hour, it’s only happened a handful of times in all your years of working here but still, the fear lingers.

“Hey, you with us?” Kung Lao snaps his fingers in front of your face.

You’ve been staring at him mindlessly, not even taking in anything he was doing or saying, “Yeah, sorry.”

Raiden asks you, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just thinking.” You give him a polite smile.

“Worrying more like,” Kung Lao amends.

“Was not,” was too.

He argues, “You were, had your worried expression on and everything.”

“Whatever,” you huff.

“Leave her alone Kung Lao,” Raiden is always taking your side when it comes to things like this.

Kung Lao rolls his eyes at the pair of you, “Always teaming up on me,” he exaggerates.

“We do not,” your eyebrows pinch at him.

He whines slightly, “You do, always making me do the dishes and chores–”

“–Maybe if you did them when you are supposed to, we would not have to tell you to do them,” Raiden interjects.

“You’re complaining because we ask you to do your fair share at home?” You clarify.

“See?? You’re teaming up on me right now,” he sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m getting sick of you,” your tone is teasing but you keep a straight face.

Kung Lao’s hand moves to his chest in faux hurt at your statement.

“Should we kick him out?” Raiden joins your teasing.

Nodding solemnly, you say, “I think we might have to.”

Kung Lao gasps, “What the hell guys?”

Both you and Raiden are giving each other very sombre looks, pretending to be so sad about the loss of Kung Lao from your household.

“Guys?” Kung Lao’s tone is worried.

You look to him with your brows raised, “Are you gonna do your chores without being asked?”

He looks away in thought, “I mean… maybe?”

You shake your head at him and direct you attention to Raiden, “Lost cause,” you sigh.

“Indeed,” Raiden nods at you in agreeance.

“Okay, I do not like this joke anymore,” Kung Lao says.

Raiden and yourself break and start laughing at him.

“I do not like when you guys do that,” Kung Lao complains in reference to yours and Raiden’s ability to immediately pick up on the others joke and play along completely seriously.

You shrug at him, “I think it’s funny.”

He scowls back at you.

“Lighten up,” Raiden pats his back.

“One of you is paying for lunch,” he’s taking advantage of the situation.  

Rolling your eyes at him you say, “I will pay.”

“I will pay,” Raiden argues with you.

Kung Lao turns to him, “You never offer to pay when it’s just us.”

“Because you eat a lot, plus, she paid last time,” Raiden shakes his head at him.

“I’m fine to pay again, I don’t mind.”

“I mind,” Raiden counters.

“As long as I’m not paying, I do not mind,” Kung Lao jokes.

“We won’t make you pay; you have to keep your money for the new place you’ll be getting after we kick you out,” you jest.

Raiden chuckles at you but Kung Lao makes an unhappy face.

“Don’t pout Kung Lao, I’m just kidding,” you wonder if you took it too far.

Raiden warns, “He’s baiting you, do not feel bad for him.”

“Raiden, I could’ve convinced her to do my chores for me or something, always ruining things for me,” he whinges.

“You would think she’d have learnt by now not to feel bad for you,” Raiden languishes.

“I am right here,” you interrupt.

Living with them has taken years off your lifespan, you think.

Pointing as you say, “The day I do your chores for you is the day I die, Kung Lao.”

He lets out an over-the-top groan, throwing his head back.

“Okay, enough theatrics,” Raiden says, ending the direction of the conversation.

It’s good that he did, because Kung Lao and yourself would sit here all day going back and forth with the other. The both of you seemingly incapable of ending the bit, always bouncing off the other, increasing the drama of the situation until one of you pretends to feel hurt and the other apologises. It’s not a particularly harmful thing for either of you but the never ending back and forth between the two of you harms Raiden, in the way that he gets exhausted just watching the two of you. Quite frankly, it’s worse at home, the two of you at least try to behave out in public, or you do anyways.

You look to Raiden and give him your best begging eyes, “Please don’t kick me out.”

“Stop that!” Kung Lao points at you.

“Stop what?” You ask.

He frowns, “Stop being cute to get your way.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” you shrug, feigning innocence.

Raiden rolls his eyes at the both of you, “I think I might move out.”

“You can’t leave me alone with him!” You protest, lowering your voice as you say, “I’d accidentally get him wet after midnight and he’d eat me or something.”

Kung Lao takes in a breath, ready to say something but Raiden stops him, “Do not say whatever it is you are planning to.”

He deflates at Raiden’s words, sighing, “You never let me have any fun.”

“For good reason,” he retorts.

Raiden pays Madam Bo for lunch and you’re all heading home, filling the rest of the day with miscellaneous activities. Mostly, you stay in your room and read, invested in the current romance novel you bought the other day.

In the time that you’re reading the sun sets and the front door closing brings you back to the real world, you decide it might be time that you exit your room and see what’s happened in your absence.

As you enter the living area you only see Raiden, “Where’s Kung Lao?” You ask.

Looking up to you, he replies, “He’s got that date tonight, remember?”

You walk over to him and sit down, “I had forgotten, he met her at Madam Bo’s, didn’t he?”

He nods at you, “Yeah, last week.”

Humming, you say, “A girl who has seen Kung Lao eat and agrees to a date with him is a brave girl indeed.”

Raiden chuckles at your words.

You don’t have any feelings in particular towards Kung Lao going on a date tonight, or any night really. Predominantly because he never really dates them; he goes out and either gets lucky or comes home and complains about how something they did was annoying or weird. Last time, she didn’t like tea and he thought that was a red flag and never saw her again.

“I am bored,” you whinge.

Raiden huffs at you, amused, “What do you want to do?”

“Scrabble?”

“I do not like playing scrabble against you,” he says.

You know why he doesn’t like playing against you, but you ask anyways, “Why not?”

“You take it too seriously,” he shakes his head at you.

“Please,” you pout at him, hands clasped together.

He rolls his head, sighing, “Fine, but only if you try to be normal about it.”

“If you didn’t play stupid words this wouldn’t be an issue,” you retort.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “You’re already starting.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll behave, promise.” You give him your most innocent smile.

“Okay, go get the board.” He speaks.

“Yes!” You get up to go get the board from your room, briefly you think of how much of a sucker he is.

When you come back, you set it up at the table, the both of you sit across from each other. The beginning of the game goes well, you’re pretty close in score for a while but as you both play against one another, you find it increasingly difficult to be normal. He always plays stupid words but the one he’s just put down makes you want to reach over and strangle him.

Your eye twitches as you say, “’Ax’ is not a valid scrabble word.”

“It is.” is all he says in response.

“No, and if it is, it is wrong because ‘ax’ should have an ‘e’ on the end of it to be a word.” You’re restraining yourself from getting upset about this but there is no way that is a scrabble word.

“Go get the scrabble dictionary if you don’t believe me,” he shrugs at you.

Squinting at him in scrutiny, you get up and go get the book.

Once you’ve sat back down in front of him, you flick through the pages to determine if it’s valid or not. When you find it, you are more than upset.

“Did you find it?” He asks, his voice already laced with victory.

Scowling at him, you say, “Yes… I still don’t think it should be a word though.”

“Why not?”

You’re a bit frantic as you explain, “It literally defines an axe with an ‘e’, it shouldn’t be allowed as ax when axe is spelled as axe and is also a valid scrabble word, you can’t have two words spelt differently with the same definition.”

He shakes his head at you, “Are you even trying to be normal about this?”

“I am putting in so much effort, be grateful.” His stupid word is stupid and outrageous.

“Fair enough, I am grateful.” He smiles at you; you’re frowning at him.

Taking a deep breath, you give him his stupid twenty-four points, since he got a stupid triple word score with his stupid two letter made up word.

It’s not long after that when Kung Lao walks in through the front door. He sees you both playing scrabble and remarks, “You guys are like two old people in a nursing home.”

You ignore his comparison, “You’re home early,” you comment, not looking at him, instead staring intently at the board.

Raiden is putting down his next word and you swear to God if it’s something ridiculous, you’re flipping the board. He’s currently 20 points ahead, and he’s only winning because of his bullshit word.

Kung Lao walks over to you both and stands behind you, watching over your shoulder. He winces at your letters because how do you currently not have a single consonant.

“She wouldn’t stop talking about her ex, it was weird,” Kung Lao explains. “Babe, I’m sorry but you have the worst letters right now.”

You turn around and slap at him, “I know that, thank you babe,” you huff out at him, you didn’t need his commentary.

“You never call me babe,” Raiden directs at Kung Lao jokingly and you chuckle at him.

You abruptly stop laughing and say to him, “Don’t make me laugh, I am so annoyed at you right now.”

“Why do you keep agreeing to play scrabble with each other? It never ends well.” Kung Lao states. “By the way, one of you spelt axe wrong,” he observes.

“See? Even Kung Lao thinks it’s wrong!” You point at Raiden accusatorily.

“I don’t think it’s wrong, that is objectively spelt wrong,” comes Kung Lao’s reply.

Raiden opens the dictionary and shoves it in his face, “It is right there, it is legal!”

“How many points did you get for it?” Kung Lao asks, squinting at the book to read it.

“Twenty-four,” you grit out.

Raiden is proud as he says, “I got a triple word score.”

You’re seething in your seat; you still haven’t gotten over it.

“Who’s winning?” He asks.

You feel like you might strain yourself, “He is, by twenty points.”

Kung Lao cringes, “Yikes.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, “Try not to flip the board.”

“I’m not going to flip the board.”

“You did that one time I played against you,” he reminds.

“Because cwm shouldn’t be a word,” you pout.

“It is though,” he shrugs at you.

“It shouldn’t be though!” You scowl at him, “Still annoyed about that.”

“And that’s why I won’t play scrabble with you anymore,” he tells you.

“You guys act like I am the crazy one, you’re the ones putting down stupid words,” you whinge.

Kung Lao places his hand on top of your head and shakes you lightly. You slap him away, “Stop it.”

He chuckles at you and moves across the room to flop onto the couch.

“Did it not go well?” Raiden asks, looking at his letters.

Kung Lao looks at him with his brows raised, “Are you deaf or something? I said before, she spoke about her ex the whole time, it was uncomfortable.”

“Ah that is right, sorry, I am distracted.” Raiden’s reply is dismissive, trying to determine his next move.

You snicker at the both of them; you find their interactions funny.

“I am sorry about your stroke of bad luck Kung Lao,” you look at him pitifully.  

His eyebrows frown at you, “What do you mean?”

Raiden answers for you, “Every date you go on at the moment, you either strike out or there is something “wrong” with her.” He uses finger quotes on his use of ‘wrong’.

“That is not true,” Kung Lao protests.

“Mmmm yes, it is,” you counter.

He huffs, laying back down, “Whatever, when’s the last time either of you got any?”

You decide to make a stupid joke, “Earlier, we did it while you were gone,” you keep your voice even and steady, trying to be convincing. You lightly kick at Raiden under the table, asking him to play along.

Raiden looks to you, his face straight as he says, “Yup, was great, real hot.”

Hearing Raiden say that almost makes you lose it laughing on the spot, but you soldier on.

At what you’ve both ‘confessed’ to, Kung Lao shoots up on the couch and looks between the two of you, “Actually?!”

“Yeah, best I ever had,” you say, Raiden looks like he might injure himself across from you.

Kung Lao is in disbelief, “You guys have to be joking, there’s no way!”

You nod your head very seriously, “There is, it was the only way Raiden would play scrabble with me.”

“Mhm, yeah, that was my condition.” Raiden confirms.

“I’m about to lose my mind, what the hell?” Kung Lao’s tone seems like he’s stressing himself out. “Why would you– I mean– with Raiden???” His attention is completely on you, he looks lost and maybe a little upset? You aren’t sure.

You smile at him, your lips shaking with how much you’re trying to contain your laughter.

“She is joking,” Raiden says, ending the joke quicker than you usually would.

“Boo, why’d you tell him so soon,” you complain.

Raiden looks over to Kung Lao, “Because he looks like he’s about to pass out.”

The both of you are lightly chuckling at the whole thing, Kung Lao looks confused.

“So, you two didn’t sleep together?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.

“Not tonight,” you tease.

“WHAT?” He exclaims.

Raiden clarifies, “Not any night.”

You give Raiden a thumbs down in response, he’s ruining your fun.

“I think I just aged twenty years,” Kung Lao says, “I need to lay down,” he lays himself back down on the couch, being overdramatic as usual.

You shake your head at him, “Why would you care anyways?”

“I have rights,” is his ominous response.

Your eyebrows pull together at his odd behaviour, “You sure do, buddy.”

“Alright, play your word, I want to end this game,” Raiden says, bringing your attention back to scrabble.

Sadly, you lose to him by ten points, and you feel cheated. His stupid word is what got him the win. You object to him about it, but he ignores you, too pleased in himself with his bullshit win.

“I am never playing scrabble with you ever again,” you huff, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.

Kung Lao calls out to you, “You say that every time you lose to one of us.”

“And then you get bored and beg us to play against you,” Raiden finishes.

“I do not beg,” you sulk.

Raiden reminds you, “You did earlier, said you’d behave and everything.”

“What? Every time she asks me, I get threatened, not begged.” Kung Lao complains from over on the couch.

You shrug at him, “You aren’t as much of a sucker as Raiden.”

“I’ll remember that you have just said that,” Raiden says.

Smiling sweetly at him you reply, “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at you faintly, immediately forgiving you, “It’s fine.”

“You are a sucker,” Kung Lao directs at Raiden.

You laugh at the both of them, “Alright, I’m going to bed, good night.” You get up from your seat and start walking down the hall to your room.

“Wait,” Kung Lao calls to you, making you stop where you’re standing.

You wait for him to continue, he lifts his forearm off his eyes to look at you, “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah, in the evening though,” you inform him.

“Alright, good night,” he says.

“Good night,” Raiden says as well.

You hum to the both of them and wander off to bed for the evening.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

The next day when you wake up, they are both gone, already having started their days while you slept. There isn’t much you feel like you can do currently, feeling stuck in waiting mode for your shift at work. It isn’t for another handful of hours that you have to get ready, but you don’t feel like you can do anything in the meantime. So, instead of going out, you stay home and read some more, do some odd cleaning, and get upset remembering how you lost at scrabble last night.

They both probably won’t play against you for a couple months now since you got pretty close to flipping the board last night. It doesn’t matter though, when they won’t play you, Madam Bo does, and she at least uses real words. She’s the one who taught you to play, and she doesn’t appreciate their stupid words either, so it’s always nice to play with her. Preferable even.

As you watch the sun hang low in the sky you think it’s about time to get ready for work, you consider taking the scrabble board with you but ultimately decide against it. Staying late to play scrabble isn’t something you want to do tonight, maybe if you had a day shift instead. Next time, you think.

As you walk into work you take note that it is busy-ish, busier than usual, it’s the end of the week and people are hungry, coming here to treat themselves instead of cooking at home. Which is good… just means there is more for you to do.

It’s towards the tail end of your shift when Raiden and Kung Lao walk in, sitting in their usual spot. You realise now, Kung Lao asked you last night when you were working so they could come in during your shift. They usually walk back with you if they’re in the area but if you’re working a later shift one or both of them will come in towards your finishing time so they can walk you home.

It’s sweet that they do, it’s also handy because sometimes the customers will relentlessly flirt with you or wait until you finish the shift and try to hook up with you afterwards. Having Kung Lao and Raiden here prevents that from happening, though, it’d be better if you being uninterested and saying no was enough.

As you make your way over to their table, you get stopped by a familiar face, he’s a regular you haven’t really interacted much with.

“Hey…” His voice gets awkward as you stop in front of him, like he wasn’t expecting you to pay attention to him. He’s kinda cute, in an awkward and shy sort of way.

“May I help you?” You ask, in customer service mode.

He scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “Uhm yes… well not like, I don’t need help… I um… wanted to tell you how pretty you are…” He’s stumbling over his words and blushing insanely hard. It’s endearing.

You’re kind of into it, thinking back to what Kung Lao said last night you realise it has been a while since you got any action, dating and otherwise.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to say,” you smile politely at him, okay so you’re a little rusty on the flirting front too.

He looks a little shocked at your openness to his clumsy flirting, “…Would you, like to go on a date? With me? Some day?”

You go to reply to him, but Kung Lao has walked up to you, “You know, it’s kinda rude to leave customers waiting, babe.”

“Give me a minute,” you look at him, frowning politely, trying to get him to understand that he needs to leave… right now.

“Oh, are you guys… together?” The cute stranger asks.

You say, “No.”

As Kung Lao says, “Yes.”

You look at him dubiously, confused by what he’s doing.

The man sitting at the table looks even more confused than you do, “I’m really sorry, I’m lost,” he says.

You exhale before speaking to Kung Lao, “Go sit down, I’ll be at your table shortly.”

He looks at you, gaze scrutinizing. You have no idea what’s gotten into him, this is the first time he’s interrupted you while with a customer. Normally if you need help, you handle it yourself or look to them, but you didn’t prompt his help.

He huffs slightly as he walks back over to the table, Raiden mouths ‘sorry’ at you, feeling badly for not being able to stop Kung Lao. You make a note to yourself to ask Kung Lao what he was thinking just now.

“I am so sorry, that was my roommate,” you direct your attention back to the shy man in front of you.

He looks relieved, “That’s okay… so, um… about going on a date? With me?”

“I think I’d like that,” you say.

The both of you exchange names and numbers and you say goodbye to him, needing to get back to work. Which means going over to Kung Lao and Raiden’s table.

Walking up to them, you ask, “Are you guys ready to order?” You’re using your customer service voice on them.

“Don’t be mad,” Kung Lao moans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I’m just here to take your order,” you reply, tense smile on your face.

He turns to look at Raiden, pleading, “Do something.”

“I would like some tea,” Raiden smiles at you, trying to avoid worsening the situation.

“What kind?” You ask.

“Surprise me,” he’s being tugged on by Kung Lao but is ignoring him.

You nod and go to turn around but Kung Lao tugs on your apron, causing you to stop and look at him, “Yes?”

“I am sorry,” he mumbles, letting go of your apron.

Grabbing the top of his head and making him look at you, you tell him, “You better be, you embarrassed me.” You let go of his head, patting it once.

“I didn’t mean to…” he frowns at you, smoothing his hair back.

You hum your reply, “Mhm, I’m so sure.”

Raiden asks, “Did he ask you out?”

You nod at him, “Yeah, we exchanged numbers.”

Kung Lao makes a face of displeasure, prompting you to ask, “What is wrong now?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs at you, “Just thought he was weird.”

“He was nice,” you counter.

He immediately asks you, “Why are you even interested in him?”

You consider your answer, “He’s cute, and seems nice.”

Raiden is exasperated with the two of you, choosing to check out of the conversation. Looking away from the pair of you, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.  

“People always hit on you, you never give them your number,” Kung Lao recounts.

Shrugging at him as you say, “You’re the one who’s always saying I never get out.”

“It’s not like that’s a bad thing,” he retorts.

You roll your eyes at him, this conversation is going nowhere, “Whatever, I’m done talking about this. Do you want some tea?”

He folds his arms over his chest, pouting slightly, “Yes.”

“Okay,” you chuckle a little at his response, finding his sulking cute.

Turning around you go to get their tea. They’re only buying something so that they can stay until you finish your shift, which looking at the clock, you have less than an hour left of it.

The rest of your shift goes by quickly, which you’re thankful for. You’re ready to get into bed, tomorrow is the beginning of the weekend and it’ll be the first one you have off in a while. Lately, you’ve been covering all the weekend shifts. Madam Bo is low on staff and the staff that she does have other than you, don’t want to work the weekend shifts.

Picking up the slack doesn’t bother you that much, but you have been experiencing some burn out lately, overworking yourself a little. Which Madam Bo noticed and refused to let you come in this weekend.

When you are ready to leave, Kung Lao and Raiden are waiting for you out the front.

You come up from behind them, “Thank you, for walking me back,” you tell them, grateful that they both care for you.

“You are welcome,” Raiden says, smile polite.

Kung Lao pats your head, “You attract weirdos, someone has to walk you home.” He jokes.

You’re rolling your eyes at him as you flick his hand off your head, “Not nice.”

“Sorry,” he apologises quickly, “It’s not your fault.”

You hum at him, “It’s fine.”

The three of you begin your walk home, the stars are beautiful, there’s so many of them out here. As you walk in between the two of them, you feel an overwhelming affection for them both, your hands slip into theirs; holding both of them at the same time and swinging them back and forth.

They both allow it, letting you have your moment.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

With the late finish last night and your recent exhaustion, you sleep in until later in the day. You wake up confused and lost, like you’ve lost ten years or something. Blearily, you look at the clock on your wall, it’s one in the afternoon. You think? You’re having a hard time comprehending the minute and hour hands on the clock right now.

Getting out of bed, you wander through the house, looking for one of the other two. Raiden isn’t anywhere to be found but Kung Lao is sitting in the lounge, snacking.

“You’re finally up,” he observes as you shuffle into the lounge. You feel like a corpse, “Geez, are you okay?” He asks you.

Shaking your head at him is your response, you don’t feel like talking yet.

He pats the cushion beside him for you to sit on. Which you do, shuffling forward and collapsing into it, knocking into him on your way down.

“Is it after one?” You ask him.

“If by after one you mean it’s two, then yeah,” he chuckles at you lightly, “You sure you’re good?”

“Mm fine, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You have been overworking yourself, figured you could use the extra sleep,” he shrugs at you.

You grunt at him, “I feel like I’ve been in a coma.”

“You look like it too,” he teases, putting his snack off to the side.

The expression on your face is one of displeasure at his comment, you move past it though, instead asking him, “Where’s Raiden?”

“I dunno, out doing stuff?” His response is unconcerned.

Shaking your head at him you say, “You didn’t ask him?”

“Nah,” he’s still unbothered.

You can’t tell if he’s not curious enough or if you’re too nosey. “You need to ask more questions.”

“Maybe you need to ask less,” he retorts.

You roll your eyes at him and get up, retreating back to your room, “I’m going back to my room.” You tell him, choosing to change and freshen up slightly.

“Okay,” he hums at you thoughtlessly.

He doesn’t leave you alone for long though. You’re reading on your stomach in bed when he knocks on your door, he’s only been alone for twenty minutes but he knows you’re awake now and he likes company.

“Come in,” you call to him.

He walks in and flops down on his back next to you on your bed, “I’m bored,” he complains.

“When aren’t you?”

He just groans at you in response.

You’re exasperated when you ask, “What am I meant to do about it?”

His head turns to the side to smile at you, “I am so glad you asked.”

It’s your turn to groan now, you regret asking just from the look on his face.

“I wanna play a game,” he informs you.

“What kind of game,” you ask, voice laced with your uncertainty.

His smile turns just slightly evil, “Truth or dare.”

You drop your head into your mattress between your arms, your hands are still holding your book, “Isn’t that a game for a bunch of horny teens?”

He takes your book from your hands and chucks it to the floor; you pop your head up to look at him, “Hey!” You protest, “don’t break my book about it.”

“It’s a way for us to get to know each other better,” He argues against your prior question.

You side eye him as you say, “I already know far too much about you.”

“Come on, I’m bored,” he whinges.

“Kung Lao, this is a dumb game, if you wanna know things about me, just ask.”

He rolls his eyes at you, uninterested in your suggestion, “That is boring, plus in truth or dare you have to tell the truth, it’s the law.”

“Are you going to be annoying about this if I refuse?” You ask, already knowing that he is.

“Probably,” he shrugs.

Your face drops back into the mattress, “Fine.”

He celebrates, “Nice! Okay, I’ll be nice and you can ask first.”

“Truth or dare?” You drone into the fabric of the bed, voice muffled.

“Truth,” he answers.

“Lame,” you tease, “I dunno what to ask you.”

“Anything you want, free reign,” he says, eyes looking to your ceiling.

You whine into the bed, “Too much power.”

“You are such a wuss,” he chortles at you.

“Shut up,” you think on it a bit longer, “Mmmm, oh okay! Why did you interrupt me and that guy last night?”

“Dumb question,” he criticises.

You look to him, head still flat to the mattress, “Gotta answer, your rules.”

He scowls at your roof, “Didn’t like him.”

“Why not?”

He tuts at you, “You gotta wait till the next round if you want to know,” he looks to you, both your faces are close to each other, “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” you answer.

He hums as he thinks of a question, his gaze mischievous as he settles on what he wants to ask, “How many people have you slept with?”

“Dare,” you change your answer and lay your face back into mattress.

“You can’t do that,” he’s laughing at you.

You mumble to him, “I just did.”

“Fine, I dare you to answer my question then.”

“You are such a loser,” you protest, sighing as you answer, “One.”

“I was expecting a higher number,” he says.

“Sorry I’m not a whore like you,” you tease.

“I like being a whore, thank you very much.”

You hum to him, not interested in actually answering him, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He answers, you look to him and he’s smiling cheekily at you, premeditating that you were probably going to ask him the same question and trying to avoid it.

“This is not fun,” you whine.

He purses his lips at you, “I am having fun.”

“’Course you are.”

“Just give me the dare already,” his hand taps your shoulder blade.

You decide to play the same way he did with you, “I dare you to tell me when the last time you got laid was.” You’re hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine, perhaps make him uncomfortable but you aren’t that lucky.

“Probably… a month, maybe.” He answers with no hesitation, “I see you have lowered yourself to my level,” he laughs at you, pleased by you using his same strategy.

“I have so many regrets,” your face is still pushed into the sheets, you’re refusing to look at him.

“I miss sex,” he sighs.

“I’m not bothered.”

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“Not your business,” you tell him.

“You’re gonna have to answer cause that’s what I’m gonna ask you whether you pick truth or dare,” he pokes your side.

Slapping his hand you say, “I don’t know, when was my last relationship?”

“Like two years ago,” he answers for you, voice shocked.

“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”

He sits up suddenly, “No wonder you don’t miss sex, you have forgotten how good it is.”

“It was never that great anyways,”

“Oh, you poor thing,” his tone is laced with pity, genuinely feeling for you, “I feel so bad for you.”

“Well stop, I’m literally fine,” you huff at him.

He rolls you onto your back and looks down at you, “Hurry up and ask me truth or dare, I have more things to ask you now.” He looks a little too excited right now.

You don’t want to know what else he wants to ask you, “I don’t think I wanna play anymore.”

“Come on! It was just getting good,” he’s staring at you very intently, it’s making you feel self-conscious.

Looking away from him and already regretting this, you ask him, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

You decide to bring it back around, “Why didn’t you like the guy at Madam Bo’s?”  

He scowls at your question; he seemingly doesn’t want to answer this one question.

“We could always do something else,” you try giving him an out, mostly you’re trying to give yourself an out.

He keeps eye contact with you, “No… I don’t know, I just didn’t like him or how he was looking at you.”

You feel a little warm in the face under his gaze, “What does that mean?”

He smirks at you, “Nope, my turn now, truth or dare.”

“Does it even matter what I pick at this point?”

“Nope, not really,” his eyes are alight, amused at all of this, you guess.

You give him the response he wants, “Truth.”

“Your last partner, he ever get you to finish?”

“Kind of?” you wince at your answer.

He prompts you for more information, “What does that mean?”

“I guess, technically no?” His eyes on you are piercing, he’s waiting for you to elaborate but you don’t know if you want to, “I mean, he needed… my help?”

Kung Lao’s eyes widen in understanding, “You poor woman,” he’s shaking his head pitifully at you, “Now I understand why you don’t miss it, wasn’t any different from masturbating.”

You feel beyond embarrassed now, you reach your hand up and over his mouth, “You need to stop talking.”

From under your hand, you feel his tongue lick you, “Ew! What the hell?” You sit up properly, he’s closer to you than you were expecting.

He laughs at your disgust, proud of himself.

Your eyebrows raise at him, “Can we be done with this now?”

His own eyebrows pinch in thought, “Mmm, no.”

“Kung Lao,” you whine at him, frustrated by his persistence, “If you are so bored we can play scrabble.”

“I am not playing scrabble against you anytime soon,” he shoots back, “Plus, this is way more fun.”

“For you maybe,” you mutter before collapsing back onto the mattress.

Kung Lao’s eyes trace up your body, lingering on every part of you, “Have some shame Kung Lao,” you joke.

“We could kill two birds with one stone?” He proposes.

This is already headed in a suggestive direction and being the more responsible of the two, you feel like you should shut him down.

He doesn’t let you talk though, “I miss sex and you don’t know how good it is,” his eyes are burning into yours, he’s completely serious.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you tell him honestly.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” he presses, “I guarantee you’ll thank me after.”

Your gaze is stern as you look at him, “This could irreparably damage our friendship.” Your choice of words leave an opening for him.

“But you are considering it,” he blinks at you, ignoring your concerns and instead focusing on the small window of opportunity you unintentionally left.

Your eyebrows pull together, he just wants to get his dick wet and you’re the one here right now, “You’re working yourself up, go have a cold shower or something.”

He chuckles, “You want to die not knowing how good I am?”

You rolls your eyes at him and his cockiness, “Your ego is taking up so much room in here, why don’t I leave you alone with it?”

His hand is bold as it rests on your thigh, “I think… you are interested in what I have to offer.”

You’re trying your best to be unaffected by him but he is cute and has such strong looking arms, his biceps are defined and muscular. The hand on your thigh is large and warm, his heated gaze is hard to avoid, it’s making you warm all over.

Being touched by him is overwhelming, you haven’t been touched by someone intimately or otherwise in a long time and it’s making your skin buzz.

“Truth or dare?” He asks suddenly, pulling his hand away and sitting cross legged beside you. His eyes are still watching you.

You groan as you pull yourself up into a sitting position in front of him, mirroring the way he is sat, “I don’t think it’s your turn to ask.”

“Well, ask then,” he replies.

You huff at him, feeling confused by his actions, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to…” you purse your lips in thought, wanting to make him uncomfortable or embarrassed like he did to you but you aren’t convinced you can.

Mindlessly, your eyes flit to his hands again, they’re resting on his knees. You can’t stop thinking about his hand on your thigh, it’s quite frankly embarrassing how touch starved you are.

One of his hands reaches out, his finger hooks under your chin and raises your eyeline back to his, he’s smirking at you, “Eyes up here, babe.” His tone is smug.

“I know,” you push his hand away.

He smiles knowingly at you, “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing, I was thinking,” you try dismissing him.

He hums at you, not convinced of your answer but letting you get away with it anyways.

“I dare you to… give me a hug.” You settle on, it’s dumb and a little self-indulgent but you haven’t been held in a long time.

Kung Lao looks dumbfounded by your dare, “If you wanted a hug you did not have to dare me for one.” His voice is amused as he speaks but his hands reach out to you and pull you into his lap so you’re straddling him.

In this position your knees rest beside his folded legs as your arms wrap around his middle, holding him to you. Kung Lao’s own large arms hold you; his embrace is firm and comforting. You think it’s a little pathetic of you to enjoy this so much but you feel very content in his hold.

“You are weird,” he hums, his chest vibrates with it.

Ignoring his comment, you enjoy the hug, he is warm and firm and you think he gives the best hugs. When you think you’ve overstayed your welcome in his arms you go to move away but he holds you to him, not letting you go.

His hands roam up and down your back in a soothing motion, “My previous offer still stands.”

He lets you pull back this time but he doesn’t allow you to leave his lap, your faces are close together and his eyes are slightly lidded as he waits for your response.

You voice your concerns, “I still don’t think that’s a good idea…”

One of his hands leaves your back and grasps the side of your face, his eyes are looking you over, lingering on your lips. His thumb traces your bottom lip lightly, his soft touch and intense gaze is making your resolve shaky.

“Tell me no, tell me that you are not interested,” his voice seems strained, laced with desire.

Your reply is hesitant, “I– it’s not about that, if this ruined our friendship… I’d never forgive myself.”

His eyes are begging you, “You can blame me then.”

Something about his borderline desperation for you is making you dizzy; his presence is surrounding you and it’s making your thoughts cloudy. The hand on your face, the other on your hip, his pleading eyes, it’s all making you want him.

Maybe hugging him was a bad idea, with how close he is now, you can’t make a well thought out decision. All you can think about is him and his soft lips and how badly you want him.

One of your own hands comes up to his face, stroking his cheek bone. Instead of replying to him, you lean in and kiss him lightly, you’re timid, unsure if this is what he really wants. He sighs against you, his mouth responds to you quickly, taking control of the kiss and holding you firmly.

His kiss is hot, and wet and it’s a lot. It’s consuming, especially when he deepens it. The way he’s kissing you makes your heart leap in your chest and the longer his lips are on yours, the more eager his kiss gets.

He has a whimper falling from you and at the sound he pulls back, the pair of you are breathless, his expression is cocky when he looks at you. The look on your face is apparently delightful to him, both his hands hold your face as he looks at you.

“You have such a pretty look on your face right now,” he purrs at you.

His words make you buzz, you’re throbbing for him and it’s annoying that he’s so smug about it. To punish him, you go to move away but his hands quickly move to your hips and pull you back to him, your pussy makes contact with his crotch. The minor contact makes you gasp.

You whine at him, “Kung Lao–”

“–Can I have you?” He cuts you off, his grip holding you to him, you can feel how hard he is under you. The size and feel of him is distracting you, you’re needy, “Pay attention,” he scolds, his own need for you is overwhelming but he needs your consent first.

“Please,” you ask. He considers you for a moment and it makes you whine at him, “What?”

“Wondering if I should make you beg for it,” he replies.

“I don’t think you could,” you dispute.

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Is that a challenge?”

Suddenly, you regret your words. He may have a large ego but there is usually a reason behind it, and unfortunately, you are touch starved and needy for him. You have no doubts that he could make you beg.

You’re serious as you say, “No.”

“That was a quick change of heart,” he smiles at you.

You look away from him, “I don’t think it would be nice of you to do…”

“It would be hot though,” he counters.

The way he’s looking at you is suggestive even with the humour in his words, you completely believe that he absolutely would tease you until you begged him for it and that it probably would be hot, but with how wet and needy you are all you want is for him to fuck you nicely.

You’re shy as you confess, “I want you, now.” You hope that if you’re honest, he’ll show mercy.

His grip on you tightens lightly, his dick jumps at your admission. Suddenly, he’s pushing you off him and onto your back, flat on the mattress. He pulls off his shirt, exposing his torso to you, the sight has your mouth watering. His muscles move under his skin with his movements, and it makes you rub your thighs together for friction. His hands urgently tug your pants and underwear off at once, his haste takes you off guard.

His hands spread your thighs open, looking down shamelessly at your wet cunt, you try to close your legs, but his hands hold you apart, “You’re so wet,” he observes, and it makes you squirm against him, he’s doing too much.

He moves his eyes off your centre and looks at your shirt, deciding he dislikes it, “That needs to come off.”

You hesitate slightly, feeling very exposed compared to him but you comply and tug it off over your head, chucking it down onto the floor. He places your thighs on his hips and then his hands travel up your body, caressing your sides, before he places both hands on the mattress either side your head.

Leaning down he lowers himself onto his forearms and takes your lips in his again, his tongue immediately in your mouth. His kiss is dirty and leaves you breathless, desperate. One of his hands touches your skin again. Moving down your body to grip at your thigh, holding you to him. He then moves his hand to touch your pussy, he slides his fingers through your wetness. The feeling has you moaning into his mouth, he swallows your sounds, kissing you hungrily.

When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead to yours. His fingers caress at you, spreading your slick around, his gaze is far away as he looks at you. Eventually he can’t take it and pulls back from you, sitting between your thighs and watching his fingers play with your cunt.

“Don’t think I have ever been with someone this wet,” he groans at you, his words make you feel embarrassed, and you try to close your legs, “It’s a good thing, babe,” he assures you, not wanting you to deprive him of the view.

His finger probes at your opening, he grunts as he pushes it into you, “Poor thing, you can barely take my finger.” His tone is filled with faux pity.

You supress a whine at the feeling of his finger entering you, his eyes are completely distracted with the way you’re sucking him in. His thumb circles your clit firmly, wanting you to relax. The stimulation makes you whimper and bite your lip.

He speaks to you, “Don’t need to be quiet, preferable if you weren’t, actually.”

“It’s –ngh– embarrassing, to be loud,” you respond.

“Who told you that?” His eyes are still watching your pussy, he’s starting to withdraw his finger, pushing it right back in, a squelching noise filling the room at his actions. The sound makes a deep groan come from him.

The feeling makes you gasp, hands covering your mouth as you moan.

“I like the sounds you make, they’re cute,” he pulls his finger out just to stuff a second in next to it, you feel full as you pulse around him.

“You wouldn’t know,” you counter.

“Hmm that’s cute… you think I can’t hear you? Late at night, shoving your fingers into your tight little pussy?” Both his fingers are working you open, fucking into you softly.

His words shock you, it’s not often that you indulge and to know he’s heard you sets your skin on fire.

“Always make such cute sounds, can hear how you try to be quiet,” he purrs to you, eyes never leaving your cunt, too involved with stretching you open. He wants you to take him, he wants you to be full of him.

When in doubt, deny, “I –hah– dunno what you’re –nghff– talking about.”

He chuckles at your flimsy lie, “Can deny all you want but I know what I hear, the way you gasp and whine is difficult to forget.” His hand moves quicker, the lewd sounds in the room getting louder with how wet his words make you.

His control right now is surprising even to him, abruptly he pulls his fingers from you and the loss makes you whine. He looks to you and then shoves his fingers, wet from you into your mouth, you suck them clean and the expression on his face looks like he’s about to fall apart in front of you.

After he retracts them slowly from your mouth, he lays on his stomach between your thighs.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him quickly.

His eyes are dark, “I know, I want to.”

His hands grab onto your legs and throw them over his shoulders. He blows on your cunt just to watch you twitch for him; his gaze is greedy. And so is his tongue as he licks into you, his mouth downright worshiping your pussy as he tastes you.

Your back arches off the bed at the contact, head swimming in ecstasy at the way his tongue fucks you, his nose pressed into your clit. It’s got your eyes rolling back and hands gripping the sheets, you’re incredibly wet, getting him wet and messy. You want him inside you, you want his body on yours, want him to press his skin up against yours as he fucks you. You want him.

He moans into your pussy, his pace quickening. He’s determined to have you cumming on his face and unwilling to pull away until you do. His hands hold your thighs spread for him, his tongue laps at you, he pulls it out of your pussy hole to suck on your clit. It has you seeing stars, moans and whimpers increasing, so incredibly close to the edge.

As he enters his fingers back inside you and begins stroking your inner walls, you start to tighten around him. He hums happily into your cunt, knowing you’re so close to cumming. Your thighs try to close around his head, but his grip holds you steady, it’s the prick of his nails biting into you slightly that has you finishing around his fingers.

You release supressed whimpers as you cum and when he notices that you are cumming, he rips his fingers from you and replaces them with his mouth, swallowing your release eagerly. He moans into your cunt at the taste of you, overjoyed at your orgasm.

When he pulls back, he’s tugging his pants down and taking them off, desperate for you. His own arousal setting him on fire, so close to finishing just from making you cum. He strokes his dick languidly, the slight pressure making him sigh out in relief.  

The sight of his cock reminds you of how badly you want to be filled with him, drained slightly from your orgasm but still needy for him. He’s fucking his hand to the sight of you, one of his hands holds your thighs apart while he kneels between them, stroking himself and looking at your cunt.

“Kung Lao,” you whine at him, urging him to move along.

He looks to you, his eyes are lidded and filled with lust, but he smirks at you, “Beg.”

His word punches you in the gut, he wants you to beg for his dick. He gave you a taste of euphoria and is now withholding.

“Mm not gonna beg,” you tell him.

His voice is slightly strained, holding back a moan, “That’s really too bad.”

He leans over you, his hand on your thigh moving to beside your head, holding his weight above you. He moves the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing you and spreading your slick over the tip of his dick. You wonder if he’s going to give up that easily, but as he keeps sliding his cockhead against you, you realise you’re not that lucky. He’s teasing you, the sensation of him has you keening, wanting to moan but containing the sounds, not wanting him to have the satisfaction.

“Cause I think you’d sound really cute if you begged me,” he adds onto his previous statement.

“Hah– Mm not gonna beg,” you repeat.

“We will see,” his reply is unworried, unrushed, taking this at his own pace.

He continues moving the head of his dick through your folds before briefly dipping to your pussy hole, stretching you on him just the smallest bit before pulling away. He pulls away from your cunt and strokes himself, he moans at the feeling.

His eyes are on you and your needy gaze, “Could have it right now, babe.” He taunts, the tip of his cock pushing into your cunt again, but ultimately pulling away immediately.

He repeats the action, over and over again, pushing into you the tiniest amount, enough to slightly stretch you open on him and then pulling away before you get any kind of satisfaction. Moans spill from him every now and again, both from your pussy leaking on his cock and the way his hand moves up and down his shaft.

His resolve seems impeccable for a man who almost came in his pants while eating you out, he continues teasing you, never indulging you. He wants to hear you beg for him; his skin is burning for it.

You’re close to tears now, needing to feel him, your eyebrows are pinched together, “Kung Lao, please.”

“What was that?” His eyes look to yours.

You whine slightly as you say, “I need you… please.” Your eyes are large and pleading.

His reaction to your expression and pleas, is a large victorious smile, “That is all you had to say, babe.”

Finally, he slowly starts pushing into you, properly this time. Inch by delicious inch, he presses into you, filling you completely. Large and heavy inside you, your cunt throbbing around him at the feeling of finally being full. When he’s sheathed completely inside, pelvis pressed to yours, you both moan loudly.

“Gods, I might cum like this – hah – why didn’t you beg sooner,” he complains, leaning down so his skin is resting on yours, holding his weight up with his forearms.

You feel speechless, so full of him, your cunt pulsing around him. When he leans down to you, you wrap your legs around his waist, hooking them behind him. The shift causes him to slip deeper and he whimpers in response.

You clench around him at the sound, and he grunts, he pulls out of you abruptly and it makes you gasp first before whining at the loss of him.

“Wait – wait, what are you doing,” you whine at him, confused.

He’s holding the base of his cock as it twitches in his hand, “I almost –fuck– I almost came,” he curses, trying to control himself.

You go to whinge at him some more, but he stops you, “Need you to be quiet for a moment.” He asserts, worried your begging will push him over the edge very suddenly.

Complying, you wait a moment for him, and when he’s ready he pushes into you again, filling you perfectly. You wrap your legs around him when he’s pressed to you completely. He’s resting on his forearms again, framing your face and gazing at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert,” you say, teasing him a little.

He huffs at you, before nosing at the side of your face, “I am, but you have a divine pussy.” The compliment goes straight to your core, and you clench around him, he groans at you, “Like being praised huh?”

He draws his hips away from you, starting to fuck into you, his initial pace attempting to be gentle. He’s so big and he’s pressing up against places inside you that have never been touched, it makes you whimper and whine. The sounds are embarrassing to you and as you go to cover your mouth, Kung Lao’s hands grab onto both your wrists, pinning them to the bed.

“I want to hear how well I fuck you,” he whispers into your ear, the words send a shiver down your spine.

The pace he set changes into a fast and desperate one, fucking into you harshly and quickly. He looks down to where he’s fucking into you, groaning at the way you take him so well, he looks back to you. Wanting to see your expression. The way he’s fucking you makes your head spin, your eyes glaze over as you look up at him, his face is concentrated as he focuses on his pace.

You think he looks stunning like this, slightly fucked out and desperate as he fucks into you over and over again.

He catches the look in your eyes, “Looking at me with heart eyes, babe. What’s wrong?” He lets go of one of your wrists to hold the side of your face, “Dick so good you’re falling for me?”

If you weren’t so lost, if you didn’t feel so good right now, you’d bite back, say something teasing in nature but as he bullies his way into your cunt over and over again. You can’t help but mindlessly agree, nodding at him in response, hoping he’ll fuck you over the edge.

He relishes in your response, and he smiles at you before leaning down and kissing you. His tongue searching your mouth, making you even more breathless than his cock.

Pulling back, he watches the way you’re writhing and moaning under him, it has him right on the edge, barely fighting off his own orgasm. Only holding out by the skin of his teeth, refusing to cum before you do.

His thrusts become rougher, his pelvis grinds into your clit each time he re-enters you and it makes you flutter around him.

“You’re so close –ngh– I can feel it, cum all over me, babe.” He groans at you, “Mm the way your tight pussy is choking my dick has me right on the edge, –hah– feels so good,” he leans down to your ear, “Been doing such a good job, got the best cunt I’ve ever been in.”

All the praise he showers you with has you cumming without warning, your cunt clenching tightly around him. You moan out his name, whimpers exiting you, the force of your orgasm has you forgetting to be embarrassed. Too caught up in how good it feels to cum around him.

He moans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his dick jerking, your own release triggers his very quickly. He rushes to pull out of you, but you lock your legs around him and hold him tight, wanting him to cum inside you.

As he realises your intent he keels over slightly, grinding his pelvis into you, filling you up with his release and riding out both your highs. His groans trail off into whimpers as he grows sensitive, but he doesn’t stop grinding into you, enjoying the way your pussy twitches around him too much.

You’re off in the clouds, not comprehending much of what’s happening around you, not until Kung Lao presses kisses to your lips, slowly coaxing your attention back to him. When you feel a little more tethered to Earth you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back properly. He smiles into the kiss, pulling back from you and then pressing a final peck to your cheek.

He carefully pulls out of you, gaze watching his cum leak out of you and onto the bed, his eyes are alight as he watches your cunt pulse. Your legs kick him away, as much as they can anyways, you’re a little shaky and sore.

He chuckles at you but flops down onto the mattress next to you, turning to his side so he can look over you.

“So?” He asks, wanting to hear you say how good he knows he was.

You pout up at the ceiling, “So, what?”

“Come on, I know I was the best you ever had,” he pokes your side.

You turn to him, “I’ve only ever slept with one other person.”

“Whatever…” he looks into your eyes, “You’re the best I have ever had,” he tells you, reaching out to tug you closer to him.

You’re resting on your side now, held against him. His confession makes your heart soar because unlike you, he has had his fair share of sexual encounters.

“You are the best I have had,” you admit, even though you’d actively have to try to be worse than the last guy.

“Yes, I knew it,” he’s celebrating his win, you can practically feel the room get smaller with his growing ego.

“So far,” you tease.

“What?” He makes you look at him, “I’m it now, babe.”

You’re a little wordless, “What?”

“I’m it, if you need dick from now on, you come to me,” he asserts, “So delete that guys number.”

“And you?” You ask him.

He looks at you questioningly, “You kidding? Why would I want anyone else?”

His words make you melt, you don’t know what this is, if it’s a friends with benefits situation or something more but either way, you like it.

“I’ll delete his number if you play scrabble with me,” you smile mischievously at him.

He flops onto his back and groans dramatically at you, “Fine.”

Moving closer to him, you kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush. Yeah, you like whatever this is.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

A/N: Thank you for reading it all !!! This took me a bit to finish but I am happy with it. I struggled most with the truth or dare scene and making things flow but in the end it’s a made up scenario and we all wanna fuck Kung Lao so 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♀️ Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it <333 As per usual, if you have any requests, feelings, thoughts, questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out !!! I love you all <33 For the scrabble game, cwm isn't a misspell on my part, there is a legitimate scrabble word spelt cwm and is defined as: a steep-walled semicircular basin in a mountain; may contain a lake Ax is also just a variation on the usual spelling of axe and I think that is dumb, I like scrabble and think these two words would irk me, especially if I lost because of them lmao

#mk1 smut #mk1 2023 #smut #fanfic #kung lao x reader #kung lao x reader smut #kung lao #kung lao smut #kung lao x you #kung lao x you smut

[just-jordie-things]

blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed.  Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop.  There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table.  If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place.  The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces.  The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure.  The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest.  The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her.  As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her.  She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job.  She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall.  Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention.  His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise.  Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses.  Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor.  As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party.  She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?” 

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter.  The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’.  But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind.  Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face.  (y/n).  Certainly fitting.  Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers.  Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter.  “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face.  He prays it’s not  noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way.  She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly.  It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently.  “No offense though, these are gorgeous.  I have to say I really outdid myself” 

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it.  Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid.  “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret.  Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s.  “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon.  Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection.  He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before.  Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him.  The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack.  “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend.  She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see.  I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses.  Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident.  “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance.  Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more.  Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them.  “They’re going to laugh at me” 

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head.  “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet.  She’ll understand.  It’s a very kind gesture” 

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better.  Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake.  “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time” 

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment.  She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers.  She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well.  He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers.  As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,” 

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine.  The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?” 

And of course her first question is that one.  He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday” 

Which is an odd choice of lie.  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago.  But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought.  “Do you know what she likes?” 

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop.  “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit.  “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,” 

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them.  Oh, so those were orchids.  Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement.  “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?” 

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop.  He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more.  Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent.  Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it.  Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before. 

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly.  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands.  It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out.  “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first” 

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly.  (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly.  Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?” 

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands.  Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking.  Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement.  He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting.  “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand.  “I think your mother would adore these.  I certainly do” 

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids.  “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?” 

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets.  More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits.  “I don’t really know what else to give her.  But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up” 

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be.  “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift.  Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face.  “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?” 

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses.  (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.  

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears.  She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement.  He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” 

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number.  He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,” 

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.  He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before.  He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his.  His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here.  “But everyone just calls me (y/n)” 

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud.  “You can just call me Kento, then” 

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable.  He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?” 

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking.  “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed.  They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways” 

“I don’t consider that fair-” 

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding.  That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him.  It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart.  “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door.  “I’ll let you know how much she loves them” 

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window.  She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind.  The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!” 

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly.  Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it.  He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly.  “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks.  “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face.  He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions.  He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs.  “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform.  He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously.  “In a good way or a bad way?” 

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically.  “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?” 

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more.  “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours.  Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises.  Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort.  But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers.  “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-” 

“I thought you were an only child?” 

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant.  A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling.  He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is.  Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation.  “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else.  The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line.  She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  She’s amused.  And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face.  “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in” 

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease.  His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations.  Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully.  (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it.  “I did just… want to come and see you” 

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly.  “You’re my favorite customer, you know” 

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises.  “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies” 

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move.  That would be Gojo.  He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either.  That was Shoko’s move.  Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move.  Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her.  “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner”  ___

bonus: 

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store” 

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her.  “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy.  Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes.  It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert.  Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way.  The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly.  She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper.  “Just my favorite ones” 

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter.  His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them.  He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami #kento

[lovelybrooke]

Best Friends Forever (Platonic Yandere Death Note).

Btw some of the timeline might not make sense but whatever.

"Hello."

The tiny little text popped up, a small 'ping' sound following. You groan as your bombarded with the blue light, picking it up to read the message.

"Another message from them." You thought.

They had no name. You didn't share your names with each other. You only knew him as Justice, which he told you to call him. Personally, you thought it was a corny name, but who were you to judge?

"Why are you up so late?" You're straight forward, too tired to entertain your online friend.

You watch as three dots appear before their response pops up. "I was bored." Before you could respond, another message appeared. "You're up too."

You let out another groan that was muffled by your pillow. You know you parents wouldn't like you being up so late, so you tried to stay as quiet as possible when talking to your companion. For some reason, they were always up so late, messaging you all throughout the night.

Your fingers glide across the screen as you answer, "I'm up because you woke me up." Your response displayed a clear sign of frustration. You through your phone down onto your bed and closed your eyes until the next response. You swear, that ping will haunt you forever.

"Have you been keeping up with Kira?" They ask. This wasn't the first time they've asked you questions regarding Kira. In fact, they ask you at least once a week if you've been keeping up with everything. It's almost comical at this point.

You role your eyes while typing, "Of course, Justice, why wouldn't I? Thats basically all we talk about."

His response comes quick, "I'm just making sure. You never know what's out there."

"Why would Kira want to kill me?"

"You never know." Their response was cryptic, ending the conversation as you drift off back to sleep.

——

(Y/N)? Wake up, sleepyhead." Your sister, Sayu, cheerfully yells. Your eyes snap open and you straighten up. Your eyes dart around your kitchen, you brother Light looking at you strangely.

"(Y/N), are you getting enough sleep?" Light asks, which gets a nod out of you. He looks unconvinced as he continues eating his breakfast.

"Well, you better get ready for school, we're leaving soon." He mentions as he stands up from his seat and grabs his bag from the back of his chair. You nod once again, thanking your mom for the breakfast. Before you can even sit up, your mother is bombarding you with questions, a worried expression written all over her face.

"Oh sweetheart, you look sick." She sighs. "Are you sure you want to go to school today?" She's feeling your face for any sign of sickness, which causes you to groan and push her away slightly.

"I'm fine mom." You grab your bag and stand next to Light. "See you after school."

The worried expression still doesn't leave her face as you and Light walk out the door. "Okay sweety. Light, take care of them, okay?" She shouts. Light nods absentmindedly.

"Of course, mom."

——

"So, why were you up so late?" Light asks randomly. You look at him confused, which only gets a smile from him.

"You're my sibling, it's my job to know what you're doing." His voice is too sweet. "And plus, I noticed the light coming from your room when I was heading to bed last night." He adds on.

"I was just talking to a friend." You answer quietly. Your response was short, not wanting to tell him the truth, since you knew he wouldn't really like you talking to some random stranger on the internet. You were also too distracted by the feeling of someone watching you to really pay attention to your brother.

You do hear him laugh however, which puts a pit in your stomach. You look over at him to see a hint of a cruel look on his face. "You don't have friends (Y/N)." He mocks, grinning at the embarrassment that washes over your face.

"You don't have friends either." You argue, your voice childish and whiny. A cool breeze comes up behind you, causing you to look back, and causing Lights face to become slightly annoyed. Before you can ask him about it though, he's quickly back to normal.

"At least I have a girlfriend." He speaks.

You huff, "A girlfriend who's supper annoying." Light doesn't seem to care that you just called Misa annoying, but he doesn't talk for the rest of the walk to school, something you very much appreciate.

——

"Ping."

There's your phone again. You're sitting outside eating lunch when you get another message from Justice.

"Hello."

You finish crewing your rice before answering. "Hey. What's up?" They usually never text you this early.

They don't respond for a while, you nearly forgetting that they were messaging you as you watched the people around you converse and eat, a blank expression on your face.

"What do you do for fun?" That was a weird question. You two had an unspoken agreement of not asking each other personal questions, so this question really threw you off guard.

You spent a while coming up with an answer, pondering what they could mean by it. Why do they suddenly want to know now?

"I don't really know. I usually just spend my time at home and school." You didn't mean to sound so sad, but it definitely came off that way.

"So, you don't have any friends?" Well, that's straight to the point. You frown and blow a piece of strayhair out of your face.

"Other than you, no." You answer quickly. You couldn't help the intense sadness that washed over you at your answer. You're in your second year of high school and your only friend is a random person on the internet.

You've never been good at making friends, mostly because your bother doesn't approve of anyone who you show a slight interest in. You wonder if you ever met Justice in person, would they actually like you? Would Light like them? You can't think for too long before you hear yet another ping from your phone. You look down at it to see that Justice has responded.

"That's good."

——

You spent your time after school studying at the local cafe.

You didn't exactly care too much about your grades. Light was the high achiever in your household, so you and your younger sister didn't have to worry too much about grades. Light however, didn't like you slacking off. So, he made you a studying schedule in order for you to achieve academic excellence. Usually, he would be here with you, but lately he's been too busy with something he claimed was "none of your business."

You didn't mind though, since the cafe was pretty dead today. The only people here were you, the workers, and someone sitting in the far corner of the room. You couldn't get a good look at him because of the way he was sitting, but he was weird enough to cause you to sit far away from him.

Your studies, unsurprisingly, was uneventful. You spend most of your time focusing on math, since that's what you struggled with the most. Throughout you could hear your phone buzz, since you put it on silent while studying. You assumed it was Light reminding you to come home on time since you usually lost track of time when you were by yourself.

"Buzz, buzz." You give a silent groan, rolling your eyes in the process. You push your phone away, hoping too silent it a little.

"Buzz, buzz." It didn't stop. Frustrated, you snatch your phone from the table, staring intensely at the contact who's been messaging you.

It's Justice.

Your expression changes, frustration melting into confusion. You had 5 messages from them.

"Hello."

"(Y/N)."

"Please respond."

"I would like to talk."

"(Y/N). Respond."

You shake your head, shocked. Your fingers glided over the screen as you hurriedly typed a response.

"Sorry, Justice. I was studying."

"Please notify me beforehand next time."

'Why does it matter?' You thought. They've never been this overbearing before. Like they were reading your mind, you received another message instantly.

"I'm sorry for my behavior. I was worried." You couldn't help but feel warm, nobody other than your mother really worries for you.

"Why though?" You prod.

They took a while to answer and while you were waiting, you heard the strange man order another cake. You swear it's their tenth.

A few seconds after the strange man's cake comes, you get a notification.

"There's been a rise in deaths regarding the Kira case. I wouldn't want you to be one of them."

"Awww, you worry about me?" You jokingly ask. It wasn't even a second before they relied.

"Of course. You're my only friend after all."

——

You didn't exactly hate Misa; you just couldn't keep up with her.

Since you were closer in age with her, she tended to hang out with you often, claiming she wanted to learn more about Light's favorite sibling. You don't know what Light's been telling her, but your definitely not his favorite.

Once a week, you would meet up Misa at the cafe, the same cafe you study at. You confided in Justice that you really didn't want to hang out with your brother's girlfriend, being careful not to break your rule of mentioning anything too personal, like her name. They didn't give any great advice, just telling you to not go, which obviously wasn't an option.

"Soooooo...." Misa's drawled with a sing song tone. "You've been looking at your phone all day. You got a sweetheart."

You quickly look up from your phone, shutting it off the process. You shake your head, becoming shy by her giggles.

"Don't be shy, I won't tell light." She teases, playing with the cake on her plate. She smiles at you sweetly. "Come on, you can tell me."

You look away, embarrassed. "They're just a friend." Misa squealed at your answer, so excited she stretched over the table and grasped your hands.

"They're just a friend right now!" She pointed out, ignoring your discomfort. "How did you meet? Do you go to the same school? When can I meet them? Oh! Maybe we can go on a double date like in those romantic movies."

"Misa calm down, I promise you they're just a friend." Her mood shifted for excitement to disappointment in a flash. Pouting, she slumps back in her seat.

"Fine, but if it becomes anything more you promise to tell me?"

"I promise."

——

"Tell me more about your family, Yagami-kun."

"Why do you ask?" L doesn't move his eyes from the screens in front of him. But he can feel Yagami's gaze on him. It's hard and accusing, and he knows exactly why. He's protective of his children, that much is clear.

He hears Yagami sigh quietly and feels his gaze move back to the screen, focusing on the one displaying his family. L moves thumb to his mouth, toying with his lip.

"I don't know what exactly to say." He starts. "They somehow manage to keep up with my schedule, that means something right." He gives a small laugh.

L doesn't laugh though. He's too busy glaring camera, specifically the one displaying the Yagami household. Everyone was there. Everyone of course, except you.

Soichiro Yagami shakes his head while rubbing his forehead in contempt. "They're out with friends, it's always once a week."

The hand which isn't currently near his mouth grips his knee. He continues to glare at the camera, only shifting to look at the people moving around the house.

"Where." He shoves a piece of chocolate in his mouth.

Yagami thinks for a while before answering. "I believe the cafe near our neighborhood."

That makes sense, you're usually there. But with who? L stays silent for a while, pondering this mystery "friend."

He doesn't like that word when applied to someone that isn't him. It makes him sick. He grimaces, shoving a piece of candy in his mouth in the hope it calms him down.

It doesn't.

L didn't have any strong feeling regarding you at first, just a way to get to your brother. He saw how lonely you were, and used it, hoping to get some information out of you.

But you were smart. Not like your brother, but definitely more that he expected. You never shared with him any strong opinions regarding anything, remaining neutral on every topic of discussion. It became frustrating after a while.

But it also became fun.

He didn't know when it started, but slowly he started talking to you longer and longer. Observing you longer and longer. And he noticed how...protective Light was of you. Light was like him, he cared for people in weird ways. While Light chose to take a stricter approach, L chose to go the opposite route, gaining your trust by exploiting your loneliness and promising that he'll always be there for you. And while at the beginning it was nothing more than a lie, it slowly became the truth.

He craved your attention, he wanted to be the only thing you cared about. He couldn't stand you talking to anyone, Light included. Which is why he was so pissed about you being around someone else.

"Ryuzaki, your phone is ringing" Yagami notified. L slowly retrieved his phone, gripping it between his pointer finger and thumb, a small smile grazed his face when he saw the recipient.

"What is it?" Yagami questioned as L pocketed the phone.

"My friend."

——

A/n: I can't decide if I love or hate this.

#yandere x reader #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere death note #death note x reader #yandere light yagami #yandere l lawliet #light yagami #l lawiet #light yagami x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note fanfiction #yandere death note x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

[xxsabitoxx]

Satoru's Discovery (Pale Blue)

Read Pale Blue Part 1 HERE

~This is just a fun little glimpse back into the lives of 1st-year students Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Reader. This is told from Satoru's perspective but still written in 2nd person format.

Warnings: Underage smoking, everyone in this implied to be 15, aka they are in their first year at jujutsu tech so there is obviously no explicit content.

Drip divider is from the wonderful @benkeibear

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

October 2004 

He’s not focusing on anything but you, glasses sliding down his nose just a bit as he observes you eat. You’re talking so animatedly to Shoko, chopsticks dangling hazardously between your fingers as you use your hands to talk. You’ve always been a bit more hyper, especially when you’re eating a good meal. Satoru has only known you since April but he’s got some of your mannerisms down pat. Beside you, Suguru has his fist pressed to his cheek, elbow on the table and food forgotten as he watches you intently. There is a gentle smile on his face, perhaps this was the first time Satoru had noticed that level of focus in Suguru when it came to you. 

Though, Shoko would later claim it’s been obvious from the start. 

“You claim to have good eyes, yet you seem to miss the most obvious things, Gojo.” 

“And then… oh, Gojo? You okay?” he hadn’t realized it, but his glasses had slipped off of his face all together and clattered to the table amidst his daydream. Now, he could feel warmth flooding his face as he scrambled to grab them, trying to ignore three sets of eyes boring into him. “Y-yeah I’m fine I was just so engulfed in your story that I..uh… I…” he couldn’t find the words to save himself, mildly thankful when you and Shoko had begun to laugh. Quickly, Satoru’s eyes had shot up to meet Suguru’s, the other man staring at him with a quirked brow. To say the two boys had clicked right away would be a false statement. It wasn’t until after their first mission that the two became close. At first, Suguru couldn’t even stand him. 

Now, they were stuck together like glue, where one went, so did the other. Maybe that’s why it was so jarring to see Suguru looking at him like that, he hadn’t looked at him like that since their first mission together. It was a look of… “Jealousy? Why would I be jealous?” It had been three days since that incident at dinner and now the two were sitting on a park bench while you and Shoko were in the convenience store. Satoru shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “You were just looking at me funny dude, it was weird.” Satoru couldn’t stand the awkwardness, eyes averting to the opposite direction despite his sunglasses covering his eyes. 

“Well, if I was looking at you funny, I apologize.” Suguru shrugged it all off, head turning the moment you and Shoko emerged from the small store. “Geto, Gojo!” You called, bouncing happily towards them with a lollipop pressed into your cheek. “These are for you!” You smiled as you handed Satoru a matching lollipop and Suguru a bag of chips. “I know you don’t like sweet things, so I figured you might like these.” Behind you, Shoko was lighting up a cigarette. “Thank you!” Satoru chimed happily, plucking the blue pop from your hand and unwrapping it excitedly. “Thanks.” Suguru responded as well, sharing a smile with you before tilting his head and asking Shoko for a cigarette from her stash. That feeling was creeping up Satoru’s spine again, the feeling that he was missing something but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

He watched from his spot on the bench, observing the way you laughed as Shoko begrudgingly handed Suguru one of her cigs and a lighter. He pressed the lollipop to his tongue, smiling along when it felt right but he truly wasn’t paying attention. Instead, Satoru had focused on the way you and Suguru interacted with each other. He observed a little more diligently than before, picking up on the small interactions  and quick glances, the smiles you both shared when you must have figured neither him or Shoko were looking. “You coming?” He jumped a bit, noticing Suguru was standing and looking at him with an amused smirk. “Hu-oh uh yeah…” Satoru stammered, cheeks burning again as he was caught mid-daydream. 

“You must be staying up late, Gojo. You’ve been pretty spaced out the last few days.” He fell into step beside you, choking out a laugh as he tried to play things off. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty invested in some of my studies.” which also wasn’t technically a lie. He had been reading and researching various physics formulas and equations and all the boring but technical stuff that would help him better understand his curse technique. “I always forget you’re actually pretty studious.” You chuckle, hand reaching out to push him playfully. Usually Satoru was on guard, not stumbling when you pushed him. Today, however, he found himself falling into Suguru’s side. 

“Woah there, go easy on him.” 

You had a grin on your face as you spoke, head turning upwards a bit to make eye contact with Suguru. The boy was smiling back at you, eyes shining as he spoke. “Shall we tell them? It’s really not a huge deal.” He laughed a bit as you slapped his shoulder. “Tell us what?” Shoko chimed, oblivious to the way Satoru’s world was starting to crack around him. “Well, Suguru and I…” and for a moment Satoru couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing in his ears. “No way! I fucking knew it!” Shoko had laughed, pulling her third cigarette from her lips to point at you. “You’re both terrible liars… I figured you two have been dating for like two months now.” 

Satoru’s hearing returned to him just in time to hear that, his stomach twisting in knots as his worst fears were met. You and Suguru had been dating for months now. That was the very answer he couldn’t grasp, only because it was the answer he didn’t want. “Satoru, you okay?” Your brows had knitted together in concern, once again he was met with three sets of eyes boring into his own. “I-uh-yeah I’m fine just… just surprised is all.” He recovered but it wasn’t as smooth as he wanted it to be, and once again he was met with an odd look from Suguru. 

But it passed, the brown eyes of his best friend had returned to you, looking at you like you were his entire universe. It made his stomach tighten even more, mouth so dry he was certain he would choke if he tried to speak again. “I’ll spare you all the mushy details, but yeah. We’ve been dating for what feels like forever now.” You laughed a bit, deciding it was best to just move on from Satoru’s clear shellshock in order to not make things awkward for him. Just like always, you could read the white-haired sorcerer better than he could read himself sometimes. 

Somewhere, deep down, you knew you were witnessing his heart breaking. 

But for his sake, you would try and ignore it. 

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #geto x reader #suguru x reader #gojo angst #geto angst #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #gojo headcanons #gojo imagine #geto imagines

[mayearies]

☆.

NORMAL GIRL

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

genre: angsty (a lil fluff) | warnings: insecure reader a/n: i gotta confess i just listened to the ctrl deluxe because i didnt know there was one but I LOVE JODIE AND MILES SMSM translations: amor, que paso / love, what happened . di lo que piensas / say what you think . tía / aunt . como si fuera ayer, hermosa / like it was yesterday, beautiful . mi corazon / my heart . mamá, déjame ayudarte / mama, let me help you

summary: miles assuring youre the one for him no matter what ♬ song: normal girl by sza

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

miles and you were just laying down and watching some television on the couch while tía rio went to the store. she said she wanted to teach you and miles how to make pasteles tonight. you honestly weren’t paying attention to whatever was being shown, instead you were thinking about yourself. you just wish you were more-

“-normal?”

the tv cut off your sentence with that word, snapping you back into the moment. he noticed your sudden jump and looked up as you as his thumb circled your stomach. “you okay?”

“hm? oh yeah- yeah i’m fine.”

your voice was really unconvincing, he rolled his eyes as he laid his head back down on your chest and turned his eyes toward the tv again. “amor, que paso? you look upset.”

“nothing, just thinking.” “you know you can tell me anythin’, right? di lo que piensas.”

you know that. but you wanted to keep this to yourself. but also knowing him, he would be able to get you to crack sooner or later. miles was really passionate about hearing what you’re thinking. he liked to hear you speak. he says that a lot.

“you know how i, y’know act really out of character?” “what’chu mean, ma?” “like when we first met—don’t i act completely different now that we’re dating?”

the circular motions on your stomach paused for a second as he looked up at you but the motions still continued as he stared at you. glancing at your lips from time to time. “i mean, i never really noticed.”

“never?” “no. you stay the same in my eyes. the same cute princess i’ve known. so i dont know what you mean when you say ‘out of character’.”

maybe he didn’t see you the way you saw you. you felt like you’ve changed since you met him. in some ways bad, in some ways good. but you still felt like you weren’t yourself. “you know the times i would be hyper and all that.”

“como si fuera ayer, hermosa.” “well.. do you think thats normal considering me?”

miles squinted his eyes at you as he shifted so you were sitting on his lap. “‘normal’? you’re not normal.”

“exactly what my point is, miles. and i feel like it’s a problem.” “what’s wrong with not being normal, love? you can’t define normal in a person.” “but i’m not-“

“no buts, mi corazon. i like all the moments we share. the silly ones, the serious ones, thats all a part of you. and i like that. y’know, mama might have not had the best perception of you when we first met but, i still loved you. the same i do now. you might have changed. i still love you the same. ♡”

he lightly pepper kissed you over your face. he always knew a sweet way to shut you up. you were his life, and he wouldn’t want you being insecure about yourself any time of day. even when we was asleep or away for prowler business.

miles didnt have any expectations when he wanted a girlfriend. you just had to like him back. and you did. thats all he asks for. nothing else. “you okay now?”

he liked the way you would instantly melt at the kisses from his chappled lips. it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. he kissed your nose before you laid your head on his chest. he stroked your scalp, too.

the sweet moment was inturrupted when the door lock was making noise, “i’m back!”

miles’ hands gestured for you to move so he could help with the groceries. a faint “mamá, déjame ayudarte.” coming from him as she thanked him. you were still a little froze in the moment to which you couldnt feel tears on your cheeks drying up.

“oh! good, she’s still here-“

once rio turned her attention to you, she held a look of slight worry. which then shifted to an eyebrow raise at her son as he carried the bags.

“what did you do?” “nothing, mama! i swear. we just.. had a little moment while you were out.”

she looked back and forth between you two until her mouth made an ‘o’ shape, “ah, i see.”

“…not-“ “yes, i know ‘not like that’!”

©hiimayee

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales earth 42 #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles angst

[festivalsofmargot]

Pretty Thoughts {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final mission. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~2700

Warnings: Kissing, Teen Angst

Author’s Note: This is an (un)official Part 2 to Pining in Potions Class. I like writing one shots that could go together if you’d like, but you definitely don’t need to read any other stories to know what’s going on. I love the idea of a clingy Sebastian. Teens finding their first love can feel amazing but they also don’t know how to act. All they know is they want to be with that person at all times.

Songs (if interested):

Kill the Director - The Wombats

Whatever You Like - Single Version - Anya Marina Cover

Wallpaper - Matt Watson

How Long - TALK

You had found Sebastian around you a lot more lately, not that you minded. You enjoyed it, actually. But at the same time, it kept you on edge. Though you hadn’t known the Slytherin for long, this behavior seemed very out of the ordinary for him. When you were first getting to know him, he would be brief and to the point with you, then he was off. He was always prioritizing practicing new spells in the undercroft or going over every book he could get his hands on from the restricted section. 

At first, you thought maybe he had a falling out with Ominis, but then you saw them walking into the dining hall seemingly fine with each other. And then, you made yourself paranoid it had something to do with Anne’s health. But to your relief, he updated you on something funny she wrote in her latest letter to him.

Your early conversations mainly consisted of discussing the things he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book, but that was only a small portion of the time these days. More often than not, the two of you weren’t saying anything at all. He was just there with you. Whether it be studying, laying in the grass and basking in the sun, or sitting with you at breakfast going over some last minute homework. 

He was getting dangerously close to you lately too. He might not have thought anything of it. But you on the other hand? Your mind went reeling. Every time you were together, he would do something simple that made your stomach dance with butterflies. He’d brush your fingers with his, lay his head on your lap while you laid in the grass, and touch his shoulder against yours whenever you sat together in the dining hall.

It was your final class of the day, and you were barely paying attention, your mind thinking back on those light touches you and Sebastian shared. Looking up from your notes to sneak a glance at him, you found he was already staring back at you. The both of you quickly averted your eyes.

With Professor Hecat’s dismissal, all the students made their way out of the classroom. Sebastian caught up to your side.

“Have to cancel our library session. I need to meet with Ominis. Can I still try to see you later?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes, as if he needed you to confirm he could, in fact, see you later.

“O-Of course, Sebastian. I’ll probably be in the library for the rest of the night if you need me.”

He gave you a small smile and nod of his head. He took a few steps backwards to leave, keeping his eyes on you a moment longer, then he turned and went on his way.

- 

Rubbing at your eyes, you were relieved to be nearly done with all of your homework. It was the weekend now, you didn’t need to worry about finishing it all that night, but Sebastian hadn’t come to see you yet. So you stayed a bit longer than anticipated. It was getting late and everyone was gone except for you and Madam Scribner at her desk at the library entrance. 

You’d feel bad if Sebastian showed up and you weren’t there to at least tell him you were done and heading to bed. But if you were too tired, you were too tired. Sebastian wouldn’t be crushed if he turned up and you were gone... right?

You shook the thought from your head and rubbed at your blushing cheeks with the back of your hand. Sebastian doesn’t feel that way about you, he needs to focus on helping his sister. If he wants anything more, he’ll tell you. But then you began thinking about all his small touches again, pulling yourself back into the fantasy.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you knew you needed a distraction. You decided to get up from your table and explore the shelves for another book. Nothing education related, there had to be something in this humungous library that was just meant for enjoyment. Some fictional story to take your mind off of everything.

Aha! You believed you found just the book. You couldn’t quite tell from the cover, but the title was “My Beloved”. That sounded like a romance novel, right? Plucking the book from the shelf and running your hands across its bindings, you made your way back to your table. Not wanting to sit thanks to the lingering nerves, you opened up the book to a random page and read it over to see if your prediction on the content was correct.

You found it was a romance that took place in a small village. Before you knew it, you were engrossed in the story, picturing yourself and Sebastian as the main characters who were in love. You slowly placed both of your hands on the table, leaning on them as you kept reading, forgetting you could sit back down. It’d really come to this, you were so head over heels for him you were picturing the two of you in a romance novel. A dreamy sigh escaped your lips.

“What are you reading?” Sebastian asked, coming up to your side. Your attention snapped to him. He chuckled at your startled expression and very red complexion. “Uh oh, catch you reading something interesting, did I?” 

"Um...”, You started, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind was still recovering from the romantic scenarios you were just picturing the two of you in. 

Shaking your head and avoiding his gaze, Sebastian took this to mean you were upset with him. His heart sank. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Ominis and I decided to try a new spell and it took us forever to figure out. I was so focused on getting it right, I lost track of time. You’re not leaving soon, are you?”

You gave a small wave of your hand, dismissing his apology. “It’s alright, Sebastian. I got caught up here and... well, lost track of time myself.” You slid the book away from him, slowly closing it, hoping you didn’t look suspicious.

But, of course, Sebastian thought you looked suspicious. He raised a questioning brow at you and glanced at the book.

“What?” You asked innocently, turning away from him and looking down at the romance novel, firing off ideas in your head of how you’d put it away without him figuring out what it was.

“That book you got there. Why are you acting so secretive? Did I catch you reading something interesting after all?” Sebastian got closer, leaning one hand on the table next to the book and peering at it over your shoulder. His chest pressing up against your back. There he went again, giving you the slightest touch and driving you mad. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, intoxicating you. In that moment, you were tempted to yank him close and bury your face in his neck.

He turned his head to look at you for an answer, but you couldn’t get yourself to look back. He was so close, his lips were so close. You could make out his freckles out of the corner of your eye, feel his breath against your skin. Did he know what kind of effect he had on you? Was he teasing you? Your lips were moving to speak but no words would come out.

He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder, prodding you to answer him. “Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

And it wasn’t that bad, at most he would tease you for reading a romance novel. What was holding you back at this point was how nervous Sebastian was making you. As if you weren’t tense enough, he took it a step further and placed both of his hands on either side of you on the table, trapping you in. He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking another peek at the book.

“I never realized how much taller I am than you.” He chuckled, chest humming against your back. Keeping you in place, his callused hands grabbed yours to remove them from covering the title of the book. He held your hands in his while he read it over, then he gave a quiet, amused hum.

You turned in his arms and he lifted his head off your shoulder to meet your gaze. He smiled at you, but it faded when he saw your face. 

“What’s wrong?”

Finally facing him, even with how close he was, your desire took over your reason. And, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to be selfish. “You make me nervous, Sebastian.” You told him in a low tone.

He didn’t think you looked nervous at all. Something was written on your features but he certainly wouldn’t call it ‘nervous’. Your eyes were dark and you licked at your lips. It was brief but it caught his eye, seeing a quick glimpse of your tongue made his head race with all sorts of thoughts.

You too glanced at his lips, not caring if it was obvious what was on your mind.

Seeing your eyes shamelessly stare at his mouth, he froze. He was afraid if he made one wrong move, you’d run. He had wanted to kiss you for a while now, and right then it looked like you wanted to kiss him too. 

Then you did, and his heart went rapid. He had been convinced you could feel it when your hands moved up along his chest until one snaked around his shoulders and the other rested on his neck. His hands left their place on the table to grab your waist, pulling you closer, holding you in place. His warmth enveloped you.

You pulled away to kiss at Sebastian’s neck and his knees went weak. You kissed around the area you pictured he sprayed his cologne. You took an inhale and breathed out, “I always loved this scent on you.” You kissed at the area one more time, sending a pleasant tickling sensation up the back of his neck. His fingers dug deeper into your waist.

You go back to kissing his lips, which were softer than you had imagined. The way he earnestly moved his mouth against yours ignited sparks in your chest. You had wanted him so badly, and you finally had him there in your arms, on the tip of your tongue, for the taking. One of your hands moved to his hair and you reveled in the feeling of his locks between your fingers. 

But the abrupt sound of heels walking along a marble floor slowed your kiss to a halt. Madam Scribner. The two of you were so swept up in the moment you completely forgot other people existed (faculty that Sebastian does not have a good reputation with included).

The two of you left each other’s embrace just as Scribner came into view. Sebastian, hair slightly askew, gave a cough and acted like he was looking over some important papers which were actually your homework pages for a class he didn’t have. All the while, you had managed to open up the romance novel, nodding your head as if you were learning some new herbology methods.

Madam Scribner eyed the two of you while she put away a few books. “Getting late, best finish up before curfew.” And then she was gone, returning to her desk.

You and Sebastian looked at each other, cheeks flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. You bit at your lip and he rubbed the back of his neck. Clearing your throat, you started gathering up your homework and books.

Sebastian watched with an ache to pull you back in and keep kissing you senseless.

“I-I’m sorry I did that. That was selfish of me.” You stammered, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked, returning to your side, thinking through anything he could have done to make you feel this way. You had helped him through so much, if anything he thought he was the selfish one. You came in as a new fifth year with seemingly endless catching up to do and you had to learn how to wield ancient magic on top of that. Yet, he was unabashed in asking for your help countless times, anything to steal you away for himself.

“Well I-I know how busy you are with your research for Anne and I’d hate to be the one who slowed you down just because I-.” You went quiet, unable to finish the sentence, fingers fumbling to organize the papers in your hands.

“Just because you... what?” He urged on.

“Merlin, Sebastian. Do I need to spell it out for you?” You exhaled, leaving to go put away the books you borrowed, him following close in pursuit.

“Please do.”

“As I said,” You sighed. “You make me... nervous.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

Putting the last of the books away, you turned to face him again. “Good, I suppose.” You confessed, barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

He tried to bite back the giddy smile forming on his lips. “I make you nervous in a good way.” He repeated back, almost sounding proud.

You nodded your head, looking down at your twiddling thumbs, listening out if he would say how he felt about you.

Sebastian glanced over to Madam Scribner, who made it not so subtle she was keeping an eye on the two of you. “We should start heading to our rooms now, I suppose. Curfew and all.”

Your heart dropped, he didn’t say a thing about reciprocating your feelings. Not even a simple “I feel the same.” He must have only been swept up in the moment, enjoying the attention. Perhaps teenage hormones could make kissing enticing no matter who you were with? Embarrassment filled your every limb and you wanted to run and hide. You gathered your things to go.

“Um, yes. You’re right. We should be going.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“No, that’s alright. At this point, I’m asleep on my feet and you must be exhausted too. I’ll just floo and go straight to bed.”

Your rejection took him aback. “Oh. Well, alright then. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Maybe. I’ve got some assignments outside of the castle, might not have time.”

“Well, let me come along to help.” He offered eagerly.

“Don’t worry yourself, just send me an owl if something comes up for Anne. Sleep well, Sebastian.” 

Before he could say anything more, you sped off to the library floo, and then you were gone. He was baffled at your sudden shift, everything was going so well. The two of you kissed and you had confirmed you felt the same as he did. He couldn’t believe he could make someone like you nervous. Hearing you say how you felt about him made him so happy he could burst. But then you were rushing to leave, rejecting his offer to help again. He didn’t think he said anything wrong, he barely said anything at all. Yet off you went, like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

He groaned in frustration as he made his way to his room. He had managed to kiss you and he still felt as distant as ever from you. He had never had the courage to outright tell you how he felt, so he would constantly toe the line with his touches. The brushing fingers, laying his head on your lap, sitting as close as he could to you in the dining hall, and now a kiss, all of which you seemed to welcome.

Sebastian laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, going back and forth in his head what your actions tonight meant. You had waited in the library for him all that time, you initiated the kiss, said you liked - no - loved his cologne, told him he made you nervous in a good way, and then you wanted nothing more to do with him. He replayed the whole night and he couldn’t pin down where he went wrong. 

He’d have to find you first thing in the morning, before you could leave.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow angst

[rainbow-nerdss]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Enjoy this hit from the bucktommy pit I've fallen into over the past few days! 💙💙

“Eddie gave me a shovel talk, you know?” Tommy says, next time they get together. They're at Buck's again, and Buck is cooking for them. He drops the spatula at Tommy's announcement, spinning to look at him. “He what? Jesus, I am so sorry, he shouldn't have—” “It's fine,” Tommy assures him. “It was cute. He cares about you.” Buck snorts. “Sure. He hasn't scared you off, at least?” "Nah, trust me, I've sparred with the guy enough times to know I can take him if I need to.” Buck raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn't underestimate him. That guy knows how to fight dirty. Trust me. He's scrappy.” “Scrappy, huh?” Buck turns back to the pot and stirs it again. “Hey, come taste this?” He holds out a spoon. Tommy joins him at the stove, standing far closer than necessary, almost flush against Buck's back as he takes the spoon in his mouth, chews, and swallows. “Delicious,” he announces. “Is that Bobby's Chili?”  Buck nods. "Yup!" “Man, he was always so secretive about that!” Tommy complains. “How'd you talk him into sharing?” “Pays to be the favorite, I guess!” Buck preens. “So, what? Eddie suddenly decided to go all white knight protecting my virtue now I'm dating a guy?” He asks, steering the conversion back around. Tommy leans against the countertop beside Buck. “Nah, nothing like that. He just said that… He reminded me, forcibly, that you're a good guy, and I should probably refrain from hurting you, if I can help it.” Privately, a part of Buck glows at the knowledge that Eddie did that for him, even while he plans to rip him a new one for interfering. “I should clarify, Evan. I'm not… I’ve mentioned Victor, right? My ex?” Buck nods, turning to face Tommy in order to give this his full attention. “He sort of… did a number on me. Meeting you, doing… this, it's great. I'm just not…” “You're not ready for something serious,” Buck realizes. Tommy nods. “But, what we've been doing so far…?” “Is great! The dates, the, uh… other stuff, all amazing, but—” “You just don't want anything more serious than that.” “Exactly. If that's a deal-breaker, I can—” “No!” Buck rushes, putting a hand on Tommy's chest. “I mean, this is good for me too. Takes some of the pressure off, actually.” Tommy visibly relaxes, and Buck takes a moment to turn down the heat on the stove, leaning further into his space. “You said you were a relationship guy,” Tommy says, clearly wanting to make a hundred percent sure. Buck does him the courtesy of taking a moment to consider his answer. “I used to think I was. I thought my options were either ‘serious relationship’ or ‘meaningless sex that left me feeling like crap’.” He steps closer, close enough that he can feel Tommy's breath ghost across his skin. “But lately I've been discovering the joys of things being… somewhere on a spectrum. Keeping things fluid.” “Yeah?” Tommy asks, moving even closer. They might as well be kissing now, but they aren't quite, just a hair between them. “Yeah,” Buck repeats. “Though,” he adds. “For the sake of clarity. When you say other stuff, is that referring to the flying lessons you still owe me, or—” Buck pulls away just a fraction, just enough to allow Tommy the opportunity to reach out and keep him there, pulling him back into a dizzying kiss.

Tags:

I was tagged by @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon and @bidisasterbuckdiaz

And tagging:

@theotherbuckley @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @neverevan @loserdiaz @goforkinard @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @devirnis @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflowerdiaiz @lover-of-mine @liabegins @lovelettertothewise @slowlyfoggydestiny @buddieboos @shitouttabuck @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @nmcggg @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @eightpackdiaz @gigi-gigi @bisexualbuckleys @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @arachanae

#my fic #911 fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #bucktommy #this fic will eventually be buddie but i'm having too much fun laying the groundwork #just vibe with me here

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Fluff

Summary: Ghost doesn’t have to work about a thing knowing you’re all his.

A/N: First time writing for someone who isn’t Miguel lmao!

Word Count: 802 (Barely Edited)

Cocky!Ghost who wasn’t as cocky when you started dating. He was unsure how someone like him, bloodstained and rough, could manage to find the affections of someone so sweet and pure. He was highly insecure, scared that any minor misstep could cause you to slip through his fingers. But after a few months of constant reassurance, Ghost grew more secure in your feelings for him. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves to show you off. He walks with you, chest puffed out, knowing how lucky he is to have a fine thing like you paying attention to him and him only. Any compliment made towards you, let it be about your personality, looks, or smarts, is a compliment made towards him too. It just makes him that much more prideful. 

Cocky!Ghost who likes to be one of the last people to walk into base after returning from a mission. Not because he doesn’t want to see you as soon as possible, but because he absolutely loves the looks his comrades and fellow soldiers have. He absolutely loves how their faces light up with hopeful eyes as you hug them and praise them on a “job well done” or a “I’m happy you made it back alright”. He lets them bask in the fantasy that you’re theirs and they’re the ones you’ve been worried sick about while they were away. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves how that hope and fantasy is instantly shattered when you run up to him, throwing your arms around his neck with more force and joy than when you hugged all the other soldiers. Loves how they shuffle out of the room when you gush over him, worrying about injuries he might have sustained while away. Loves how you cling onto him in front of the other soldiers who wished they were standing in Simon’s place. 

Cocky!Ghost who knows how some of the other recruits think about you. Knows about their crushes on you and their longing gazes that are always fixated on you. Knows because that’s exactly how he used to be, how he still is. And he definitely knows that the muffled noises coming from their rooms at night are because they’re thinking about you in the dirtiest of ways. 

Cocky!Ghost who lets them because the next night he has you under him, keeping them up with the pretty sounds you make. Makes sure they hear you crying out his name, not theirs. Loves the jealous bangs on the wall of those recruits telling the both of you to keep it down because they can’t stand the fact it’s him making you feel good and not them. Ghost who is more than happy to go to Price’s office in the morning to get lectured about all the noise complaints. 

Cocky!Ghost who stares them down in the shared room at base as they walk past. Watching as they look at you sitting besides him, marks littering your neck since you have nothing to cover them with. Loves how their jaws clench and jealousy swarms in their eyes. Loves how when their eyes move to Ghost, they instantly look away with defeat. Loves how they walk away grumbling insults under their breaths about their Lieutenant. Loves how easily it is to remind others how you’re his.

Cocky!Ghost who loves coming back to base after leave with gifts you had for him. Loves how Price doesn’t complain much at him smuggling them onto base. Loves how the recruits look at the newest mug you got for him for his regular cup of tea with longing. Loves the pictures he has sitting in dirty frames in his barrack, all of which have the two of you together with a wide smile on your face. Loves the slight thud against his duffel bag from the key-chain you got him. Loves the folded piece of paper he keeps in his uniform pocket with your handwriting on it, only held together with tape. Loves reading over the words when he’s bored or on the helicopter. Loves how he makes it obvious all these things are from you and having the squad or other recruits comment on how lucky he is. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves announcing during leave how he has to get home to you. Loves how easily the words: “Sorry, boys. Gotta get home to the lovie. Can’t keep ‘em waiting, can I lads?” falls from his lips when the squad asks if he’d like to join them at a local pub. Loves walking through that door after weeks or months of being away to see you sitting around waiting for him with a nice bath and hot meal. Loves, more than anything, when you kiss him and whisper into his ear, “Welcome home, Si. I’ve been waiting for you.”

This is my newest fixation guys, I’m so sorry!!

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #ghost smut #ghost simon riley #cod headcanons #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley headcanons

[rubatosisr]

ꪒꪒ synopsis. cuddling w the main four — how they cuddle !

disclaimers. pure fluff, brief mention reader being referred to as “doll”,

notes. motivation is backk : ]

eric cartman.

really comfy cuddler !

hes pretty warm, and when cuddling he clings onto you like a stuffed animal, though his grip on you is pretty light, enough to move around and or leave.

whenever you ask he pretends like he hates it, and its suchhh a big inconvenience to him, but he really likes laying with you, gives him a sense of comfort that you’ll never leave him.

eventually he gets used to the occasional cuddles, ends up actually admitting he likes it, if anything he expects it now.

everytime you sleep over or vice versa you will almost always wake up in his arms, whether you were sleeping on the other side of the bed, or fell asleep on the couch.

actually mutters out “love you”s beside you when cuddling, he becomes a lot more mushy, in his words when he cuddles.

after a short cudding nap, he kicks you out of his bed.

kyle broflovski.

lovesloves cuddling with you, hes the first one who initiated it, and he made sure everything was perfect.

hes usually pretty cold, so he relies on blankets or your warmth to keep himself warm.

lets you play with his hair while you fall asleep, it also helps him fall asleep, the feeling of your hands running through his hair just makes him feel comforted.

holds your hands the entire time, hes very physical during cuddles, his thumb is rubbing against your knuckles, hes pressing kisses against your neck, all of the above.

super lovey dovey when it comes to you, hes just happy to lay with you and feel your body against his own.

after those naps he usually just lays and stares at you for a bit with an adoring smile, before stopping because he felt like a weirdo for that.

nowadays, if hes in public with you and wants to cuddle, he just keeps you with an arm around and leans his head against you. If anything hes either romantic or a bit nonchalant about it.

kenny mccormick.

he wears a parka a majority of the time, so expect to be met with a warm embrace everytime you two cuddle, as well as the smell of weed and cologne mixed.

teases you the first time because to him he just loves to hold you im his arms while your flushed.

“You must’ve been dreaming of this moment, huh? Can’t blame ya.”

but truthfully, hes the one who’s been dreaming of this moment, and besides all the teasing, hes really gentle whilst cuddling you, loves just to lay there in silence with you.

carries you into the bed when you cuddle, and carries you out of the bed, he might be lean but he’s grown to be a bit buff.

says your his doll, especially says that when he carries you.

gives the best hugs and cuddles. :)

stan marsh.

most definitely has a playlist of songs while you cuddle, just thinks it makes the thing 10x better in his opinion. you two share the playlist so you both just add whatever music you think would be good.

its not intentional cuddling either, you two are usually on your phones a majority of the time, and then fall asleep.

but that does not mean hes not paying attention, he feels your presence is enough, but if you wanna talk or just nap he’s totally fine with that !

he likes to be held, gives him a big sense of comfort, especially since its you, but also doesn’t mind holding you. Hes kind of a nonchalant guy, so as long as its comfortable for both parties, he doesn’t care.

has a big bedd

tons of blankets too, not sure why—he doesn’t even use all of them, but he hides them in his closet when you come over so he can have an excuse for you to lay in his blanket with him.

a bad habit of his though is hogging the blanket, you could be sleeping and suddenly feel the blanket being snatched, he also drools, but thats not as often.

#jujuupdated. ഒ #south park x reader #south park #x reader #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman headcanons #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mcormick headcanons #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh headcanons

[waldau]

dust — jeon wonwoo | 919 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

stream dust till it creates a black hole in your heart! 10/10 recommended!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

wonwoo comes home from a long but productive day in the studio only to find you lying on the bed of your shared bedroom with your laptop to your side and his sweatshirt in your hands.

you're curled up on yourself and facing him, but you haven't registered his presence yet.

his first instinct is to defend himself — he hasn't done anything wrong. that he's aware of. your house was not a mess when he left this morning. he woke up at the same time as you, and because you were going to be late for work, he managed to help fold your bedsheet, prepare breakfast while you showered and keep your stuff ready so all you had to do was grab them and dart out of the door.

he'd called you in the afternoon to check in on you after the hectic morning you'd had, and you'd sounded fine. tired, but fine. your presentation had been due but you seemed confident enough that it would go well.

did it not go well?

he takes a step forward and calls out your name. he just wants to hold you in his arms and know that you're okay, even if you might not want to tell him what's wrong.

you look at him and let out a sad noise. he can't take it anymore.

"can i sit next to you?" he asks, only taking his place next to you when you nod. "hey," he says, resting a hand on your back.

"hey," you say, but your voice breaks and it sounds like you've just pronounced the eighth letter of the alphabet. wonwoo swallows a smile and rubs his hand up and down your back.

"did me being here in spirit help?" he asks, pointing to the sweatshirt in your hand. you look at the piece of clothing in your hand and tighten your grip on it.

"please don't...break up with me?"

wonwoo frowns. that's not what he expected you to reply with. he tries to rack his brain for reasons why he'd ever do that.

"did you cheat on me?"

his question shocks you enough to get you to sit up straight, looking at him. "how could you think i'd ever—"

"because that's the only reason i'd break up with you."

you blink. "oh," you say, "so it's fine if i...i don't know, finish the last of the cookies we saved?"

he gives you his most unimpressed stare, only because he knows it always makes you smile. you push the sweatshirt away and reach out for him, and he's more than happy to be held by you.

"i don't want our relationship to be like dust," you say after a while.

wonwoo tries to decipher your metaphor, not that you speak often in them. he lifts his head to give you a questioning look when his mind comes up with nothing.

"i was listening to fml."

right. the album's just come out a couple of days ago, and you promised you'd listen to it when you got the time.

"is it so bad that you're down?" he asks.

you let out a watery laugh at that. it's enough to reassure him to lie down again.

"it's the opposite of that. it's pretty good, actually," you say, resting a hand in his hair, lazily tousling it.

wonwoo's train of thought has reached its final stop. "baby, you're going to have to help me out here."

you sigh, almost into his hair. "i heard dust."

"so what if you— oh."

"yeah, oh."

wonwoo's consumed by an intense surge of affection for you. he tries to pull himself into you even closer, only paying the slightest attention when you push at his shoulder and complain about not being able to breathe.

"baby," he says, feeling his voice take on a tone he knows you're going to chide him for, "you do know i had nothing to do with writing that song?"

he feels you nod.

"you also know i'm not the one who sang anything on that song?"

he can almost hear the gears turning in your head before you mumble a soft, "shut up, wonwoo." and then, "you're going to break your glasses if you hold me like that any longer."

"don't care." but he rolls away when you push his shoulder. "do you seriously think i'm going to break up with you some day?"

you shrug. "sometimes. bad days."

"why don't i ever hear about them?"

you sigh. "it's stupid. not worth your time."

wonwoo shakes his head. "you don't get to decide that, baby."

you look at him with a small smile on your face. "that's the third time you've called me that today."

"i'll say it again if you want me to."

when you say nothing, he rolls back next to you, mindful of your laptop. it's been a while since you've just hung out, doing absolutely nothing together.

"hi, handsome."

he closes his eyes at the compliment. "i was thinking."

"oh, no."

he pinches your side gently. "it's raining outside."

"is it?"

"do you want to go out?"

"in...the rain?"

"i was thinking we could film a video to this song. so you don't feel sad the next time you hear it."

your eyes widen with what he can only call love, before you wrap yourself around him tightly.

"i love you, wonwoo, i love you, i love—"

"i love you too, baby," he says, holding you closer to him. loving you is the easiest thing he's done.

#this song makes me so sad i like it ← wtf #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #wonwoo #fluff #waldau writes #🍃 — svt

[impactedfates]

hihi!! platonic jing yuan and yanqing with yanqing’s younger twin?

★ A/N: We love this found family dynamic adnifnogrn

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial (Found Family)

★ Format: HeadCannons + Mini Scenarios

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Not proof read, wanted to ramble in a way. I love the found family trope wkdnfrg // Reader is taller then Yanqing but younger // Single father JY // Reader is part of the alchemy commission (not stated much as I don't know much about it/can't remember) // I wrote this on my phone at like 3am

General Family HCs - Platonic! Jing Yuan + Yanqing + GN! Reader

Despite you and Yanqing being twins. Both him and Jing Yuan are still protective over you despite you only being younger by like a couple of seconds. You DO have freedman. They’re not that over protective. But do expect at least one of them to visit when you’re at work.

The difference in how you all treat your room honestly…Jing Yuans room is messy, sure his bed is made but documents and such are all over the place. Being a general means he can’t really have the time to care. Yanqing room (at least his side of the room - you two share) is also messy. Not as messy as Jing Yuans. Actually probably messier. There’s swords laying on the ground (safely) and clothes. Your side of the room is more cleaner. I feel like if you work at the alchemy commission you probably know it’s important to keep tidy.

Jing Yuan goes all out for your birthday with Yanqing. He’ll throw a party and get anything the two of you want. Even if they contrast horribly with each other. He will be making the two of you happy. Even if it means confusing anyone walking by if you decide to have it in a more public area.

You probably have been taught how to wield a sword. Both Jing Yuan and Yanqing know they’ll have to stop constantly checking in on you. So to ensure you’ll be able to protect yourself. You know how to wield a sword (or any weapon of your choosing)

I have a weird feeling you’re the best cook out of the trio. The other two do help though!…With like mixing and cutting. Jing Yuan at least knows how to cook simple, but if you want to feel fully fed and energised for the day. Perhaps you should take over?

Yanqing used to be taller. But then you grew taller. Honestly it’s funny to see how pouty he was when you first grew a few inches above his own height. He’s fine now though…just don’t assume he’s the younger twin.

Jing Yuan has a habit of patting your head. Yours and Yanqing. It’s his subtle way of saying “I’m proud of you” and he always is. He’s proud of the two of you and how far you’ve come. He’s proud to consider the two of you his children. And he’ll be proud of the two of you until he dies.

When you first joined the alchemy commission. I feel as though Yanqing wanted as many updates as he could about you. Jing Yuan trusted whoever was your mentor there but Yanqing was a bit worried. He will always protect his younger twin! Once he knows you’re doing well, he’ll start actually paying attention to HIS job.

If you say anyone bullied you for anything? Yanqing there to give them a piece of his mind (and if things got physical - maybe do some pay back) and Jing Yuans there to help and reassure you.

100% you all cuddled when you and Yanqing were much younger. Jing Yuan could not let his little babies alone. (He had to eventually, wasn’t happy)

Once you and Yanqing tried styling Jing Yuans hair and a family of birds flew out.

I feel like I said this before but just encase I haven’t - If you ever get a partner, they’re gonna have to get the approval of both of them. Jing Yuan may be easier to impress but Yanqing might be a bit harder

You honestly probably got to boast that your dad was the general at school. Whether or not you did is up to you.

Imagine a small you and a Yanqing struggling to hold up Jing Yuans weapon. You’re lifting up one side and Yanqings lifting up the other.

You also have a lion that you can snuggle up with :D Mini loves you, maybe you’re her favourite 👁👁

I absolutely hate working on my phone. But I didn’t have my laptop with me to do this sob. I’ll fix anything once I have it again if I find any mistakes

Last request will be started as soon as I come home from school! I’m hoping to have it posted by Sunday or Monday :))

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr imagines #Jing Yuan x You #Jing Yuan x Reader #Yanqing x You #Yanqing x Reader #Platonic HSR #HSR Platonic #Platonic Jing Yuan x Reader #Platonic Jing Yuan x You #Platonic Yanqing x You #Platonic Yanqing x Reader #🎭 masked fools

[blueduplicity]

Three's a crowd

Word count: 32k

It's not often you and all your best friends can hang out and have a movie night together, not while balancing everything else required to live the model adult life.

So you take advantage of the rare opportunity to make, potentially, a very dumb decision.

What harm could there be in taking three edibles at once? Your best friends are here to take care of you, there's nothing for you to worry about.

What could be so scary about the fact that not a single one of them is paying attention to the TV? (Except Bo, at least he's invested.) Or, the way that they can't seem to keep their hands off of you. You're rather open with your affection, but they've never been so touchy before, not like this. They've never had you sit in their lap while they run their hands over your body, they've never knelt between your legs with a crooked smile, never slid their hands beneath the waistband of your shorts.

What might be scary, though, is how they wait until they're absolutely sure your edibles have kicked in to drop the façade, when they know for sure you won't be able to remember a single thing they do to you.

What harm could there be, indeed.

(Dubcon-turned-consensual, orgy, dom/sub dynamics, drugs, fem!reader, double penetration (same hole,) anal m!receiving, roleplay, oral, hand jobs, overstimming, reader is put thru the ringer, hella aftercare, poly dynamics. )

“Are you sure that taking three isn’t going to be too much?” 

Akaashi’s voice is fairly dubious, heavy with suspicion as he’s eyeing you with an expression of blatant concern and doubt. 

He’s seated in an oversized armchair nestled against the window, just barely out of reach from your spot on the far right of your well-loved couch. Your legs are tossed over Bokuto’s lap, his warm hands rubbing absentmindedly at your calves while listening to your conversation. 

“It’s not gonna be that bad y’know, I took two before and felt fine.” You try to reassure him, twisting around in your spot so that you can actually see him while you talk. The look on his face, however, is far from promising. The intense furrow in his brow is enough to tell you that you’re not as convincing as you might want to be. 

After all, ‘fine’ actually meant that you were completely laid out and had to have Tsukishima take care of you while you were sprawled on his kitchen floor trying to explain to him why your arms were so tingly, so you can’t be too surprised that Akaashi doesn’t believe you. 

Kuroo snorts out a laugh from his side at the other end of the couch, his legs overlapping with yours. He throws a particularly cocky grin your way, eyes like dark whiskey glinting in the light from the TV. “You were definitely not fine. Tsukki called me that night, freaking out because he couldn’t figure out why you were telling him you had bees in your arms.” 

You snicker, but said blonde looks less than pleased, glaring at you from where he stands in the kitchen with his elbows leaned on the counter while he scrolls through his phone. “I’m seriously not taking care of you this time, not again.” He warns you, his scowl deepening when both you and Kuroo share a doubtful look. 

He says the same thing almost every time, that he’s going to leave you to fend for yourself, that you’re just going to have to ask someone else for help. He never follows through with it, always one of the first ones to get you whatever you need. Even if he complains about it. 

“If you say so!” You grin, trying to stifle it when Kuroo gently kicks your leg, barely able to hide a smirk of his own. Kei glowers , hunched over the counter with his phone held tight in both hands. His face is tinged pink, and even far away you can catch the hard swallow that bobs his throat, because he knows, and he knows that you know. 

He’ll always take care of you. 

You turn back towards Akaashi, stretching your arm out as far as you can in his direction and wiggling your fingers to catch his attention as though you didn’t already have it to begin with. His expression is decidedly unimpressed, leveling you with a look that you could almost assume is a glare, if you didn’t know better. Akaashi rarely gets angry , so you’ve picked up the horrid habit of pushing his buttons when you know he’s more likely to indulge you. 

You wave your hand around dramatically, making grabby motions with your fingers until he’s rolling his eyes and smiling, though he tries to hide it by biting the insides of his lips to keep them from curling. 

“I’ll be okay, ‘Kaashi.” It’s a flimsy assurance, your impulse control when under the influence is, to say frankly, utter shit. You’re constantly getting into shit you shouldn’t, constantly trying to do things that you shouldn’t, and you’re always trying to make weird, spur of the moment decisions. So, you don’t bother trying to promise him that you won’t do anything stupid. He'd just call you a liar anyway.

But you’re not alone, so at least when you’re making dumb decisions like this you aren’t by yourself in case something goes wrong. You’re with your closest friends, people who you know and trust to take care of you, you wouldn’t be doing this otherwise. 

Kuroo especially, even though he’ll never admit it outloud, he actually likes it when you get high around him. He’s seen firsthand during old college parties the way you would decline any weed or alcohol flat out, unwilling to let yourself be in that kind of vulnerable position without being near people you trusted. That you feel safe enough to do it around him says volumes, and so he tends to coddle you a little whenever you get high, though he refuses to acknowledge that he does so.

He’s usually the second one to sneak you snacks though, only rivaled by Bokuto in his efforts to spoil you when you get stupid. 

Bokuto, in contrast, has always been vocal about how much he loves it, loves the way you giggle at nothing and the way you always get a little clingier towards everyone. He’s never gotten high with you, but his energy is infectious, and the two of you feed into each other with horrible impulse purchases and loud peals of laughter well after everyone else has gone to sleep, to the detriment of the others. Your late night edibles have been the cause of many a midnight trip to the convenience store for snacks, trips that Bokuto is more than happy to accompany you on. 

No matter how much these edibles might fuck you up, you have your guys who will take care of you, so you aren’t worried in the slightest. 

Akaashi sighs, his stern expression faltering when he sees the easy smile on your face, your arm still stretched out towards him. The facade cracks a little, but you don’t find blatant concern hidden beneath the surface like you expect. 

He looks excited. For just a second, pupils blown wide against the navy expanse of his iris, a flush that simmers high on his cheekbones, fingers clenched tight on the arms of the chair as he sucks in a quick breath. 

Then it’s gone, he gives in and moves to take your hand, having to lean over the side of his chair just to reach you. His fingers are gentle as they wrap around yours, weathered from years of volleyball and keeping up with the other three on the off occasion when they can convince him to set for their practice. You squeeze once in an attempt at a comforting gesture, wanting to try to reassure him, but then his thumb glides over your knuckles in a ghost of a caress that feels strangely possessive. A shiver races up your spine and his grip tightens, if only briefly, and you suddenly feel much more aware of the other three pairs of eyes on you.  

You pull away, instinctive, hiding another shiver when his face sours at your retreat. Bo keeps you steady when you lean forward to snag the bottle of edibles from your coffee table, hands warm on your calves and firm enough to pull you back up when you begin to slide off the couch. 

You pop three gummies into your mouth, grimacing as the bitter, astringent taste coats your tongue. Even with a thin layer of sugar on the outside, it does nothing to disguise the flavor of THC. It tastes like you licked the floor of a recently sanitized hospital. 

“Gross.” You groan, sticking your tongue out as if that will help remove the awful flavor from your mouth. Kuroo snickers at you, gently bopping you with his leg again to get your attention. You nudge him back, playfully scowling at his sly grin, the way he tips his head back to peer at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“That bad?” He asks, like he does every time, grin stretching when you throw the small container at him. Bo catches it instead, pointedly ignoring the look of utter betrayal you send his way. 

“Awful, tastes like juice and sanitizer.” 

An arm stretches out from over your shoulder, a bottle of juice held loosely between slender fingers and dangled in front of your face. You let your head fall against the back of the couch to see Tsukishima curled over you, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. He frowns at you, clearly waiting for you to take the bottle so he can move, but you wait a little longer to drag it out. He’s pretty like this, with his eyes bright from the reflected light of the TV. 

When he sees you aren’t going to take it, he makes a low noise of frustration and drops the bottle in your lap. 

“Thank you, Kei.” You sing sweetly, uncapping the drink to take a small sip and pointedly ignoring his pissy huff, watching as he turns away to return to his place in the kitchen. 

You had tried to get him to come join you on the couch before, but with Bo and Kuroo sprawled into the small space beside you, there wasn’t enough room and he didn’t seem to want to relax anyway. It’s like he’s on edge, fingers tapping at the kitchen counter while he watches the TV with blank eyes, seeing but not really paying attention. 

You turn back to the show, settling against the arm of the couch and reaching out towards Bokuto, waiting with your hand upturned for him to take it. His fingers immediately lace between yours and tighten until your palms kiss, and the sweet smile he gives you is enough to make you feel molten and dewy, soft beneath the warmth of his affection. 

Part of you wants to reach for Akaashi again as well, the urge to touch him is almost a tangible thing that festers, but he’s too far away and looks comfortable in his spot, so you reign in the urge to pester him for his hand. It’s hard to shake, and the fingers of your free hand curl inwards to form a fist as a tangible way to quell the desire.

Kuroo bumps his foot into your leg, though, almost like he knows you’re at the stage of your budding high where you begin to want some form of physical contact. You bump him back, grinning when he smirks at you, Bo stuck in the middle as you begin trying to push each other’s legs off of his lap. He has the advantage, stronger, legs longer than yours, but he goes easy on you when you’re high. 

If you were sober, though, he’d be merciless. Kuroo hates losing. 

Nights like this are common, or as common as they can be when your friends are athletes, an editor, and a businessman, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is different tonight. Kuroo is messing with you as usual, Kei is being a grump like every other night, Akaashi toes the line between being a disgruntled parent and being just as mischievous as Kuroo, and Bo is your willing cuddle buddy as always. Nothing is different, but you can’t quite relax.  

You can’t figure out why. 

Maybe it’s the way none of them are actually watching TV, other than Bokuto. They’re stealing glances in your direction, sharing undecipherable looks with each other when they think you aren’t paying attention, touching you more than usual. You don’t mind the affection, but it feels a little off. Unease creeps up your throat, but Bo’s hand is steady against your calves, warm and reassuring as he’s always been, soft from the lotion he’d let you apply hours ago. 

If there was something wrong, you’re sure he wouldn’t be this calm or collected, he’s terrible at hiding when he’s upset and he never really tries to. You tighten your grip on his hand, a questioning squeeze, and he answers immediately. Reassuring, and then Kuroo reaches out to curl his fingers along the sensitive skin of your ankle, thumb smoothing over the arch to capture your attention. 

When he has it, he smiles, unlike the typical catlike smirks that curl at his lips, it’s inviting and indulgent. He squeezes your ankle once and shares a look with Bo, something hidden and secret passing between them, but your thoughts are turning syrupy and you’re finding it a little hard to remember what had you so stressed to begin with. 

They touch you slowly, warm hands sliding up and down your legs in rhythmic loops that have you melting into the couch, missing the way Akaashi watches with burning eyes as you let out a pleasured murmur and how he tenses up in his seat, missing how Kei nearly chokes on air at the sound and covers his mouth with one hand, brows knitted tightly together. 

You can’t feel the weight of their attention, but if you could it would surely be stifling. 

Each passing episode of your show begins to bleed into the next, a blur of colorful pixels and noise that slowly melds into a single cacophony against your senses, as if you’ve fully zoned out. Sometimes you startle out of it, muscles tensing up as you straighten, before relaxing when you remember where you are. 

Somewhere along the hour, you end up in Bokuto’s lap, his chest snug against your back and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. He’s warm, his chin tucked over your shoulder so he can still see the screen, humming happily when he squishes his cheek against yours.

You giggle and press your face against his in return, the two of you snickering together even though he doesn’t really know why you’re laughing, but he likes that you’re happy and that’s enough to have him join you. You sink into him slowly, the plush of his thighs much more inviting than your couch. He’s like one of those really big teddy bears, all soft and squishy when he’s not flexing. 

And with a newly freed space opened on the couch, you can turn your attention back towards Tsukishima to convince him to take the vacant spot. 

But he’s being difficult.

“Kei.” 

He’s still not answering you, eyes locked onto the screen of his phone, those pretty fingers tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on the cold countertop. 

You shift a little, turning so you can face the kitchen a little easier. “Kei!” 

He lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What?” 

“Come sit with me.” You demand once more, perhaps a little petulantly, waving one of your arms in indication of the empty space beside you and Bo. 

Kuroo has moved from your side to the floor, sitting between your legs, and he’s propped them up over his shoulders so he can rest his hands on your ankles. Bo’s legs are stretched wide around the width of him, which gives you ample room to stretch out in his lap and slump against his chest. Kuroo’s trembling a little, and you can hear the faint wheeze of his laughter, the sound high pitched and a touch manic because you’ve been bugging Tsukishima to join you on the couch for five minutes straight and he’s this close to losing it. 

“I don’t want to.” Said blonde declines, expression pinched in frustration with his eyes thinned nearly to slits, lips pressed tight together in a thin grimace. “I’m fine right here, pay attention to the TV.” 

You scowl. “I’ll pay attention when you come over here.” 

“I don’t want to.” He repeats, and Akaashi groans softly, dragging a hand down his face as if that will wipe away his exasperation. 

Kuroo tips his head, muffling his laughter against the skin of your knee, butterflies stirring low in your belly at the way his breath warms where his lips nearly touch. Bokuto is chuckling too, soft little puffs of breath that skim over your ear, and he’s languid beneath you, molten as opposed to being hardwired with energy like he usually is when you get like this. 

“Come sit.” You demand, and yet another circle is completed, this time Akaashi’s groan is louder, his gaze pointed and sharp and very intentionally avoided by you. 

When he sees that you’re ignoring him, he gets up to take your previous spot, sitting on your right and pressed into Bokuto’s side so he can reach for you. He cups your chin gently with slender fingers, turning you around to face him and forcing you to meet his intensely unamused expression. His hand is cold, unyielding when you try to twist out of his grip. 

You swallow, and his eyes dip to track the bob of your throat, his grip on your face tightening a little. Fingertips press into your cheeks, small divots he uses for leverage to pull you closer. 

“Leave Kei alone, love.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on your face and letting his hand fall to cup your jaw instead, his thumb sweeping wide arcs across your cheek. “You shouldn’t try to make him come if he doesn’t want to.” 

Kuroo snickers, which chains into Bo trying to stifle a laugh against your shoulder as well, the two of them struggling to keep from amping the other up and setting off an inevitable bout of hyena cackling. Your lips twitch, but you manage to contain your smile so Akaashi doesn’t glare at you like he is at them. 

“I miss him.” You say it softly, a secret that draws his focus back to you, your voice little more than a quiet rasp so that Kei can’t overhear. Akaashi melts, practically coos at the softness you’ve revealed . As much as he enjoys your snark, he likes your vulnerability more, when you’re honest rather than stubborn with him. 

He tips close to press the bridge of his nose against your cheek, pleased when you lean into him. “You could tell him that.” He drops his voice to a whisper as well, playing along. “Instead of trying to make him angry, you know annoying him isn’t going to get you anywhere.”  

Tsukishima is frowning now that he can’t hear your voices, leaning across the counter with his scowl morphing into more of a worried frown, phone flat on the countertop and forgotten. 

“I would rather die than admit I miss him to his face.” You tell him seriously, and that’s the last straw for Bokuto or Kuroo controlling their laughter. 

Akaashi bumps your forehead with his, a gentle chiding that makes you whine, but he’s unrepentant. 

“Try asking him nicely, I’m sure that would get you much farther than ordering him to sit here.” His fingertips glide down the arch of your throat, a pleased noise sealed tightly behind his lips when you tilt your head to give him better access. 

The air sizzles, pops with simmering tension that you’re, unfortunately, a little too far in the back of your head to really notice. 

“Feels nice.” You murmur, voice thick and slurred, unfamiliar on your tongue. 

“Does it?” He breathes, fingers twitching as they trace invisible lines over your collar bones, drifting lower as you crane your head back as if to invite him in for more. 

Something about it feels more intimate than you anticipated, like he’s branding you with his touch, possessive in how he curls closer to you as though trying to climb into Bokuto’s lap as well. The thought makes you giggle, cutting through some of the tension and allowing Akaashi to relax into you, resting his forehead against your shoulder to stifle a heavy exhale.

“Ohhh, is someone a little up in the clouds right now?” Kuroo tips his head back with a grin, something playful on his face that softens when you reach out to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. Your fingers linger against his cheek, and his eyes dip to half-closed, a sort of smolder that brims with unidentifiable heat. 

“Just a little.” You admit, a shiver crawling up your spine when Bo’s hands dip beneath the hem of your shorts, fingertips grazing bare skin. You feel raw, wildly sensitive as a pleasant buzz builds at the base of your neck. You shudder, full-bodied in his lap, and his hands press down as if to hold you in place, pulling you back into him with a noise that you feel in his chest more than hear. 

Before you can ask if you’ve hurt him, Tsukishima has finally gotten sick enough of not being part of your conversation that he’s decided to join you. Not at your side, like you wanted, but seated at the other end of the couch, as far from you as possible. You pull away from Akaashi’s gentle touch to scowl in his direction. 

“Kei!” 

He mirrors your scowl, though there’s a light dust of pink across his cheeks. “What? I came over here, what more do you want?” 

“I want you to come closer. ”

"No.” A steadfast refusal, and he’s already turning back towards the TV, completely prepared to ignore you.

You groan, kicking your limbs out as best you can with Kuroo’s hands on your legs and Bo’s arms tucked beneath yours. “Kei! ” 

Akaashi sighs, a hand on your thigh to reign you in, a subtle reminder that you reluctantly adhere to. 

You decide that it might be better to play nice, for now. You back off, repositioning yourself in Bo’s lap so you’re looking towards the TV, squirming a little when his hands squeeze your hips tight. You giggle, and then he rocks you back into him again, a breathless puff of air spilling against your ear that you think might be a laugh. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is sharp enough that you nearly jump, and Bo definitely does. He startles beneath you, hips twitching, and you gasp when, for a moment, he grinds you down hard on his lap, muffling a noise against your neck that sounds almost pained. 

But he settles after that, apparently properly scolded. He hugs you to him, face buried in the crook of your neck, warm and solid and you’re almost sure you could fall asleep just like this. Kuroo is trying not to laugh, you can feel the tremble of his shoulders beneath your legs, and your hand instinctively goes back to the top of his head, fingers ruffling his already messy hair and making him swat at you half-heartedly. 

It’s harder to focus on the show now. You hear the voices, the screech of metal on metal, and the blur of colors whips by leaving you dazed, staring blankly at the moving screen even though none of the information is sticking. Completely glossed over, you turn your attention inwards to the sensations around you instead, your favorite part after the incredibly deep sleep the high provides.

Kuroo’s hair is silken, soft, you bury both hands in it and begin massaging his scalp. He makes a startled noise that begins as a yelp but ends in a pleasured sigh, melting beneath your hands.

Bo removes his right arm from your waist and lifts it, coaxing Akaashi into coming closer with two pairs of puppy eyes tossed in for added effect. After a brief moment of hesitation, some unsaid emotion shining in his eyes, Akaashi dips close and leans into Bo’s chest, and by proxy rests his head against your shoulder. 

His hand moves to rest on your thigh overtop Bokuto’s, their fingers lacing together in a gesture that makes you smile, feeling warm and buzzy all over. 

Your patience is rewarded when Kei begins to move closer as well, shifting subtly at first, half an inch at a time, then scooting the rest of the way until he’s pressed into Bo’s side. Wordlessly, his left arm lifts, and then Kei joins you and Akaashi resting against the spiker’s chest. 

One of his hands finds yours, clammy, his fingers tight as they squeeze down on the spaces between yours. You rub your cheek against the top of his head, feeling the soft silk of his hair and humming contentedly even as he makes a low grunt of protest and tries to duck away from you. You follow, leaning far off to the left to chase him as he moves, and Bo has to hastily snap his arm back around your waist to stop you from falling over completely. 

When you let out a breathy, high-pitched giggle, grabbing for Kei to try and pull him back in, Akaashi reaches out to drag you upright by the shoulder. 

“Behave.” He reminds you, watching as your head tilts, lolling lazily to one side, your eyes a touch glassy and dazed. 

The buzz is louder now, droning on like you’ve stuffed the inside of your skull with cotton, and you feel it like a tangible weight settling over your body, static on the top layer of your skin. You begin to hum, softly to yourself, and Bo presses his cheek against yours with a small, affectionate murmur, once again tickling you with the light scruff of his stubble, pleased when it draws more laughter from you. 

Your fingers end up combing through Kuroo’s hair again, buried to the scalp and scratching until he’s leaning back into your touch with a groan that rumbles deep in his chest. His hands squeeze your calves tighter, head tilted back so he can look up at you with heavy eyes. His smile widens a tic when he sees the clearly drowsy expression you wear, like you’re not even paying attention to anything else but him.  

“Whatcha doin, pretty?” He drawls, low and slow and content. 

“Jus’ playin’.” You murmur, just as soft. “Your hair feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his eyes fall shut briefly, indulgence oozing from every pore. “Glad you think so.” 

It’s nice being like this, and you wish you could take a picture of him right now. Relaxed, lines of tension normally creasing his face are gone, a light smile that you’re not sure he realizes is there. You think if he were a cat, he’d be purring up a storm with the way he rolls his head against your hands to encourage you towards a specific spot. 

“Are you comfy?” You ask, voice a little breathy as Bo turns his face in towards your neck, his lips warm as they ghost over your racing pulse. It makes you squirm, writhing in his lap until his hands clamp down on your waist, squeezing once in what feels almost like a warning. 

“Sure am.” Kuroo’s eyes glint with mirth, deception like a honeyed glaze that you don’t have to try all that hard to see through. 

You frown, poking the back of his head with a low whine. “The floor isn’t comfy, Tetsurou, don’t lie.” 

He softens, chuckles, patting your thigh affirmingly and catching your hand to bring it to his lips. “Your lap is plenty comfy enough for me, don’t worry.” 

Ignoring him, you turn towards Tsukishima, who has been trying to act like he’s paying attention to the show and not listening to you talk. “Kei?” You call softly, leaning forward in Bo’s lap so you can try to catch his eye. 

He looks at you warily, shoulders hunched up towards his ears as if that will offer him some defense from whatever you’re about to say. “What?”

“Would you pass me that throw pillow, please?” 

He blinks at you, owlishly, head cocked to one side with something vaguely like confusion . “What?” He repeats, baffled.

You gesture towards Kuroo. “I wanna give him somethin’ to sit on, the floor hurts. Please?” 

Bo hums against your skin, a soft puff of laughter that skims across your shoulder. “You’re not usually this nice to Tsukki, what’s got you bein’ all sweet?”

His hands move further down, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. You squirm when he pushes them lower around your thighs, pushing against him and trying to blink away the thick haze blanketing you in cement. Slow, muddled, feeling as if you’re moving through water as you bat at his hands weakly.  

Kuroo lets out a soft croon as he turns, kneeling between your legs with a grin. The view of your knees propped up over his shoulders suddenly looks a lot less innocent. “How sweet of you, what a thoughtful girl you are.” He teases, warm, rough hands gliding up your thighs, pushing the material of your shorts higher up to meet where Bo is pushing them down. Their fingers lace together briefly, a look shared between them before Kuroo’s eyes are back on you. 

You gasp, jumping a little at the ticklish sensation of their fingertips ghosting over your skin, sending racing shivers and goosebumps all along your arms. Something hot pulses beneath you, then Bo groans softly in your ear and rocks his hips, jostling you slightly. Before you can question him, even Kei is coming closer, brow pinched but with a look of yearning in his eyes that’s completely foreign on his familiar face. 

“Guys?” Your voice is breathy, confused, and you try to blink away the fog only to realize it’s not your vision that’s muddled. Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and some distant part of you is strangely fearful of how intense this particular high feels. 

Akaashi sighs, soft and chastising, cupping your cheek and coaxing you to face him once more. “I tried to warn you.” He murmurs, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip and testing it’s give before leaning in to kiss you.

It feels natural, at first. Akaashi is one of your best friends, and you’re a rather affectionate person even platonically, so it doesn’t strike you as odd. He kisses you with an ease that belies the desperate way he clings to you, his other hand lifting to cup your jaw and pull you in just a little closer, a moan muffled against your lips when he licks into your mouth and covers your tongue with the taste of salted popcorn. 

Then you feel the heat of Kuroo’s breath on your legs, working his way up from your knees to the hem of your shorts where he and Bo still have them bunched up between their hands. His eyes burn when he looks up at you, taking in the way you try to pull away from Akaashi’s kiss, your face panicked but not quite fearful, still lagging a little far behind even as he maps out the plush of your thighs with his mouth, teeth nipping and dragging until it feels as though you’re going to bruise everywhere he touches. 

“Hold on, wait…” You whine when Akaashi pulls you back in, mouth slotted over yours and swallowing your protests. Bokuto is rocking up against you, you realize, the hard press of his clothed cock rutting into your ass, grinding into you and muffling his voice against your shoulder. 

“Easy, Kou!” Kuroo laughs, pulling back so he can get a better look at you, the slackened weight of your body, limbs twitching but unable to find the strength to really move. Three edibles was definitely too much for you, but there’s no way to take it back, no way to dampen the effects. You’re stuck on a rollercoaster ride that’s way more intense than you bargained for, and there’s no exit in sight. 

You take advantage of the vacated space between your legs to snap them shut, knees pressed tightly together while you twist your face out of Akaashi’s gentle grip. 

“Don’t be like that.” Kuroo breathes, leaning up over your lap to try getting in your face, a grin unfurling across his lips when you jerk your head to the side to avoid his stare, to avoid Akaashi’s attempts at coaxing you back to him. Both desperate and eager, thinly veiled anticipation swelling behind a flimsy barrier of self-restraint.

But Kei is there to meet you, a hand at your jaw, he ignores your shaky whine of protest and pulls you in with unabashed want in his eyes, flushed high on his cheeks with color when his lips slant over yours. It’s a hungrier kiss than you’d have thought him capable of, hard and hot with greedy, wandering hands. He grips the back of your neck tight to keep you from ripping away, a shaky breath that warms your lips as he tilts his head, the sound muffled when he takes your mouth again. You feel lost in him, swept up in it even as a quiet part of you remains acutely aware of the eyes on you, refusing to allow you to fully submerge yourself in incoherence. 

Bo is at your neck, kissing, sucking, teeth scraping over sensitive skin while he rolls his hips into you, hands that are searing hot pulling you back on every upstroke so he can grind himself against you at his leisure. Everyone, everywhere, all of it at once stifling, the rough fingertips that drag over your bare skin, lips like velvet that drop kisses onto every bare inch of you within reach, the flicker of something silken that leaves a trail of wetness as it draws a path along the clothed apex of your thighs, as much as it can reach with the way you squeeze them so tightly together.

It’s too much. You feel like you’re burning all over, filled with puffy cotton and bees that buzz around inside your ribs and your skull. It’s hard to think, hard to move, like motion blur that’s happening in real life. 

You open your mouth to protest, or complain, anything that might voice your displeasure but then Tsukki is kissing you harder, slipping his tongue into your mouth and chasing the lingering taste of Akaashi’s popcorn. His teeth click against yours in his eagerness, desperate in how he tries to get as close as he can. It’s like the facade from before has completely dissolved, leaving something behind that you’re not sure you recognize.

You’ve never seen desire like this on his face before.  

Rough hands pry your thighs apart, a cheshire grin curling between them as Kuroo settles in the space there once more, eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust staining his cheeks pink. “Just wanna play with you a little, baby.” He breathes, mouthing hot kisses into your inner thighs, sucking bruises deep into the skin until you’re squirming. 

“Stop it, Kur–!” You try to protest, but your words are muffled around the tongue that fills your mouth, the fingers digging into your cheeks to hold you in place. Then Bo is hoisting you up a little, letting Kuroo slip your panties and shorts down your shaking legs. You try to kick out, to fight it, but your movements are slow and he catches you by the ankle easily, giving you a cheeky grin before hooking it over his shoulder and pressing a kiss there. 

He works his way up your leg that way, with kisses and sharp hisses of his teeth digging into your skin, his tongue laving over each bite as if that will soothe the pain. Bokuto settles you back against his chest, a large hand dipping down to cup your sex possessively, fingers curling to gently pull you apart and spread you a little wider for Kuroo’s greedy eyes. You try to buck away, but his other arm keeps you locked securely in his lap, sturdy and unmoving.

You feel a new sense of vulnerability that you’ve never felt with them before. Scared and scraped raw like an exposed nerve, shaking as Bo circles your clit with thick fingers. You aren’t very wet, but that doesn’t seem to deter him. Akaashi has just been watching, heavy-lidded with one arm draped across the back of the couch, leaning in close so he can see Tsukishima ravage your mouth, so he can watch Kuroo smother your legs with kisses and hickeys, rapt attention unwavering as Bokuto tries to coax arousal from the hot clench of your cunt.

You’re mortified when he succeeds, the sounds of his fingers gliding between your folds growing slick, louder, your hips twitching against your will. 

“Don’t fight it, sweet thing. Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good, alright? Our girl is gonna have a real nice night.” Kuroo dips down to press one more kiss to the sensitive inside of your thigh, meant to soothe, to placate you, but you just won’t stay still.  

Despite the heavy, sluggish quality to your body, you don’t stop moving. Your hips buck, twist, you try to pull away from the iron arms encircling you from all sides, the lips that ruthlessly claim your mouth again and again every time you manage to get a sliver of space between you.

“Stay still! ” Bokuto groans, voice too thick for his throat, cracking as you continue to rub against his cock in your attempts to get away. He’s whining softly, rutting his hips into you, panting as he kisses along the back of your neck and your shoulders while rolling your clit between slick fingers. 

“Be patient, Bokuto.” Akaashi murmurs, tipping forward to leave his share of kisses along your neck, significantly more gentle than the bruises that Kuroo covers you with. “She’s high, you know she’s more sensitive like this.” 

Tsukishima mutters something into your mouth that sounds vaguely insulting, undeterred when you try again to break away with a loud cry. Once more he pulls you back in, once more he molds the plush of your lips to the shape of his own, and he sucks gently on your tongue in time with the swipe of Bo’s fingers over your clit. It hurts a little with how hard he kisses you, your mouth feeling raw and sensitive to the touch but every time you try to twist away, he only holds you tighter, kisses you harder. 

It’s too much. 

Your chest is heaving now, lashes fluttering as the thick blanket of your high threatens to overwhelm you completely, fracturing any coherent train of thought you try to cling to. Whenever you break the surface, someone is there to push you back under, to keep you contained in the fuzzy headspace that makes you physically pliant, even if your mouth still runs with protests whenever Kei lets you take a breath. 

“It’s been two hours, we’re sure it’s fully set in?” Kuroo asks, finally using his mouth for something other than marking you up. He rests his cheek on your knee, watching with slightly swollen lips curled into a smile as you begin lifting your hips to press against Bokuto’s hand, your brow a little furrowed as Tsukki tries to gentle his kiss, wanting you to reciprocate, needing to feel you kiss him back. 

“She was giggling during the music intermission.” Akaashi points out, slow and soft just below your ear, teeth scraping over the shell of it and making you keen. 

It’s a good enough assurance that they don’t bother to question it further.

Bo chuckles softly, nuzzling the nape of your neck in a gesture that would almost be tender if not for the cruel way he teases your cunt with his fingers, gathering your slick and rubbing circles into your clit with it. “See, baby? It’ll be okay, we’re gonna make you feel good and you won’t even have to remember any of this.” He croons, like that should be comforting to you.

But there's part of you, the small, fragile part of you that’s just coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, that’s just purely terrified.

You whine into Tsukki’s mouth, trembling as you try to force your body to cooperate, to fight back, to move . Pliant, soft, you’re molten in their hands no matter how you try to make yourself get away. Your hips buck, warmth building steadily between your thighs that you wish you could ignore. They work you over gently, insistently. Akaashi runs a hand through Kuroo’s hair, guiding him with a firm grip to move him closer until he’s mere inches from your drooling cunt. He makes a strangled noise that you feel against your slick skin, eyes hazy and half-lidded as he watches you begin to crumble.

It feels good, so much better than even if you were sober, everything feels more intense and it’s like Bo knows exactly how to touch you. 

Like he’s done this before. 

Something cold settles in your gut, hard like a chipped diamond. You whimper again, bringing your hands up slowly to press against Kei’s shoulders, though your effort is abysmally weak. 

Finally, he pulls away. Flushed, panting, glasses a little skewed with his honey eyes heavy-lidded and his pupils blown wide. He moves to cover one of your hands with his own, squeezing gently and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm. 

It almost feels sweet, but then he’s kissing you again, swallowing your flimsy protest with a needy sound that strikes you hot like a match.

Then you’re being pulled back, a cool and soft hand guiding you by your jaw close enough for Akaashi to kiss you as well. It’s a little messy, the way two mouths like hot silk glide over yours, but something in it stirs heat in your belly, the gentle way Tsukki murmurs in your mouths and rubs your cheek with his thumb. It feels more intimate than it should, romantic in a strange way, even as you mewl and whimper and buck your hips, lost to it all.  

Kuroo groans, low in the back of his throat before he’s straightening up and drawing close enough that you try to break away, but Akaashi holds you firm, not letting you shy away from them, and he murmurs something that sounds like it might be meant as a reassurance, but the words are slick and sticky like syrup, filling your mouth with sugar but doing nothing to ease you beyond that. A hand cups the nape of Tsukishima’s neck, and then Kuroo drags him in for a kiss of his own, giving you just a little more space to breathe before it’s filled with Akaashi’s tongue. 

“Stop.” You whimper, muffled by silken lips, your thighs tensing as you try to move your legs, to kick against Kuroo’s grip in an attempt to gain some kind of leverage to push against, but he just keeps your leg locked tight against his shoulder while Bokuto holds the other one hooked over his knee, forcing you to spread wider until your hips start to burn. 

“But you’re so close, baby.” Bo coos, teasing and almost enamored when he asks– “Don’t you wanna cum? For me?” 

At his words, it seems like everything else comes to a halt, hands frozen in place and lips stilling against yours. Kuroo and Tsukishima separate, with the former leaning back far enough that he can watch, mesmerized, as Bokuto swirls glistening fingers over your clit, sloppy circles that only falter when your bucking hips throw off his rhythm. Akaashi helps to hold you down, keeping you from ruining your own orgasm despite how you practically wail in protest. 

“Close?” Kuroo breathes, eyes bright and wild with something frenzied. “Gonna cum for us, pretty? Want us to watch you cum?” He leans in, inches from your dripping, messy pussy, you can feel the warmth of his breath as he moans softly at the sight before one hand comes down hard on your thigh, a sharp slap that rips a cry from deep in your throat. 

Akaashi lets out a ragged sound and presses closer, panting softly as he reaches out to lay the flat of his palm across your throat. He applies no pressure, just curls his fingers loosely around your neck to feel the thrumming of your pulse and the noises you try to choke back, the vibrations he can feel but cannot hear. “Bokuto.” He rasps, hips twitching, and one of Kuroo’s hands slides up his thigh to palm the hard outline of his cock. It’s blissful, he nearly moans aloud at the relief. “Harder, a little harder.” It’s a soft command, and even unclear as to who he’s speaking to, both of them hurry to obey. 

Kuroo strokes him slowly through his slacks, though his eyes remain locked on your face, watching as your features begin to screw up in a weak attempt at staving off the pleasure foisted upon you. Futile, as Bo presses down just a little harder as Akaashi demanded, tight and measured circles that make you feel like you’re about to simultaneously melt and combust all at once. 

You nearly sob when the pressure between your thighs increases, building rapidly and crawling up from the base of your spine. “Please. ” You beg, voice scratchy and strained, eyes rolling back when it begins to ripple through you, the first flickering touch of your orgasm. 

“Oh, baby, don’t start begging yet.” Kuroo coos, sickly sweet. “We’ve barely started.” 

You’re horribly aware of their eyes on you when you cum, wishing you could drown it out, wishing you could pretend that it’s just you and some faceless figure bringing you to the brink in your inebriated state, but that’s not the case at all, they would never let you forget who is making you feel good. 

Kei is unmistakable, the tight way he squeezes your hand, the burning brand of his focus with you being the sole recipient of his attention. He’s coaxing you along, tipping your chin up to keep you from ducking your head to hide your face, forcing you to bare yourself to them as tears well up along your lashes, glittering.  

Akaashi is praising you. His face buried in your neck, the soft whisper of his moans an echo of his worship. “So beautiful.” He breathes, lips tracing the heady thrum of your pulse. “Look at you, you’re so good for us, so sweet. Do you like it? Does it feel good?” 

His voice drops, then, a low rasp. “ Tell me, tell me it feels good, love, tell me how Bokuto makes you feel.”

You can barely croak out a whimper, shuddering as Bo drags your orgasm out. It’s longer than you’ve ever made yourself cum before on your own, nearly overwhelming to the point of overstimulation even though it hasn’t even ended yet. Weaker, small tremors that flutter through your abdomen, muscles clenching and contracting around nothing, but still enough to leave you breathless and boneless. 

Kuroo shoves Bo’s hand out of the way, impatience rearing its head as he buries his face between your thighs. The slick glide of his tongue is a shock, drawing a sharp, shocked cry from your lips. He shuffles closer on his knees, hooking both your legs up high over his shoulders now while he loses himself in the sticky mess of your cunt, a moan muffled that sends vibrations all the way up your spine. 

You try to scramble away, the shock of oversensitivity bordering on sharp and painful, but Kuroo doesn’t let you move too much. Bokuto spreads your sex apart with his fingers, splitting you apart for the heat of Kuroo’s tongue to glide along the full length of your slit. You buck upwards on reflex, a moan catching in your throat when he meets you halfway, pressing you back down before you can try to squirm away from the greedy pull of his mouth. 

“Too much!” You choke, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes, vision blurring sharply. His mouth is too hot, the pressure too much when he sucks on your clit. It’s surprisingly gentle, all things considered, but you’re three edibles deep and it’s still just too much.  

“You can take it, come on baby.” Bokuto encourages you with a warm kiss just below your ear, breaths heavy and thick as you rock back onto his cock, a steady circling of your hips that you’re not even aware of. 

Kuroo cradles you like you’re precious, hands gentle but unyielding while they grind your hips against his mouth, still firm with the way they hold you tight, lifting you to ride the flat of his tongue until your knees are shaking atop his shoulders. 

“She’s close already.” Kei breathes, then swallows a sharp noise when you squeeze his hand mindlessly, your eyes snapping to catch his gaze at the sound of his voice. 

Helpless, he leans in, his breath hitching when you tip your chin up to meet him in the middle. Your hips jerk once, a thick haze spilling over you like hot honey, and then you melt, molten beneath them as Kuroo brings you to the brink. It’s slower, this time, but it feels hotter, brighter, your body coiled up ready to snap with warm hands pressing all over you, bringing you back down when you arch off of Bo’s lap with a cry. 

Kei holds you to him, gasping into your mouth like he’s the one cumming instead of you. He cradles the back of your head lovingly, gentle in a way he’s never been with you before this. Part of you feels a stab of bitterness at the thought, but then he deepens the kiss and you can’t focus on anything else. When you press into it, he moans into you like you’ve just given him his first sip of water in the height of a draught. Even as you’re coming down from your second high, he’s only getting more amped up, harder and harder he kisses you, desperate, hips rocking against nothing in a fruitless pursuit of pleasure. 

Gentle fingers circle your clit, then, and your knees reflexively attempt to clamp shut. Kei nearly whines when you pry your lips apart, and the neediness of his voice would have given you pause if not for the firm insistence of the hand between your legs.  

“Akaashi!” You whine, jerking away when he strokes along the slick glide of your sex. It’s too raw, too sensitive, his touch burns but he leans towards you with a soft murmur and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“Don’t worry, love.” He hums, tilting his body further inwards to face you, kissing you again to distract you when he slowly pushes a single finger inside of you. It’s easy, the way you seem to suck him in, and his moan is breathy when you tighten up around him. “Still feels good, right?” 

It doesn’t, but he pulls his wrist back slowly, and this time when he presses in it’s with two fingers, crooking gently once he’s all the way inside. 

Slow, methodical, his fingertips ghost over the spot that makes you squirm and his lips quirk into half a smile. “See? You can give us more like this, right?” 

No. No you cannot. You’re sure of it, even as he begins to fuck you slowly, the slick sounds making your face burn with shame even still flushed hot from your high. Already, you can feel your legs twitching, a steady, practiced build that pulls a sob deep from your chest. 

“Please.” You babble, tears welling along your lash line. “Please, it’s too much, ‘Kaashi. Too much. Hurts.” 

To your surprise, he actually listens to you, slowing down and pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that should be comforting, but isn’t. “How bad?” He asks, and Bokuto reaches around to tilt your face up so he can look at you properly, twin expressions of worry that feel out of place with how they’ve been treating you. 

You swallow, for a minute unable to catch your breath, hiccuping around the sobs that you try desperately to stifle. Akaashi croons, slipping his fingers out of you and pulling you close with his other hand. He strokes your spine and kisses all over your face, tasting the salt of your tears on your skin before kissing you once more on the lips with a strange sense of finality. 

As if responding to an unspoken order, Kuroo gets up, and then Bo is lifting you, gently, standing with you held securely in his arms. For the first time tonight you find yourself really looking at him, his flushed face and glassy gold eyes that are dark with blown out pupils. He smiles at you, bringing you closer while leaning his head down to kiss you languidly on the mouth. It’s chaste compared to how Akaashi and Tsukki had bullied you with kisses earlier, but you’re not fooled by the thin veil of sweetness. There’s still tension thick in his muscles, you can feel it in the way he strains to hold himself in check, some non-verbal rule keeping him from acting on whatever pent up desires he’s harboring. 

They take you to your room, with Kei stopping by the kitchen to get a glass of warm water. 

Bokuto lays you down on your bed gently, with Akaashi pulling up a cool sheet over you and brushing the hair from your forehead. Kuroo crawls beneath the covers beside you, pulling you in until your back hits his chest and your curled body is snugly tucked into the space he creates when he wraps himself around you. 

For a moment, you think it’s over. You think that maybe they’re actually backing off, and maybe you can go to sleep and forget any of this ever happened. 

Then Kei crawls onto the bed with you, pushes the sheet up your body until it’s bunched over your stomach, and then parts your thighs slowly to settle between them. He’s broad, forcing your hips to stretch wide just to accommodate him, but the pain of it lessens when he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and uses it as leverage to pull you closer. 

The first gentle lap of his tongue is almost too light for you to feel, lost in the muddled haze that’s trying to pull you to sleep. But he does it again, and again, soft little licks against your sore clit, fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs to keep them open. You try to squirm away, but Kuroo shushes you, one hand sliding from your hip up along your ribs, gathering the material of your shirt and pushing it up. 

“At least let her drink the water you brought for her.” Akaashi sighs, apparently the only remaining voice of reason, and reaches down to lift your head up, tipping the cold glass against your kiss-bruised lips. 

You whimper softly in protest, but even the room temperature liquid feels like ice against your parched throat, soothing the discomfort that felt like sand spilling into your lungs. You drain the whole glass, and then Bokuto is leaning in over Akaashi, pressed against his back to take the cup from him. 

“Do you want more?” He asks, achingly sweet, and were it not for Kei’s head buried between your thighs and Kuroo’s hands cupping your breasts, it would almost feel domestic the way they’re taking care of you. 

“I want you to stop.” You breathe, your chest heaving once when a gentle pressure pulls at your clit. Unthinking, you look down to catch Kei’s gaze, with his half-lidded eyes and glasses pushed atop his head to keep his bangs out of the way. He muffles a moan against you and shoves himself a little more insistently between your legs, trying to crawl as close as possible without being inside of you. For now. 

“Don’t want to.” He mumbles, even knowing your statement had been directed towards Bokuto. It doesn’t really hurt, he’s lapping at you with such little force behind each glide of his tongue, it just feels hot and wet, slippery as your arousal begins to smear along his face and the insides of your thighs. He’s making a mess, but it doesn’t seem like he even cares enough to notice, small little noises that you can’t hear spilling from his lips directly into the sticky folds of your cunt. 

You feel it begin to build slowly, and you nearly sob at the first tremor of pleasure that rolls through your body. Your face screws up, the muscles in your abdomen coiled taut in an attempt to stave it off, but the edibles betray you. You’re pliant, sensitive, and no matter how you try to shift or move to escape, there’s a pair of hands waiting to keep you pinned down, forcing you to simply endure . 

You’re slack, languid beneath them when Akaashi moves down the bed to join Kei between your legs. They’re stretched as wide as they can go, your hips burning, the leg previously draped over Kei quickly moved to Akaashi’s shoulder instead to make room for him, with the other held in Kuroo’s grasp to open you up just a little more.  

Bokuto takes the chance to kiss you, displeased that he hasn’t had the chance to do it as much as the others.  It’s messier, his tongue eager as it explores your mouth, slick fingers curled beneath your chin to tip your face this way and that, changing the angle as it pleases him. 

Akaashi is gentle when he presses his fingers into you again, unperturbed by the wet passing of Kei’s tongue. You squirm, whining at the brief flare of something sharp and sensitive, but Bo murmurs into your mouth to try and distract you, to placate you. 

Kuroo is content to watch, grinding lazily against your ass while palming the soft swell of your breasts, the rough pads of his fingertips ghosting over your nipples to make you quiver. You’re caged in on all sides, the stimulation is almost overwhelming, and yet as close as you teeter along the edge of too much, they don’t actually cross it this time. Akaashi’s fingers grind gently into your sweet spot, and then he’s up, leaning across your torso where Kuroo meets him half-way for a kiss, but he doesn’t stop fucking into you even still.

You’re a little dazed at the sight of them, delirious from the intensity of it all, watching as Kuroo fists a hand in Akaashi’s hair and yanks on it, dragging a moan from the man with his fingers buried in your cunt. He pulls harder, swallowing each little noise Akaashi makes with an echoing moan of his own. It’s surreal, and then Bo nips at your lips with his teeth in a bid for your attention, muffling a whine by sucking the tip of your tongue into his mouth. 

Bo tastes sweet, like some of the cherry flavored candy he’d stolen from you earlier, and your mind tilts on its axis at the dizzying thought that you’ve kissed 3 of your best friends in one night.

“Can taste her on you.” Akaashi murmurs into Kuroo’s mouth, voice thick and hoarse with arousal. His fingers crook sharply, driving into you a little harder, the sound loud and messy even over the ringing in your ears, the buzz and the layers of fluffy, dreamy cotton. 

Bokuto groans softly and pulls away from you, a sticky, wet sound that makes you flinch when you part, and the saliva on your lips cools rapidly, strings of it connecting you still. He grins, a dopey sort of smile, before he’s leaning across you towards Kuroo. “Let me taste it.” He pleads softly, eagerly, as polite as you’ve ever heard him. Akaashi moves first, with a smile, guiding Bo in by the jaw to join their kiss. 

You wonder if you’re dreaming at this point, if you passed out somewhere along the way and this is just a strange figment of your imagination that the edible has conjured. You watch, enraptured by the sight of them kissing above you, pulling each other in by fistfuls of hair and muffling the soft moans that threaten to spill free. 

Kei suckles gently on your clit, the first sharp stimulation he’s given you, and your back arches high off the bed, though it’s quickly pushed down by a random pair of hands. You can’t even tell who’s touching you anymore, it’s all blurring together. Unbidden, you reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, blonde silk wrapped around your hand tight enough that when you tug, he gasps. His hips grind hard into the bed when you pull on it, swallowing back another moan when you keep pulling until you have his attention. He gives it to you, eyes glassy but ultimately entirely focused on your face. 

“Tsukki…” You whine, rolling your hips and keening when he holds the flat of his tongue steady for you to grind against. “Gentle…” 

You can feel the way he grins, the shaky breath he lets out at your acquiescence. As if, in some twisted way, he takes this as permission granted.

“Okay.” He agrees, barely audible. “Gentle.” 

Though you hadn’t thought they were paying attention, Akaashi slows down as well, massaging the gummy spot inside of you instead of fucking into it. His fingers are so long and lithe, cool before but now warmed and slick from being buried inside the needy squeeze of your cunt. 

Impossibly, they manage to wring one more orgasm from your tired, buzzing body. The three of them separate when Kei murmurs aloud that you’re getting close, with Bokuto returning to your side and Akaashi retaking his spot between your legs. Kuroo snuggles into your back, cooing sweetly in your ear and helping you grind into Kei’s mouth by pushing into your hips with his own, purring out praise while watching you ride the slick heat of his tongue. 

You move along with him mindlessly, allowing Kuroo to grind into your ass so he can control the pace for you. Kei squeezes your hips with fingers that tremble, his voice pitching a little higher when Kuroo has you fucking yourself on his tongue. He presses his mouth to you with a near whine, brows knitted tight together as he begins rutting against the bed in earnest, unable to help himself when he can tell that you’re seconds from cumming in his mouth. 

“Wanna cum, pretty?” Bo asks, pitching forward with his knees digging into the mattress, bowed over you and caging both you and Kuroo in with his arms. This time he gets to see up close, he gets to watch your face when you cum. As much as he loved being able to feel the full-body tremors that ripple through you while you squirmed on his lap, he missed the sight of your pretty face all twisted up in pleasure.  

You don’t answer, can’t answer. Your tongue feels heavy, leaden with honey and sugar, candied. The bees are louder, buzzing bright in your arms and your head, drowning out nearly everyone else. It feels like you’re on fire, and any protests that might have lingered, any desire to stop, all of it falls away. 

They can see it, the way you melt, the way you lean in to silently ask for a kiss from Bo, the way your free hand dips to catch Akaashi by the jaw, stroking the cut of it with gentle, but clumsy fingers. Kuroo grins when he feels you begin to rock back against him, torn between grinding into his cock and fucking yourself against Kei’s tongue. 

“That’s it…” He breathes, calcite eyes bright in the dim lighting of your room. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you, go ahead and get nice and sweet for us.” 

You pull away from Bokuto, breathless, glassy-eyed when you turn to face Kuroo, twisting in his arm just enough that you can reach him easily. It’s difficult, and a little awkward, but Kei has a bruising grip on your thighs that keeps you from turning onto your back. Kuroo smiles at you, a little questioningly, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek and slowing the forceful push of his hips to give you a chance to speak.  

“Kiss?” You murmur, your voice catching when Bo’s head dips down to litter kisses atop your breasts, lashes fluttering as another pulse of hot pleasure courses through you. You know you shouldn’t be asking for this, but you can’t think of anything beyond wanting to feel good, the mindless pursuit of all of the pleasure that they’re willing to give you. You don’t care about why it’s happening anymore, that they weren’t giving you a choice, the only thing that matters is how they’re making you feel. 

He groans quietly and props himself up to lean over you. “I would love nothing more.” 

Kuroo’s kiss is intense, the way he squeezes your cheek with one hand, pulling you into him with a soft, aching noise muffled against your lips. He swallows your cries when you try to babble out that you’re going to cum, tasting the lingering flavors mingling from all the other kisses you’ve shared tonight with the others and steadfastly ignoring your pitching voice. You pull harder on Kei’s hair, feeling him groan against you before one of his hands wraps around yours, coaxing you into doing it again. You do, fisted at the roots and trying to drag him closer even though there’s nowhere left for him to go. 

“You’ll make him cum by doing that.” Kuroo croons, both a warning and a tease. “Careful, baby, Tsukki likes when you get rough with him, lets him know that he’s making you feel good.” 

In response, Kei lets out a whine into your pussy, muffled but high and needy, desperation raw on his face as he looks up at you through sunkissed lashes. It’s so unlike him, so different from the passive looks he’d given you earlier, disinterest feigned from across the room. Akaashi twists his wrist, fingers curling inwards until your back is bowing off the mattress and Bo has to pin you back down. He grins, head cocked, blue eyes glinting as he lowers his mouth to lap at your clit, and Kei stops just long enough to share a kiss with him before they take turns mouthing at your twitching cunt. 

You break, coiled taut like a rusted spring that snaps against the pressure. 

Bo sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when you cum, feeling the way you twitch and spasm in his arms, watching your legs quiver with the effort of straining to slam shut, only kept apart by the two men sprawled between them and the hand keeping one hitched up to the side. He watches with pinpricked eyes as Kuroo’s tongue glides into your mouth, opening you up so that they can hear the way you murmur and gasp with pleasure as you ride it out.

They guide you through your orgasm slowly, gentle fingers and eager tongues, with Bokuto and Kuroo alternating between kissing you and each other, and with Kei and Akaashi trading off between suckling gently at your clit while the latter continues to abuse your sweet spot with his fingers. You’re spinning, floating, cradled along the surface of the ocean as you begin to lose the sense of whose hands are on you. Faceless, formless, little more than the pressure that bleeds hot and sweet between your thighs. 

It takes you a long time to come down, to come to, with saccharine lips pressing small kisses into your hair and all over your face. There are slick, steady fingers still grinding into you slowly, less for the sake of pleasure and more to offer a push and pull that you follow mindlessly with your hips, and when your eyes flutter open you find Bo waiting with a small smile. It widens when you look up at him, then dims as he lowers himself to kiss you. 

“Do you need a break, love? That seemed like a bit much.” Akaashi asks in a quiet murmur, carefully pulling his fingers out of you and scooting further up the bed, straddling one of your thighs while reaching to cup your face and tip it towards him so he can see you better, hooded navy eyes almost deceptively sleepy as they take you in.

Bo catches Akaashi’s wet hand by the wrist, humming as he brings it towards his mouth, the pink of his tongue startlingly bright when it flicks out to glide along his middle finger to gather the lingering taste of your arousal. You can’t even muster the sense of self to be embarrassed, too far immersed and merely coasting along the line of consciousness, but Kuroo groans quietly at the sight and you feel him throbbing against you. Akaashi kisses you, cradling your jaw with his free hand since the other is currently occupied. You taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, though the potency has lessened with all of his shared kisses.

Kei sits up, absentmindedly wiping his mouth on his shoulder while watching you, flushed and with mussed up hair, his glasses all tangled up in it. Kuroo snickers, reaching out to gently remove the frames from atop his head and setting them safely on the nightstand on his side of the bed. 

For a moment, they do let you breathe. Bokuto leaves to get you all some water, Akaashi helps you drink it, and Kei lays between your legs with his head resting on your stomach, pressing tender kisses into your skin to soothe you, mindful of the way you twitch and convulse beneath his weight. 

It’s comforting, in a way, and almost enough to make you forget how all of this started in the first place.

Then Bokuto is moving, kissing you once on the lips before withdrawing from your side to stand at the foot of your bed. Your eyes flutter open when Kei lets out a strangled, high-pitched noise, and you look up to see Bo dragging him back by the hips until he’s propped up on his elbows and knees, scowling but painfully hard, a dark stain spreading out from his crotch from where he’d been rubbing against your sheets while eating you out. All the friction has bunched up the material of his sweats, and the head of his cock pokes out from the waistband with a thick drop of prespend beading at the tip. He looks at you, sees you staring, and chokes on a noise caught between embarrassment and yearning. 

“Come on, might as well give her a show while she’s taking a break.” Bokuto grins, a little wolfish as he grinds his hips hard into Kei’s, rutting shamelessly as greedy hands pull at his waist to yank him back on every forward thrust. Kei's jaw is gritted, flushed to the temples as he tries to avoid spilling too early when Bo tugs his cock free, though he can’t help fucking into the tight clench of his fist despite himself. 

“Look at that, you got him all worked up, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Never seen him act like such a slut, I guess he couldn’t hold back anymore.”

Akaashi kisses you once, hot and thorough as he licks the seam of your lips until you part for him. But it doesn’t last long, he pecks you once more, and then Kuroo, before he’s sliding off of the bed to help Bokuto strip Kei down, gentle hands followed by quick kisses after each article of clothing is removed. 

Kei is flustered, you note distantly, some far off part of you recognizing his embarrassment. Flushed and pointedly avoiding your gaze, his eyes stubbornly locked onto your sheets, the muscles in his arms tensing as he holds himself up. You’re enamored with this new side of him, the greed and the surprising shyness both.

Acting on impulse, you scoot further down to join them at the foot of the bed, slipping beneath where Kei is bent over with your legs spread around his parted knees, his hands fisted in the sheets above your shoulders. Bo, leaning over his back, grins down at you and blows you a kiss that seems nearly comical despite the situation. 

Then again, you’ve completely lost touch with how the situation is supposed to feel to begin with, perhaps it’s not comical at all. You loop your arms around Kei’s neck, shivering when Bokuto dips down to kiss your fingers sweetly. 

Akaashi takes your spot at the head of the bed, curled against your pillows and leaning into Kuroo’s arms, the two sharing slow, lazy kisses while watching the three of you through foggy eyes. 

Weight presses down on you when Kei’s arms buckle, a sharp moan spilling across your clavicle when Bo begins working him open with slick, thick fingers. His hips rock slowly against nothing, back curved into a pretty arch with a heavy hand pressed into his lower back. He kisses you, messily, a smear of lips and tongue leaving a path of heat from your mouth down between your breasts. 

Then he’s cupping the sides of your head, caging you in with his arms as he leans in to kiss you properly. He uses you to muffle the way he cries out at the first press of Bokuto’s cock, burning hot even through the condom wrapped around him. You’re a little dizzy, shocked at this version of Kei, wanton in a way you’ve never seen. His lips are shiny and a little swollen from the force of his kisses, face flushed as though he’d sprinted a marathon, a light sheen of your arousal covering his cheeks down to his jaw. Between your bodies, his cock twitches when he realizes you’re just staring at him, and the little noise that he lets out when he breaks away from you is addictive. High and sweet, so unlike your Kei that you feel enamored with it, wanting him to make that sound again. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes, pants against your lips, brow furrowed in an expression tinged with shame and excitement as he tries to avert his eyes. 

“But you’re so pretty, Kei.” You murmur, voice cracked and whispery, the first words you’ve managed to choke out in what feels like hours. It’s sweet praise, and you find yourself tangling your fingers into his hair to pull on it the way you now know he likes, a twist and a tug until his head snaps back and his whole body shudders above you. His eyes blow wide, and Bo is the only one who gets to watch the way his pupils bloom and contract wildly. 

“F-fuck!” He gasps, hips canting back to meet Bokuto’s thrusts, his cock throbbing weakly as it bobs in the air just above your stomach. Pearly fluid beads at the tip, dribbling down the thick shaft with every dry thrust of his hips into nothing, swaying every time Bo’s hips slap against his ass. You can’t look away, even when he tries to cover your eyes with a shaky hand, it’s easily knocked to the side by Kuroo, who has shuffled forward to kneel beside the two of you. He and Bo share a look, mischief lurking in twin pools of honey, before his attention is on you. 

He presses a kiss to Kei’s shoulder, though his eyes are on you when he asks– “How about we help him with that, baby? Wanna?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, fingers lacing with yours before bringing your hand up to meet hot, slick flesh. Kei is like a brand against your palm, twitching at your touch and dripping with the pre that’s steadily dribbled out of him ever since he first got to put his hands on you. 

“Kuroo–you– fuck !” Kei groans when Kuroo tightens his grip, forcing the clench of your fingers to wrap around him snugly, so tight that he has to rely on Bo’s hard, punched out thrusts to force his cock into your fist. 

“There we go.” Akaashi’s voice is closer than you expect, you hadn’t even felt the mattress shifting beneath him as he moved. “Doesn’t that feel better, Kei?” 

He kneels at your side on the floor, eye-level and watching aptly as your thighs begin to twitch, with you attempting to rub them together to alleviate the ache building deep in your belly. He doesn’t miss the way you begin to rock against nothing, though the whole of your attention is on the man hovering over you, the way his face screws up tight, the sweat dripping down his neck. 

You pull him down by his hair so you can follow a droplet of sweat with your tongue as it rolls down the column of his throat, squeezing his cock a little tighter and rubbing your thumb against the drooling slit as you taste the salt of his skin, tracing its path back up the arch of his throat to his jaw. He gasps, his hips stuttering, and then Bokuto lets out a breathy laugh and starts fucking him harder. 

“What’s got you all tight like that, Tsukki?” He teases, setting a bruising pace that doesn’t seem to affect him nearly as much as it should. He’s flushed, sweaty, but his eyes are bright and he shows no signs of fatigue, no signs of slowing down. Still, he claws at Kei’s waist with mounting desperation, moaning freely and loudly as he pulls even harder on his hips, dragging him back onto his cock a little rougher each time.

You’ve always thought Bokuto was attractive, but you’ve never seen him quite like this. Primal, in a sense, lost to his passions and swept up in them without a thought to repercussions or the aftermath. He uses Kei almost like a toy, a bruising grip on his hips, thoughtlessly shoving the blonde’s legs further apart with his knees to finetune the position however he wants. Dominant in a way that isn’t aggressive, he handles control like a well-worn tool that fits perfectly in his hand. 

And he is controlling, even blissed out and near incoherent, you can tell that much. If he thinks Kei is getting too greedy, he slows down, until his gentle thrusts aren’t even enough to force Kei’s cock through your fist, waiting until his voice begins to pitch high with tangible desperation to go faster. If either of them start to get close, he stops completely, tracing the graceful arch of his spine with kisses to distract them both from the way Bo throbs, hot and thick inside of him. He controls how much pleasure Kei receives, and while there’s not a single person in your room that could be considered weak, Bokuto is physically the most capable. There’s no fighting back against him when there’s something he wants. 

“K–Kou fuck, slow do–wn!!” Kei hisses, jaw clenched so tight that he looks like he’s in pain. His arms brace against the sides of your head, fisting the sheets and pulling as if that will give him any amount of leverage, but with Kuroo using your hand to stroke his cock, and with Bo drilling into his prostate, he’s overwhelmed and outnumbered.  

And Kuroo is all too happy to quicken the pace as well, forcing you to stroke Kei on the same beat that Bo fucks into him, speeding up and slowing down at his whim while steadfastly ignoring the way it makes him cry. 

The two of them working in sync should be setting off warning bells, nothing good ever comes from their cooperation, but all you can focus on is how pretty Kei looks when he’s like this, when his whole body is quivering from the onslaught of pleasure attacking him on all sides.

“Close!” He grits out, helpless but to continue fucking the tight squeeze of your fist, his chest heaving at the overwhelming stimulation, breath catching in his lungs and coming up ragged, torn. Part of you feels vindicated, in a way, watching the tears that bead along his lashes, the high flush that bleeds all the way down to his chest, the way it’s clearly both too much for him and not enough. 

His head dips, forehead bumping against yours as his body is rocked to the rhythm of Bokuto’s thrusts. “Please. ” He whispers, as softly as possible, for only you to hear. Then he tips his chin up, lips seeking yours, and you let him kiss you to muffle any pretty noises that try to slip free. 

Kei is silent when he finally cums, more of his weight pressing down on you when he can no longer support himself, thrusting weakly into your hand with Kuroo keeping the pace, forcing him to take it faster than he wants. It’s when the sensitivity hits that he starts to make noise, whining into your mouth and trying to shy away from your hand, then hissing when that only pushes him back onto Bo’s cock. There’s nowhere for him to run, forced to take everything that he’s given even when it becomes too much.

His whole body shakes with the force of it, broad and hot and pinning you down into the mattress as he ruts forward uncontrollably, aided by the force of the hard thrusts fucking him open that threaten to render him just as boneless as you, just as pliant. 

His cum is liquid fire as it paints your stomach, hot and dripping down your ribs to seep into your sheets. He licks into your mouth, and you can taste yourself on him when he does, when he sucks at the very tip of your tongue before you feel the teasing bite of teeth. You whine, back arching, and he lets out a hoarse chuckle as though he isn’t bent over you, still filled thick with Bokuto, as if he isn’t on the verge of tears himself from all of the pleasure.  

He throbs in your hand, softening against your palm even though he continues to rut against it, though whether or not it’s of his own initiative or Bokuto’s, you can’t really tell. 

Cold fingertips brush over your stomach, catching you off guard and alerting you to the fact that Akaashi is now leaning with his elbows pressed into the mattress, closer, heavy-lidded and flushed to the chest while watching the four of you. You swallow hard at the sight of him, the predatory glint in his eyes, the way he seems to smirk beneath the shadow cast over the lower half of his face. “Miss me? You look like you’re having fun, love.” He coos, fingers dipping into the pooling cum on your belly, smearing the thick liquid around and then guiding some of it up to your lips. You part for him thoughtlessly, mindlessly obedient as he presses down on your tongue. The taste of salt and something a little bitter fills your mouth, but it’s not unpleasant, and the look on Kei’s face while he watches you swallow it almost makes you wish you could take a picture. 

“Good girl.” Akaashi hums, and something in you swells at the praise. He does it again, though this time he’s kissing you before you can swallow, licking into your mouth where the cum has pooled and mixed with your saliva. It should be gross, it probably is gross, but then he’s smiling down at you and petting your hair and you’ve completely lost most of your inhibitions anyway, what’s one more?

Kei’s head falls against your shoulder, letting out a hoarse cry and fucking his hips forward to rut his cock against your palm. You realize, a tad late, that Kuroo hasn’t let up, using you to continue stroking even after Kei had finished. Previously softened and spent, he’s thickened out to fill the grip of your fist once more, throbbing like he’s already on the edge.  

“Come on, Tsukki.” Kuroo croons, voice dripping with something both saccharine and mocking. “Our pretty girl gave us three of those, you can give us one more, right?” 

Sparks light up in your abdomen, muscles tightening, your thighs instinctively trying to rub together even though they’re parted wide around the blonde atop of you, and Akaashi gives a small, dark grin when he sees the shock of want in your eyes. You’re blind to it, drawn in helplessly by the way Kei squirms and writhes over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder with his upper body pinning you down, the only thing keeping him up being the unrelenting grip Bokuto has on his hips.  

“Fuck her, Kei.” 

Bokuto and Kuroo stop in sync, causing Kei to choke out a sob of relief that he muffles against your neck. You flex your fingers sluggishly, sore from being squeezed so tightly for so long. Three pairs of eyes are locked onto Akaashi, a silent question hanging in the air while you distract yourself with trying to regain feeling in your static-laden arms. He smiles, tips his head towards you as if that would help them see what he has.

A fruitless gesture, Akaashi is better at reading your body language than anyone. 

When that doesn’t clarify anything for them, Akaashi elaborates with a small, fondly exasperated sigh. “She wants Kei to fuck her.” 

It clicks, and Kuroo’s answering smile is almost evil. “Oh does she?” He squeezes your hand tightly, something hard glinting in his eyes when Kei gasps out a strangled moan. “She wants him to fuck her while his cock is all raw like that? What a mean girl we have.”  

The flush from Kei’s face seems to pale, though he throbs lewdly against your hand despite the panic. “I can’t, not yet, I’m still too sensitive.” He protests, but he bites his lip, chews on it while his eyes dip down to the sticky folds of your cunt, looking like there isn’t a single thing in the world he wants more than to bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

Bokuto practically purrs, a low and sensual noise as he rolls his hips, the promise of even more pleasure driving him to keep fucking into the writhing body pinned beneath him. “I think it’s a great idea.” He grins, crooked, eyes half-lidded but far from glassy. “Don’t you wanna feel good, Tsukki? Wanna feel our princess all wrapped around you?”

Before Kei can answer, Kuroo cuts in smoothly, voice like hot velvet and chocolate. “If you don’t want to be the first to fuck her, I’ll gladly take your place.” 

If you were at all coherent, you might be able to feel the temperature drop, the tension spiking to dangerous levels, the way Kei’s eyes narrow to slits and Kuroo grins like a cheshire cat. 

You blink up at them when Akaashi tilts your face up, owl-eyed and dazed, struggling to break through the thick fog to process what they’re talking about. You’re too far gone, though, slipping deeper into a heavy, fuzzy space, blanketed with something warm and plush that is doubly reinforced by your high. 

“She’s never been in this deep before.” Kuroo muses, rubbing a thumb over your cheek and marveling at the instinctive way you turn to glance at him, your mouth parting when the digit grazes over your bottom lip. He coos, soft, and dips down to take advantage by kissing you. 

Akaashi’s voice turns from silken to sour. “I tried to warn her that taking three was too much, but she never listens to me.” 

Bo grins, bright and sunny, but the words that fall from his lips are anything but. “If she didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to do this though! So it’s like, making the best of a bad situation, right?” 

Chuckling softly, Kuroo guides your hand to bring the slick head of Kei’s cock to the messy, dripping heat of your cunt, tapping it against your clit and groaning when it comes away with thick strings of your arousal still attached. Kei hisses between clenched teeth and claws at the bed, pulling at the sheets until they’re longer tucked neatly beneath your mattress, forced to endure as Kuroo plays with the slick drooling from your pussy and his cock.

Tap, tap, tap. Over and over, with Akaashi watching intently to see how far away Kei’s cock can get before the glistening strands of fluid snap. Toying with you, toying with Kei, though you’re too far gone to realize it, focusing instead on the myriad of expressions flashing over his face. 

Annoyance is prevalent, but far overshadowed by lust, embarrassment, his eyes darting back and forth between your face and the fuckery going on between your legs. He likes looking at it, you can tell, but it gets him worked up too quickly so he can’t let himself stare for long. 

The first press of the blunt head sinking into you is easy, made so by the copious amounts of arousal and spit that have long since cooled. Kei lets out a loud, relieved moan as Kuroo guides him into you, hands balled into fists with his brows drawn low, the space between his knees widening as he uses them to shove yours further apart. 

It’s slow at first , but then Bokuto readjusts his grip on Kei’s hips, bends down to leave a trail of kisses along his spine, and then he snaps forward in a single thrust that ends with both of you being filled to the brim, all the way to the hilt in one fluid stroke. 

Your eyes roll back, a hard shudder wracking your body as you scrabble for something to cling to with a scream catching in your throat. Akaashi meets you, clasping your hands with his and bringing them back to pin against the mattress above your head, forcing your back into a gentle arch. 

“Kou!” You wail, teary eyes glaring up him before your lashes flutter when Kei begins to grind into you, circling his hips to try and fuck you as well as he can while being pinned between two bodies.  

He’s no better off, broad shoulders trembling as he bows over you, trying in vain to muffle his voice by kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your throat, though it only makes him sound even needier, the way he mewls and whines while sucking a burgundy mark over your rapid pulse.

Bokuto laughs, breathless, and leans back on his heels so he can watch the two of you squirm. “Yeah, baby?” He asks, all sweet spun sugar and puffy clouds. “Whaddya want? More? You want more?” 

You try to shake your head, the room spinning dangerously when you do, but you’re wholly ignored. Bokuto fucks into Kei faster, harder, pinning him down against you and leaving you both with little more to do than just lay there and take it. 

It feels so good , though. It’s more of a grind, because Bo won’t let Kei pull back far enough to actually thrust into you, and you can feel the first flickers of a budding orgasm race up your spine even though you’d thought yourself incapable of cumming again. 

Kei isn’t doing nearly as well. He’s clinging to you, moaning into the hollow of your throat while trying to roll his hips, his cock aching for more friction than either of you are giving him. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, the blush staining his skin a mottled red bordering on scarlet. When he looks at you, it’s with an expression nearly as lost as your own, glassy and distant, though he doesn’t have the comforting haze of a high to cradle him. It’s all agonizing pleasure, the hard pound of Bo’s cock digging into his prostate, the wet, clingy grip of your pussy wrapped around him, and even though he’s this sore he feels like he might die if he doesn’t cum inside of you.

You tip your head back, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink through the haze to find who you’re looking for and Kuroo is there to meet you, checking in while Akaashi coos and kisses all over Kei. 

“You okay?” He asks, nosing into your jaw and kissing you there. “What do you need, baby? Water?” 

You dip your chin to try and catch his mouth, and his laughter is muffled when you succeed. His fingers thread gently into the hair at the nape of your neck, using it to guide you into the kiss, the only thing keeping you steady while Bokuto indirectly jostles your body with the force of his thrusts. It feels like you’re made of air. Incorporeal, barely a concept despite the burning pleasure pulsing between your thighs, the only thing to keep you even semi-coherent. The pleasure is the only thing that’s tangible, and they show no signs of letting up any time soon. 

Akaashi and Kuroo trade places, or rather, they change who they’re being sweet on. Kuroo cups Kei’s face gently, thumbs swiping over teary cheeks and kissing him soundly, though instead of letting him stifle his pretty voice like you were, Kuroo licks into his mouth to keep it open, each needy whine and gasp plainly audible even over the harsh slap of skin on skin. 

Cool lips ghost along your sweaty temple, shocking and grounding you with the abrupt change in temperature, the fingers pressing your wrists into the mattress are massaging your hands gently, keeping you from slipping too far into some off-strung abyss. 

When you tilt your head back in an open invitation to ask wordlessly for a kiss, Akaashi lowers himself to you easily, parting your lips with a flick of his tongue and then drinking in the soft noises you make when Kei’s cock is grinded into you. Greedy, he tightens his hold on your wrists and pins them down a little harder, even though in your current state there’s no real hope of you resisting. It’s the feeling that he’s addicted to, holding you down, knowing intrinsically that you’re completely at his mercy, he revels in it. 

But when he kisses you, there’s none of that. He keeps it contained in his hands, his eyes, the heavy throb of his cock as it strains against the material of his boxers, but you can’t feel any of it. His lips on yours are silken, a caress, you’d be tempted to think it loving if you could think at all.

It’s nice, pleasant, but then Kuroo is taking advantage of your faintly arched back by shoving a pillow beneath your hips to prop you up a little more. The change in angle is staggering, and Kei swears out loud when you start to clench up around him, the head of his cock practically glued to that gummy spot on your inner walls, and each hard thrust from Bokuto makes you keen. 

“There it is.” Kuroo purrs, leaning back into your space to cup Akaashi’s jaw, sharing a kiss that is much sweeter than they gave either of you.

“Holy fuck I think I’m gonna cum.” Bokuto rasps, groaning softly and pressing his forehead into Kei’s back, his pace stuttering as he tries staving off his orgasm. “So good, so good. ” 

His head falls back, throat bobbing obscenely around a hard swallow, bangs falling in his face from where the gel keeping his hair spiked had begun to dissolve. He looks disheveled, flushed all the way down to his chest, but still he’s the only one who’s eyes remain crystal clear. Bo is entirely alert, even while utterly wrecking Kei, and you by proxy, he’s in complete control of himself.

Which is why he slows to a stop, not to edge himself, but to grab Kei by the hips and yank him backwards, forcing him to support his own weight with his elbows bracketing you in, then pushing forward, again and again, back and forth to force Kei into fucking the two of you instead. Every time he’s pulled back, the slick, greedy pull of your pussy tries to suck him back in, and when he’s shoved forward to the hilt inside of you, Bo unconsciously seeks him out, thrusting forward and disrupting the rhythm, and then it repeats. 

Bokuto’s focus is on you while he does it, almost silently insisting that you watch as he manhandles Kei into moving how he wants, wanting to show you how easily he strings the taller figure along to his whims, making a show of how he has as little to say in this as you do. Maybe even less, though you have no way of knowing the lengths they would go to in order to please you. 

Kei makes a strange, wobbly noise at the sudden increase in friction, all too quickly feeling overwhelmed and sensitive, the loud slap of his ass as it smacks into Bo’s thighs rings between your ears, hard and fast and faster faster faster–

Kei screams when he cums this time, and it feels so hot inside you that you think you’ve been branded. He fumbles at your jaw with his hands, fingers curling around your chin to try and hold you in place while he kisses you, messy and open mouthed, panting and choking back strangled sobs when Bokuto still doesn’t let up, forcing him to ride it out. You try to reach for him, feeling like you’re in a game that’s running three frames a second, slow and squirming against Akaashi’s grip. 

“‘Kaashi.” You whine, blinking with glassy eyes up at him, trying to convey that you want him to let you go so you can touch Kei. 

He hums thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side in a show of consideration that you’re sure is fake, false contemplation that drags it out. Kei whines at the loss, mouthing at your jaw in a bid for your attention, though it’s messy and uncoordinated. 

“Say please.” Akaashi tells you, stroking his thumb over the pulse fluttering in your wrist, a wave of shivers sending gooseflesh rising along your arms. Kei’s lips move to your neck, sucking, nipping, lost as he tries fruitlessly to muffle his wanton voice against your sweat-slicked skin. 

“Please.”  

Akaashi releases you, and you immediately reach up towards Kei and curve your hands against the hard cut of his jaw, molding them to the shape of his face while you kiss him. He blinks at you, bleary-eyed, then whimpers into your mouth when you tighten around him. 

“Too much.” He croaks, forced to keep fucking you, raw and sensitive and Bo just won’t let up.  

Akaashi pulls him in for a kiss next, and when Kei moans into his mouth he echoes the sound softly, a push and pull as he’s moved around however the other wants him. 

“Baby.” Bokuto calls for you quietly, voice breaking on the last syllable, and when you look up at him his face is flushed dark and his eyes are pleading. Desperate, and he can no longer stand the slow pace of Kei rocking back onto his cock, he needs more.   

You lift your head, meeting him half-way for a kiss that he nearly growls into, bent over Kei’s back and pushing him down with a hand at the base of his spine. You’re pressed harder into the mattress as Kei is pinned against you fully, no longer able to support any of his weight with Bokuto fucking into him with rapidly rising fervor, the slap of his hips leaving the sensitive skin of his ass a bright, vivid red. Your lips are almost numb, aching from the plethora of harsh kisses you’ve been given, and this one is no different, his mouth burns against yours, bruising the soft swell of your lips until he has to rip himself away with a loud, high-pitched whine. His hips stutter, slowing, trying desperately to reign himself in but the sight of you and Kei so thoroughly blissed and fucked out is too much. 

Despite Bo clearly being on the brink, you’re the next one to cum. It’s unexpected and quick, a shock of pleasure that has your legs clamping inwards, trying to snap shut as you arch your back and scream . For a moment, you have a stark flash of clarity, bright and hot as a horribly sharp orgasm cuts its way through you. Kei makes a harsh noise when you squeeze around him, tight and sucking him in even though he’s already as far as he can get. 

It’s dragged out even longer for the both of you when Bokuto finally cums with you, hips bucking hard and deep as he pounds relentlessly into Kei, bruising handprints coloring low on his waist that are going to linger for days as a reminder. You reach for him, mindless, whimpering at the way Kei’s pelvis grinds against your clit with every hard thrust he’s forced to take. The tips of your fingers meet stubble, then they curve beneath the cut of Bo’s jaw, curling to try and coax him into coming closer. He does, falling over Kei’s back and wrapping around him, chin on his shoulder as he ducks down to kiss you. It’s hot, and you feel like three weighted blankets have been thrown overtop of you, but then his whole body goes slack and he slumps over to the side to take some of the weight with him.

Kuroo catches him before he can fall, keeping the large spiker from collapsing on top of the two of you, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead and kissing him there. He lowers him slowly, so that he’s laid out across the mattress and can catch his breath, chest heaving but with a satisfied, almost smug smile on his face when he catches your eye. 

Kei is heavy, completely slack, hips still rocking gently into you even though Bo is no longer there to make him keep going. His face is buried in your neck, murmuring some sort of incoherence that you can’t make out with his voice muffled against your skin. 

Akaashi takes pity on you and lifts the large middle blocker to roll him onto his back and off of you, cool hands tilting his face up and checking him over, and you’re finally left to your own devices to breathe for a moment. It’s bliss. 

Everything is sore, cum dribbling out of your abused cunt, still twitching with little contractions that pulse through your core. You have to be covered in bruises, and you’d be dreading looking at your legs to find the remnants of Kuroo’s attack earlier in the living room if you could wrench yourself out of whatever hazy headspace you’ve been left in. 

You breathe slowly, drifting, thick tendrils of exhaustion creeping in now that you’re no longer being moved. It’s easy, almost, to fall asleep, to give in to the edibles deep in your system that have been trying to pull you under for hours now. Briefly, for a few precious minutes, it works, but it doesn’t last for long. 

Someone new settles between your sticky thighs, and you lift your head to see Kuroo grinning down at you, cheeks flushed crimson and his hair pushed back out of his face. 

“Hi, sweet thing.” He coos, and you shiver when the blunt head of his cock slides against your clit, a sharp lance of pain cutting up your spine. 

“Kuroo,” You whine, feeling like your mouth is too dry, too slow, the shapes of words oddly fitted on your tongue. “N’more.” 

There’s more you want to say, or you think there is, but no matter how you try to force the words out, nothing comes. 

He kisses you, soft, but he doesn’t stop grinding against your sore cunt, well-loved and still dripping with Kei’s cum. “You’re not gonna leave Keiji and me unsatisfied, right?” He murmurs against your lips, unable to hide a sly smile when you let out a shaky, shuddering breath. It’s not consent, he knows, but he’ll take you realizing that you don’t have a choice over more resistance. Your subspace had made you pliant, he wants to send you back there, but disturbing you from your little nap brought you to the forefront of your mind, even hazy as it is. 

Akaashi kisses you next, briefly, having moved from his spot on the bed to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. After rolling it on, he situates himself behind Kuroo, pushing down until he’s chest-to-chest with you. You have to crane your head back a little to look up at him, and he smiles down at you, honey eyes already glassy when Akaashi slowly begins to open him up, deft fingers stretching him out patiently. 

Part of you is relieved that you won’t be taking both of them at the same time. 

Another part of you, a small sliver curated by the murky events you’ve endured throughout the night, wishes that you were. 

Unfortunately for you, Akaashi is perceptive, and he catches the second of conflicted emotion that flashes across your face. He smiles, kisses Kuroo on the shoulder once, and then pulls away. 

The latter is confused, almost whining at the loss before he catches himself. “Keiji?” 

“Help me lift her.” Is all he says, moving around back onto the bed. Kei slides out of the way, slow and a little sluggish, but he also helps with sitting you up so Akaashi can slide beneath you on his knees. The change in position has your vision tilting, black dots swimming around even when you try to blink them away. You’re draped over Akaashi’s lap and slumped against his chest, and Kuroo is settled between your thighs, your legs wrapped tight around his waist with his hands squeezing you by the hips to keep you held up against his abdomen instead of resting on Akaashi’s thighs. 

Your head lolls, tired body boneless, and you whimper when the tip of Kuroo’s cock begins to slide into you. It’s a slight stretch, your silken walls pulsing hot around him, fluttering like the wings of a frantic butterfly. He groans low in his chest and ducks down to rest his forehead against your sternum, breathing heavily and trying to keep from bullying the rest of it into you all at once. 

Bokuto passes a bottle of unscented lube to Akaashi, waiting with a cheeky smile until he’s given a kiss before relinquishing his hold on it. 

You’re a little slow to catch on, clutching at Kuroo’s back and digging your nails in just below his shoulder blades. He throbs within you, hips pushing forward in time with his strained exhale as he breathes against you. “Baby…” He warns, cracking. 

Akaashi warms some of the lube between his hands while Kei gets a little more water in you, cupping your cheek and tipping the glass against your lips until it's empty. You feel like a doll, or a marionette with snipped strings, moved around and passed back and forth until you can barely keep track of who is doing what. 

Kuroo takes another slow, heavy breath, and something in the air changes, charges, a small thrill of electricity creeping up the back of your throat with your nerves buzzing wildly. 

When he pushes into you the rest of the way, it’s wet and loud, the squelch of his cock displacing the lube and cum against your walls making you cringe. He circles his hips slowly, fucking into you with little half-thrusts that make you squirm, still far too sensitive to really endure any friction. 

Behind you, Bokuto is fisting Akaashi’s cock with a wild grin on his face, his arm curved solidly around the dip of his waist to keep him upright. “Gotta get you nice and ready, yeah?” He pants, gold eyes bright with something a little frantic. 

Akaashi makes a low, wanting noise, his hips bucking erratically beneath you and his hands squeezing at your waist, as though wanting to bring you back against his cock even though he can’t. Tsukishima drizzles more lube onto him, cold and thick and it makes the quick glide of Bo’s hand even smoother. He speeds up to take advantage of that. 

Part of you wishes you could see it. He sounds wrecked, voice breathy in a way you’ve never heard, quiet moans that only reach you because you’re so close. 

Thankfully, intentionally or not, Bo is almost always in sync with you. “Look at that pretty face, ” He breathes, thick with arousal. “You look so good, ‘Kaashi. So pretty, just like our pretty girl.” A pause, heavy pants and moans plucked from Akaashi’s lips, then– “What’s wrong? My hand not enough for you?” He’s teasing, voice light and playful, Bo doesn’t have it in him to be genuinely degrading. “You wanna be inside her that bad? You’re not usually this impatient, don’t you wanna savor it? Look how Tetsu fucks her, you wanna do it like that?” It drops then, his voice, something low and carnal. “Or do you wanna fuck her harder ?”

You and Akaashi shudder at the same time, swept up in the rough cadence that lingers on your skin. You’ve never heard him talk like that before, though it seems to be working wonders on the man behind you. 

Kuroo catches you in a firm kiss, stealing the brunt of your focus and fucking deeper into you to keep it. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, the heat of his cock like a firm, dull pressure that rubs against you in ways that make you whine. He smiles against your lips, pecks you a few times before lifting you up until just the tip of him is inside, though you unconsciously try to pull him back in. 

“Fuckin’ greedy pussy.” He teases, but his jaw is gritted and his knuckles bleed white as he has to shove down the need to thrust back into you, to give into the needy way you try to suck him in. 

This time when he begins to press forward, Akaashi is there with him, guided too eagerly by Bo’s hands. It’s slow, and he waits until Kuroo is half sheathed within you to start the stretch. The amount of lube almost feels gross, but it makes the sting bearable, and they’re both gentle with you, taking long breaks with Kuroo kissing you as a distraction and Akaashi palming your breasts, fingers gently rolling your nipples so he can feel the way your cunt flutters around him in response. 

Kei kisses you next, and when he parts your lips something sweet like chocolate melts across your tongue. His fingers curl against the nape of your neck so he can tilt his head and then press his lips more firmly against yours, and he licks into you again to fill your mouth with the taste of a strawberry truffle. You lean into it eagerly, chasing the sweetness with little thought to how your body is being gently picked apart by expert hands. 

The burst of sugar brightens you up, clears away some of the sleep that had been layering overtop of you and drawing you in. You cup his face and pull him a little closer, suckling gently on the tip of his tongue until all of the chocolate is gone. He groans when you do, kissing you harder for a short beat before he’s pulling away. 

You try to complain, a whine creeping up your throat that is quickly cut off when Akaashi gives a short, sharp thrust into you, knocking the words from your lips and making you yelp. 

Stretched to the limit, you feel overwhelmingly full with both Kuroo and Akaashi fully hilted within you. Your hips wriggle, an experiment to test how much it will hurt, and a pleasant sharpness pierces your abdomen when you try to move. Kuroo grabs at you with a strained noise, his cock throbbing when you tighten up around them both. 

“Tsukki is already hard again.” Bo teases, but the playfulness of it is overshadowed by the raw desire you see on his face. He presses a hand to your abdomen, fingers stroking the sensitive skin of your belly before it drifts, reaching down between the press of yours and Kuroo’s bodies to gently circle your clit with his fingers, leaning over Akaashi’s back so he can still be close to you all. “You guys look so fucking good like this.” 

Kei shoots Bokuto a sharp, frigid glare that is ignored, instinctively curling inwards on himself as if he feels the need to hide, ashamed of the way his cock bobs with every erratic twitch, angry and swollen as if he hadn’t already gotten off twice. 

Listlessly, mindlessly, you reach out to wrap your trembling fingers around it, relishing in the gasp that catches in his throat. He grabs at your wrist, squeezing tight but not pulling away, knees slowly spreading apart to open himself up when you tilt your face to look at him. His face is flushed like a peach, brows drawn and his lips set in a thin line that barely hides how they tremble. 

After a brief moment, his hand moves, drops to wrap around your fingers and tightening to force them into a fist so he can fuck himself into it. He trembles, overwhelmed but still needing more, and his eyes are glued to the stretch of your pussy as it struggles to accommodate the two men who are hilted inside of you as deep as they can go.    

Bokuto mirrors him, taking your other hand and, after pressing a kiss to the back of it, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. They don’t make you move on your own, simply using your hands to please themselves while watching raptly as Kuroo and Akaashi take turns thrusting into you.

It’s awful, it’s messy, you feel utterly wrecked and debauched and your body sags heavy with the need to lay down and rest. 

And yet, you find yourself turning towards Akaashi, pressing your nose into his cheek to catch his attention. He leans into you, humming softly while slowing the already painfully gentle roll of his hips. They’ve been going so slowly the entire time, carefully alternating their thrusts to avoid hurting you too much.

“More.” You breathe, arching your back and trying to twist your hips a little, messing up their rhythm and making Kuroo choke back a moan. “More, please, Keiji.” 

His hips stutter when you say his name, fingers digging tight into your thighs and holding you in place. His cock throbs inside of you, twitches even harder when Kuroo doesn’t stop fucking into you, the slick glide of it making you both keen. 

“More?” He echoes, equal parts amused, incredulous, and yearning. Gunmetal navy flits up to catch eyes of honey, the two sharing a look before Akaashi’s attention is back on you. “Are you sure, love?” 

You nod, fingers flexing when they begin to ache, drawing deep, agonizing noises from both Bokuto and Kei. The latter tightens his hand to the point that the gripping press of your fist must be painful, but he fucks into it shamelessly, his voice pitching just a little higher as his back starts to curve, shoulders hunched as he leans forward and rests his head against Kuroo’s back. 

Akaashi hums thoughtfully, resting his chin on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while watching the myriad of expressions that cross Kei and Kuroo’s faces. He kisses you once more, almost as a warning, before his voice comes out in a soft sigh. “Alright, love. We’ll give you more.”

He rolls his shoulders, adjusts his grip and braces himself a little better on his knees so he has more leverate to fuck you. Gentle, doting Akaashi, he lines the back of your neck with kisses peppering over your skin, letting Kuroo pull you forward until just the tip of his cock remains. Then, he yanks you back down hard enough that the resounding slap! startles you, Kei, and Bo from your daze, They watch, enraptured, as Akaashi fucks up into you, hard and deep thrusts that force you up against Kuroo, pressed into his chest while he pushes on your back to smooth it into an arch. You choke on a ragged scream, feeling like they’re almost in your throat, stretching you wide and leaving you empty in the short half seconds when they’ve withdrawn. 

You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, limp as you have to rely on Kuroo and Akaashi gripping onto your waist, Bo and Kei still squeezing your fingers into a tight circle to fuck themselves into. It’s horribly lewd, and you barely feel like you have any support, but some part of you is aching for more of it, to be pushed even further.

The sugar was much needed in your system, even buzzing and sluggish as you are, the small burst of energy helps keep you from drifting into a semi-conscious state. It helps you move your hips, circling in a feeble attempt to do nothing more than take. 

Akaashi presses his face between your shoulder blades, panting heavily and dotting your spine with tiny kisses, his voice heavy and broken on certain syllables. “That’s it, love.” He kisses you again, punctuating his words with a branding press of his lips. “You’re doing so well, you feel so good.”  

The praise makes you lightheaded, your body trying to keep up with them, to move with them in the pursuit of something. You don’t think you can cum anymore, but it feels just good enough that you don’t want to stop. You’re disjointed, disconnected, your brain a solid ten paces behind your actions.

So when you lean to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the sticky tip of Kei’s cock, you don’t think much of it. But he moans, catches you by the back of your neck to keep you there, rubbing himself against your lips until you part them again and let him grind against the heat of your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, head falling back, his throat bobbing with a particularly dry swallow. 

You suckle gently on the very tip of him, swirling your tongue against the slick head and humming when the taste of him coats the inside of your mouth, and he trembles against you, letting out a noise so close to a plea that it makes your thighs clench. 

“Feels good.” You try to say, slurred and raspy. 

Kuroo makes an odd, breathy sort of laugh, bucking his hips into you once to disturb the languid pace you’re trying to set. “Does it?” He asks, tipping his face down to look at you, trying to catch you in a kiss despite the way Kei languidly grinds into your mouth. “How good, baby? How good are we making you feel?”  

Kei reluctantly allows him to pull you off of his cock, panting and flushed, twitching in your grasp. For a moment, he has to slow down, his hips barely moving while he lets himself fall away from the edge. Wordlessly, Bo reels him in for a kiss, and you’re once again surrounded on all sides, feeling almost suffocated as they wrap themselves around you, overlapping and intertwined. 

You whine, whatever feeble reply you’d been ready to offer Kuroo drowned out by the firm press of his lips. Plush and warm, it’s surprisingly chaste considering the horribly debauched way you feel. He kisses you like he loves you, like it’s just a distant moment where he’s caught you around the waist and is pulling you in for a good morning kiss. 

Not like he’s buried to the hilt inside of you alongside one of his best friends, like he hasn’t littered your body with fingerprint bruises and blooming burgundy hickeys. 

Then his tongue pries your lips apart, delving inside, and he moans at the taste of salt that lingers from having Kei in your mouth. He kisses you harder, licking into you shamelessly, clinging to your legs so tightly that you’re sure he’s only leaving more bruises. 

“Gonna–” You pant heavily, hips twitching, your eyes rolling back as every functioning muscle in your body tries to tense with anticipation, your toes curling and your fingers going slack, only held in place by the way Bo and Kei keep you fisted tight around them. 

“Yeah?” Bokuto coos, reaching in to cup your cheek with his free hand and pull you towards him, kissing you once to taste both Kei and Kuroo on your tongue, and then meeting Kuroo half-way in another frenzied kiss. Against his lips, he asks– “Gonna what, baby? Tell us what you need.” 

He’s getting needy himself, desperate to touch as many of you as possible at once, needing to be in contact with all of you. Bo likes to feel surrounded when he cums, likes having all of you nearby. His hips buck, cock throbbing against the tight squeeze of your fingers, but he slows whenever he gets too close, just like Kei is.

You hiss, tossing your head against his grip and turning towards Kuroo, panting heavy and trying to convey to him with your eyes what you’re trying to say. 

He groans at the sight of you, letting out a small wisp of breath between his teeth before he’s fucking you a little faster, brow pinched and his breath coming out in rough, shallow pants. “Come on, pretty.” He grits out, biting back a noise close to a whimper. “Come on, come on.”  

You choke on a whimper, mouthing at his jaw and trying to babble out a coherent sentence, slurred and sticky words catching on your tongue. “More.” You plead, wanting to move your hips faster but unable to muster the strength. “Please, Tetsurou, Keiji, please more.” 

Akaashi ghosts his lips just below your ear, voice barely a whisper. “Call him daddy, love.” He murmurs, loving despite the brutal slap of his hips against your ass, hands gentle as they push and pull on your waist. “Trust me, he’ll give you more.” 

You’re too far gone to even think twice about it, beyond embarrassment, beyond rational thinking. You lean forward, mouth to Kuroo’s ear, and beg for him once more. “Please, daddy? Pl–” 

“Shit! Fuck– shit!” His hips snap into you, hard and erratic without any sense of rhythm, and one of his hands grabs your face, slips to curl around your throat, though he barely applies any pressure. “Again.”  

It’s a demand, but he says it like a plea, voice ragged like he’s swallowed a mouthful of gravel. “Baby, say it again, call me daddy.”

You do, breathless and hoarse, and the way he throbs inside of you is unmistakable. He wrestles control of the pace from Keiji, the latter whom gives it up gladly in order to watch the way you unknowingly tear Kuroo apart. 

“Daddy!” You gasp, clawing at his back, nails raking down sweat-slicked skin until streaks of crimson follow, dotted faintly with blood that smears beneath your hands. “Please, please, m’close, daddy please.”  

His eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he ducks his head to suck impossibly dark marks into your skin, overlapping some of the hickeys Kei had left, uncaring that you’re overly raw and sensitive. “Again.” He rasps, watching with wild eyes as Akaashi’s mouth twists, brow pinched in an expression of agonizing need, the look of a man who’s on the edge and is trying everything to keep it together. 

Despite how hard he tries to keep himself in check, Kuroo cums first. Akaashi tries to slow down to let him ride it out, but is quickly deterred when you push back onto him with a whine, so he matches Kuroo thrust for thrust despite the way both of you squirm and cry out at the overwhelming stimulation. Kuroo chokes back a ragged sob and drops his face to your neck, squeezing you and dragging you by the hips onto his cock once, twice, only able to manage a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into you with a hoarse call of your name. 

It’s still so warm, hot and thick and even Akaashi moans against your back at the feeling, lips pressed tight to your sweaty skin to try and muffle the sound, but you can feel it vibrate through your spine. 

A strangled, high-pitched sound builds in Kuroo’s throat when he feels you cumming next, the silken squeeze of your cunt ripping a sharp gasp from his chest as it flutters around his sensitive cock. He sounds like he’s in pain when he moans against the sensitive skin of your throat, but he adjusts his hold on your waist and then helps Akaashi fuck you through it anyway. 

You’re sure that if they try to make you cum again, you’ll die, it’s too much and you’re not even confident you’ll survive this one. 

They cradle you as you fall apart, your consciousness splintering into fragments, your physical form completely dead weight as you flicker out of existence, like a shadow at the corner of your vision. It’s almost like you’re sleeping, numb to the way hands flitter over you and lift you to change your position. You’re moved easily, changed to their whims, malleable as you drift along the line of unconsciousness. 

A cool drip of water on your forehead brings you back, a finely textured cloth gently wiping down your face. 

“There we go.” Kuroo murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose and putting the rag aside. “Are you coming back to us now?” 

Your throat feels too dry for you to say anything in reply, slowly pulling yourself from the sticky grasp of whatever blackout had clung to you, blinking away the haze and trying to stretch out. 

But they’re still holding you, you’re still full to the brim, Kei keeps your slack hand pressed tight around his cock while he fucks into it, though Bokuto has released you in favor of sidling up to Kuroo and kissing him. You can’t move, but with the way your body screams in protest after even a brief attempt, you think it might be better for you that way. 

You can’t even find it in you to protest when, after Kuroo pulls out, Bo takes his place. He hooks an arm around your middle, taking on most of your weight easily and pressing the swollen head of his cock into you. Akaashi’s fingers find your clit, gentle and swirling around it to avoid stimulating you too much directly. It’s nice enough, and you find yourself rocking into it as much as Bokuto’s tight hold will allow. 

The stretch is a little more intense this time, but you’re mostly numb to it, the only feeling you get is the hard jolt of pleasure when one of them hits your sweet spot. 

Bo is surprisingly gentle considering usually he’s the one getting too excited, breaking you down to pieces and ruining you simply because he’s overzealous at the best of times. Thick arms hold you up with ease, giving Akaashi a little more freedom to move as well, to quicken his pace and to touch you like he wants. Hands skimming up your sides, cupping your breasts, free to explore the length of your body without having to support your weight at the same time. 

It’s a slow build, distant and barely noticeable, but you eventually begin to squirm when another orgasm creeps close. Impossibly, you make a strangled noise of want and roll your hips, even as part of you screams that one more is too much, it’ll definitely kill you, you can’t take anymore. 

“There’s no way.” Kuroo breathes, ragged and breathless, but he leans in to watch the way you begin to twitch, the way your lashes flutter as you blink away the welling of tears blurring your vision. “Again?” 

Your voice is essentially shot, little more than a dry rasp as you try to protest, try to ask for some form of relief, but you can’t quite get the words out. 

Akaashi lets out a soft, rough noise against your back, pressing down hard on your clit as his hips begin to stutter. Your voice pitches high, sharp, and he groans in something close to an apology. 

“I know, love.” He whispers, sounding almost regretful as he locks both of his arms around your waist, holding you tight when his pace starts to pick up. “I know, I’m sorry I– I can’t help it. ” 

It’s too much when he cums, the way he fucks into you well past the point of overstimulation. Bokuto slows down, but he doesn’t stop fully, pushing both of you beyond your limit, and Akaashi sobs into your back at how sensitive he begins to feel.

Too hot, and the sounds that spill from between your legs when they continue to shove their cocks into the wet, abused clench of your pussy make you want to cover your ears and drown it all out. You have no control over the way your muscles contract around them, tight and squeezing, and then slack, relaxed, allowing them to carve out a space inside of you even as a small, precious piece of you tries to fight it still. 

Akaashi buries his face into your neck, his voice raw and hoarse when he breathes your name, then Bo’s, a whisper of how good you feel sending a shiver of sweetness up your spine.

Then he’s choking back another sob, still thrusting into you even though he’s overstimulated, the hands roaming your body shaking as they squeeze and pet you, his skin faintly glimmering with sweat, and you’re sure if you could see his face then it would be the most unkempt version of Akaashi you’ve ever seen. 

But he doesn’t pull out, and Bo continues to fuck you both through it. 

You almost feel like you’re going to pass out again, your vision blacking out in brief flickers that leave you dazed. Enduring it is easier this way, but Kei will tap your cheeks occasionally, to gauge your attention and see if you can focus it enough to respond.

Your eyes snap to meet his every time, pupils blown wide in a clear indication that you’re still at least partially aware. 

Finally, Akaashi slips out, gasping, heaving for breath as he falls back on the bed, chest stuttering and his hips still thrusting weakly into the air, like his body instinctively searches for more pleasure even though he’s well past his limit. 

Then it’s just Bokuto, holding you tight over his lap and fucking himself into you, face tucked into your neck with his hands cradling your back. Your hand is still wrapped tightly around Kei’s cock, but he’s thrusting into it slowly now, dragging it out, and you swallow around nothing when he begins to move you, lifting you gently so he can slip into the space previously occupied by Akaashi. 

“Kei…” You try to plead, but Kuroo shushes you softly, and it’s only then you notice that he’d moved away from you. The bed dips beneath his weight as he crawls back to your side, helping hold you up so Kei can settle. 

“Just a little more, baby.” He murmurs, kissing you on the crown of your head. “So good, you’re doing so good, we’re almost done.”  

“Can’t–” You gasp, the sensitive walls of your quivering cunt clenching down when Kei slowly pushes his way inside. Bokuto groans softly at the feeling, thrusting a few times to rut against him while inside of you, and it’s enough to knock the words out of your mouth. 

“Can’t take anymore!” You wail, your nails dragging sharply over Bo’s shoulders, clinging because you feel so dangerously close to the brink of passing out that it makes your breath start to shallow out. They hold you steady, with Kei immediately crowding against your back and bending down to press his face into your neck, wrapping as much of himself around you as he can as though to keep you grounded. 

Bo slows down, though neither of them pull out of you. Akaashi crawls close to gather you into his arms, supporting the bulk of your weight as Bo releases you to allow him the embrace, though he does keep one hand resting against your hip.

“You’re doing so well, my love.” Akaashi murmurs into your hair, husky and breathless. “You’re so beautiful, you always take us so well, always so good for us.” 

You choke back a sob, shaking in his arms as he cradles you, lithe fingers stroking down your spine and his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple. You can still feel Bo and Kei inside of you, filling you, twitching against one another with muscles straining against the urge to keep fucking you. 

But they don’t. 

Kuroo gets you more water, colder water, and feeds you a few more truffles, brushing the hair from your face and wiping you down with a warm rag. It feels nice, the cloth is soft against your buzzing skin, and isn’t aggravating despite the way your entire body feels like it’s raw and oversensitive. 

When you can breathe again, they take turns kissing you. Slow, languid, velvet against your mouth while they each lick at the sweetness still lingering on your lips. 

Kei gives you more chocolate with his turn, the truffle half-melted on his tongue, a hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him. His cock twitches inside you when you lick into his mouth with a needy whine, and his grip on your waist tightens, but he still doesn’t move despite how he clearly wants to. 

Kuroo steals you next, fingers curling over the nape of your neck and dragging you in to seal his mouth over yours. He licks the rest of Kei’s molten truffle from your tongue shamelessly, swallowing your noise of protest and tilting your head back so he can kiss you just a little harder. It’s bruising, the roughest one he’s given you all night, and it leaves you a little dazed and swaying when he finally lets you go. 

In contrast, Bokuto is achingly gentle when his lips meet yours, his large hand curving around the side of your neck with his thumb gliding along your cheek. His mouth is a little cold, like he’d just taken a sip of water, and you lean into it, a soft sigh that spills out when he traces the plush of your bottom lip with his tongue. 

You’re lost in it, so you don’t notice when he starts to move, slowly rolling his hips in tiny circles that are barely noticeable. Kei squeezes you, makes a warning noise that you barely register, and then Bo is moving a little faster, a little deeper.

You whine in protest, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep until you can’t feel the ache in your bones anymore, but Akaashi turns you by your cheek to claim his kiss before you can complain. 

“Just a little more, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, pulling Kei into a kiss of his own, and you can feel the way his cock twitches lewdly inside you as a result. They don’t give you the chance to even try getting away, the slow back and forth rocking, pushing and pulling you from Kei to Bokuto. Their hands are light as they skim along your body, lips ghosting along your neck and your shoulders, leaving half-formed bruises that will darken even more by morning. 

You catch the flicker of pink as Kuroo’s tongue delves into Kei’s mouth, watching as the blonde’s brow furrows and his hips stutter into you, cock throbbing hard as he unconsciously picks up the pace. 

Akaashi finally gives you a moment to breathe, moving down to leave his own mark just above your collarbones, and you barely feel as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin, enough to make sure it will ache long after he’s done. 

Bo nudges against your jaw with a soft whine, breaths hard and fast as he tries to clear his throat enough to speak. “Baby.” He rasps, wobbly. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, can I stay inside you? Please? Please baby I wanna cum in you, feels so fucking good.” 

He groans then, hips hilting faster now, bruising and hard enough that Kei gives up entirely on moving and simply remains buried inside of you, the two of you forced to take what he gives. 

Kuroo snorts, reaching out and fisting a hand in Bo’s hair, pulling his head back with a grin. “What, you’re asking permission now?” He teases, rolling his hips into the hard muscle of the spiker’s thigh. “Cute, Kou. Gonna ask her to cuddle next?”

“Maybe.” He quips back, breathless but grinning, unperturbed by the taunt. “Have fun sleeping on the couch while I’m in here, all curled up and cozy.” 

Kei squeezes your hips, his chest pressed to your back as he leans over you, sweaty and trembling. Your head tilts, baring your throat for the gentle press of his lips, the faint bite of teeth when they scrape over your skin. The bickering is drowned out by the heavy pants skimming over your ear, the soft whimpers that wouldn’t be audible if you were just a few inches away. His arms tighten around you, fully wrapped around your waist to crush you against his chest, and you know that he’s getting close too. 

“Gentle.” You try to say, try to remind them, but the word comes out odd, more of a drawn out syllable that ends on a hiccup when Bokuto fucks you harder. 

Too much.  

When he cums, he yanks both you and Kei as close as possible, thick arms wrapped around you to hold you against him while he bullies his cock into you relentlessly, your body limp in his grasp and slumped over his chest. The change in angle makes you sob, a gritty noise that feels like sand caught at the back of your tongue, and he makes a tortured sound as if to echo you, tucking his face into your hair as if that will muffle how he moans and gasps while emptying himself into your abused cunt. 

Then Kei is leaning back, propped up against Kuroo’s chest with the latter’s arms draped over his shoulders. You go with him, gravity keeping you in place as Bo helps move you on your back, and then it’s just Kei inside of you. 

Gentle fingers find your clit, but it doesn’t feel good anymore, it just burns. You try to push them away, but your hands won’t listen, twitching listlessly where they’d fallen at your sides. 

“I’m sorry.” Kei breathes, shaking as Kuroo encourages him to move faster, pushing his hips forward to keep him fucking into you. “Feels so good, I can’t–” His voice cracks, pitches high, and then he’s curling forward into you, gasping into your neck and grabbing at your hips to yank you back onto his twitching cock. 

Weakly, impossibly, you try to crawl away, try to pull off of him, but it feels like you’re beneath those weighted blankets again, the air heavy enough to pin you down while Kei uses you to finish himself off. Thick, liquid heat spills into you once more, stuffed too full, feeling it drip out of you onto the sheets, smeared along your inner thighs and your stomach, wet and sticky and cooling rapidly in the chilly air of your apartment. Kei holds you to him, arms wrapped fully around your waist to hold you while he rides it out, with Kuroo stroking the hair from his face and smoothing a hand over your hip to help you both on the way down from your spiral. 

The sound is awful as he pulls out, and yet you can’t even find the presence of mind to be embarrassed, you’re sure that you’re only seconds away from slipping into a coma anyway so it hardly matters now. 

Akaashi holds you close, murmuring into your ear as he gathers you in his arms and lifts you off the bed. Apologies, mostly, because you whine with pain when he moves you, and more so when he starts to walk with you. 

Bokuto leaves the room, and Kuroo joins Akaashi in checking you over, fingertips skimming over your sensitive skin, tracing the outlines of bite marks and bruises. They fuss over you, no longer offering sugary kisses and sweet praise, they examine you with a fine tuned familiarity built up over years of aftercare, knowing when to offer sweetness and when to give you the essentials instead. 

Kei, after taking a minute or so to recover, begins changing your sheets while they’re busy with you, though he’s quicker to get dressed than any of you are. He’s come back to himself, a little, now more aware and no longer immersed in his own subspace, but his eyes still soften when they catch yours from across the room, the stoic facade melting. 

“Hey, pretty girl. Still with us?” Kuroo cups your cheek gently, patting it until your eyes move to focus on him instead. 

You hum, a vaguely affirmative sort of sound, and Akaashi sighs with tepid relief, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. 

When Bo comes back into the room, you’re transferred into his arms despite your delirious protests. He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the sink, cupping the back of your head to lean it against the mirror, then he rocks back on his heels to look at you. 

You can only imagine how you look now, in the light, completely bare. You’d expect him to look disgusted, almost, finally seeing how thoroughly wrecked you’ve become. 

Instead, he sighs, hands on your hips as he dips down to kiss you reverently, murmuring into the space between your lips in a meltingly sweet whisper. “We’re so damn lucky, y’know.” 

He takes a few moments to just kiss you, soft little pushes of his lips against yours, moving like warm satin when you tip your face from one side to the other, guided by his hand. “So pretty like this, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

You bask in his praise for a moment, preening as he kisses you between each little compliment, but then Kei steps through the door into the bathroom and brushes past you, though he does stop long enough to give you both a kiss at Bo’s insistence. 

Rough hands slip beneath your thighs, and you only have a second to even think about bracing before Bokuto hoists you up and jostles you to make sure you’re sturdy in his arms. The abruptness of it makes you whimper, though, sore muscles protesting the careless movement. He winces, brushing his nose against yours in a quiet apology. 

“Be careful, Koutarou.” Kei sighs, setting down a cold water bottle on the sink and opening the cabinet that has all of your soaps. “Let me do it, go find a brush for her hair.” 

Bo pouts, squeezing you gently and pressing his cheek against your forehead, you can almost picture the dramatic expression he must be making. “No way, bathtime is the best part. You go get her brush, it’s in the nightstand on Kuroo’s side of the bed.” 

Idly, you wonder what the fuck Kuroo was doing using your brush, but the thought is a fleeting one. 

You lift your head, trying to turn to see where Kei is standing, but you quickly feel the heat of him at your back as he comes to stand behind you. His arms loop around your middle, though Bo still carries most of your weight. You melt against him, his lips at your shoulder and his hands rubbing soothing circles into some of your sore muscles, you can’t help yourself.

“Then be more careful, she’s already sore. We don’t need you making it worse, you brute.” He mutters the last part under his breath, muffling the insult by pressing a kiss to the space just below your ear. 

Bokuto bristles, a deep-set frown etched into his face. “What was that? Weren’t calling me a brute when I was balls deep in–”

Akaashi’s calm, cool voice cuts through the rising volume of the argument. “The bath is getting cold.” 

Frigid silence, both men tensing sharply even though Akaashi physically does not pose much of a threat. Kei ducks his head, slipping out of the bathroom with a muttered apology, and Bokuto quietly carries you to the hot tub of water beckoning you from the corner. It burns, at first, stinging your skin and making you squirm with discomfort as he lowers you into it, but it fades quickly and then, when you’re fully submerged with your head lolling against the rim, you think you might be dangerously close to passing out like this. He crouches down beside you, knees knocking against porcelain in his efforts to be as near to you as possible while you soak. 

It smells a little like tea tree, but softer, and the water has a green tint, something mixed in that has your skin tingling pleasantly. It’s opaque, murky with what you suspect to be a mixture of milk and honey. You already feel a little more supple to the touch, and you make a low, pleased hum as you sink into it with a drawn out exhale. 

Kei reenters the bathroom quietly, stopping briefly to accept the comforting kiss Akaashi offers before coming to join Bo, though he sits on the edge of the tub beside you instead of staying on the floor. He pulls your hair out from beneath your head and cups handfuls of water to pour over your scalp, careful to make sure it doesn’t get in your eyes, and he passes your brush to Bo in a silent peace offering. 

It’s accepted with a wide, beaming smile, practiced hands separating your damp hair to begin brushing it out, painstakingly slow. This is the most gentle Bokuto is with you, when he’s handling your hair or your body after a sore scene. Despite his tendency to be almost exceedingly overzealous, he treats you like you’re made of something even finer than gold afterwards. 

“She wanted pizza after this, right?” Kuroo calls from down the hall, though his voice gradually grows louder as he moves closer to the bathroom. “I thought she wrote her order down for us, but I can’t find the sticky note.” 

“She asked for fried chicken instead, and Kei put the note on top of the fridge because she kept trying to change things and he didn’t want her messing the order up.” Akaashi tips his face unconsciously as Kuroo stops by the door for a quick kiss, leaning into it with a soft sigh that Kuroo echoes with a smile. 

Before leaving, he stops when he sees you sprawled in the tub, a quick, inquisitive glance scanning you over. 

“I turned on the heating pad, so it’ll be warm by the time she’s ready for bed.” He leans against Akaashi with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him steady. While you and Kei are clearly the more fucked out of the bunch, nobody came out of it completely unscathed. “Fucking hell, look at her legs. Was that all me?” 

Bo laughs, almost a bark of a sound, and your brow pinches once at the sharpness of it. “Who else? You’re the only one who gets that crazy with your teeth!” He sets your brush aside, picking up one of your shampoo bottles next and inspecting the label. 

Deeming it acceptable, he squirts some of the floral scented peach soap into Kei’s waiting hand. 

Kei kisses your forehead in apology, even though you’re both used to Kuroo and Bo’s loud banter by now. His fingers scrub your lathered soap into your scalp, gentle circles that would make you purr if you were a little more coherent. Still, you push your head into his hands in encouragement, undeterred and shameless even when he clicks his tongue at your impatience. 

Kuroo comes a little closer, crouching down by the side of the tub and reaching out for your hand, kissing the back of it sweetly. “You coming out of it, pretty?” He asks, lips still lightly pressed against your knuckles. 

You hum, and that’s enough of an answer for them. 

“She’s answering us, at least.” Bo retakes his spot once Kuroo leaves to go order your dinner, a new bottle in hand as he’s lathering himself practically up to the elbows with some of your body wash. “That means she’ll probably be awake soon.” 

Kei scoffs a little, rinsing out your hair with warm water. “She’s already awake.” 

“You know what I mean!” 

Akaashi presses a hand to his forehead and tries to wave off the looming headache creeping in, eyes half-narrowed as he debates on kicking the two of them out of the bathroom. 

Unfortunately, he knows Bo wouldn’t be willing to leave. Kei could be persuaded, but he’d be incredibly grumpy for the rest of the night. Kuroo is usually the only reasonable one, but even then it’s a 50/50 chance of whether or not he’ll just choose to be difficult. 

Warm hands lathered thick with soap press down on your neck, rubbing gently over your pulse before sliding down your shoulders. It’s more of a massage than a means to clean you, but it feels nice, and Bo is careful whenever his fingers glide over bruises or sore spots. He kneads out some of the tension in your shoulders, the juncture where they meet your neck, slippery fingers ghosting down between your breasts in a touch that is far from sexual. It’s intimate, how he handles you, parting your thighs and rubbing wide circles on the insides to chase away the lingering ache from how far wide your legs had been spread for hours. 

Kei scrunches some conditioner into your hair, the scent of peaches and rose water a subtle contrast to the sharpness of tea tree. Your head tilts back, lips parted as if to speak up and call for his attention, but no words come out. He pauses when he sees you trying to talk, brows dipping low with something akin to thinly veiled concern. 

You try to gently clear your throat, but it feels like your vocal cords are made of gravel, and you’re still a little far in the back of your head. Slow flickers of clarity are coming back to you, but words are still out of your reach apparently. 

He nods once in a show of understanding, cupping the back of your head to keep it from hitting the tub as he bends down to kiss you. Akaashi comes closer, snagging the bottle of water Kei had set down and unscrewing the cap so he can hold it out for you. Before you can attempt to reach for it with an arm that feels about a hundred pounds too heavy, he’s overlapping his hand with Kei’s at the nape of your neck and tipping the bottle against your lips so you can drink.

It’s deliciously cold, and flavored faintly with lemon, soothing the ache in your raw throat a little more with every swallow. The bright flavor of the citrus helps wake you up, and you’re able to hold your own head up to finish the bottle. Akaashi sets the empty plastic container aside, then presses a kiss to your cold lips with a soft smile. 

Kei leaves to get a towel from the dryer while Bokuto rinses out your hair, knowing that Kuroo would have already thrown a few in for a cycle to keep them nice and warm for when you finished with your bath. Everyone moves in sync, in tandem with each other while you’re struggling to even remember how to function like a semi-human. 

You begin to come back to yourself, slowly, though it still feels like everything is wrapped in thick, sticky layers of tar or molasses. You’re a little more aware by the time Akaashi helps you out of the tub, when Kei wraps you in a warm, soft towel that doesn’t irritate your skin. 

Bokuto picks you up, mindful of before when he’d lifted you without preamble. He cradles you, pressing little kisses to your wet hair while carrying you into the living room where Kuroo is waiting leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are definitely not his. A frown mars his face, kiss-swollen lips pursed like a pout, one that melts the moment he looks up to see you all filing into the open space.

“Hey, pretty.” He holds his arms out for you, ignoring Bo’s little whine as he gathers you to his chest, though the latter almost doesn’t let go until Akaashi hip checks him on the way into the kitchen. He buries his face in your wet hair, inhaling deep and then kissing you on the top of your head. “You look a little more here now , can you talk to us yet?” 

You lick your lips, blinking through the lingering film of your high and the remnants of your subspace, but when you try to reach for a response, you find that your mouth still isn’t quite cooperating. Closer, but not there yet. 

So you shake your head, which is at least enough to let them know that you’re cognizant. 

Bokuto goes into the kitchen while Kuroo carries you to the couch, laying you down and tucking a pillow beneath your head. Kei drapes a blanket over you, Akaashi brings your bottle of water and sets it on the floor beside you, and then the three of them are settling down on the floor in a little half circle in front of you. 

There’s a hand in your hair, just petting, fingertips that feather over the features of your face, the bruises on your legs poking out from beneath the cover, smoothing you over now that you’re laid out and they can look at you. You try to keep your eyes from falling shut, trying to clear away what little of the fog you can differentiate from your high. You’re gone for the rest of the night for sure, but if you can crawl out of your subspace then at least you can communicate with them.

They worry more on the nights where you fall asleep before fully coming out of it, and you can tell by the way they hover that they’re dangerously close to that line. Three sets of eyes are on you, almost unblinking, intense, taking in the damage that they’ve done to you throughout the night. 

“Creepy.” 

It slips out before you can even register it, a knee-jerk reaction that is too strong for even your recovering lungs to keep down. Hoarse, barely audible, little more than rasp and a pinch of your voice, but loud enough that they hear it.

Kuroo barks out an ugly, wheezing laugh that makes Kei grimace, his hand coming down sharply to slap against his knee as he cackles. 

“I can’t believe that’s the first thing you say to us!” He’s grinning, bright and relieved , bracing his elbow against his knee so he can rest his mouth against his hand, obscuring the wide smile he can’t quite stifle. “I’m paying for your dinner, and this is the thanks I get?”  

Akaashi looks significantly more displeased, unamused even when you stretch your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers to get his attention. It reminds him eerily of earlier, when you had been trying to get him to stop frowning at you for wanting to take three gummies at the start of the movie. 

He takes your hand, curling your fingers into his palm and pressing a light kiss against your knuckles, then pressing them into his cheek with a soft, placated sigh. “You’re bad for my health.” He murmurs, completely serious despite it being a blatant lie. 

“Foods almost here!” Bo calls from down the hallway, and Kei gets up with a drawn out, pained groan to wait by the door. 

Before he can leave, you try to call for him, though your voice cracks on the single syllable of his name. He hears you still, and stops, crouching back down beside you and brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are soft, molten gold that glimmers when he looks down at you. “Hm?” 

“Kiss.” 

His laughter is soft and sweet, and his hands are warm when he cups your face and brings you in for a kiss. It’s chaste and gentle, the faintest pressure against your lips, mindful of how swollen and sore they’ve become. 

Sometimes it’s easy to forget how sweet Kei is, when he’s not trying to appear unaffected and distant from everything. He’s always softer when he thinks you won’t remember. 

Akaashi crawls onto the couch with you, and you roll onto your back to accommodate him as he sprawls himself over you. Tucking his face into your neck, his hands slipping beneath your back, your legs parting around the width of him as he settles between them. Warm, his weight is a comfort that helps keep you grounded as you climb out of your own head. The blanket is forgotten on the floor, though you’re sure if you get cold later someone will throw it over you.

“I got extra biscuits–Bokuto you are not allowed to touch more than one box, got it?” Kuroo sets his phone aside and gets up when Kei comes back in with several boxes in his arms, and Bo is quick to join them. Akaashi stays cuddled up with you, rubbing your back, nuzzling into your neck and whispering into your skin about how good you are, how sweet, how much he loves you. 

He always brings you back like this, talking you into coherence, wanting to make sure some of the first things you hear when you can process words again are praise and affirmations. While the others get the food set up, he’s slowly coaxing you back into full sentience. 

It’s his favorite part, so they tend to let him be the one to do it most often, just like Bo gets to handle bath time. 

When you look down at him, blinking slowly, and he sees the first real flicker of comprehension on your face, he smiles. 

“Welcome back.” He murmurs, propping himself up on his elbows so he can lean over you, watching as awareness washes over you, crystal-clear, and then you’re smiling up at him. 

“Thanks, Keiji.” You meet him half-way when he dips down to kiss you, tangling your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tugging, pulling him closer until his weight is fully settled over you again. He sighs against you, like he’s finally able to relax, tension draining away the more kisses you give him. “Miss me that much?” 

“Don’t push it.” He breathes, but he’s smiling against your lips and he makes no effort to hide it. “Do you think you can eat?”

“I could eat literally an entire bucket of chicken by myself.” 

His body trembles with his silent laughter, and then he’s up, moving to help you off of the couch while you clutch at the folds of your towel to keep it from slipping. 

Bokuto beams when he sees you walking on your own, immediately sweeping over with all the intensity of a storm as he picks you up. You yelp, locking your legs tight around his waist and then wincing when it sends a sharp stab of pain through your hips.

Kuroo thwacks him on the back, frowning. “Oi, frosty, you’re gonna be banned from hug privileges during aftercare if you can’t be careful.” 

Kei chimes in. “That’s the second time tonight.” 

“Snitch!” You gasp, snickering shamelessly when he shoots you a sharp glare, though the intensity of it is lessened by the way he instinctively seems to gravitate towards you, already moving from his spot against the counter to approach you and Bo. Waiting patiently, Bokuto holds you steady when Kei leans over to kiss you, pretty hands cupping your jaw to tilt your face how he wants.

“Bokuto…” Akaashi sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and stopping at the entryway into the kitchen, brow cocked and lips thinned with displeasure. “You know to be careful with her.”

Even though Bokuto is both taller and larger than Akaashi, he still seems to shrink beneath the force of that unamused, deadpan stare. Slowly, he puts you down, and Kei helps steady you when you’re on your own two feet again. 

“I’m alright, guys.” You reach across the counter to pluck a biscuit from one of the boxes, though you find your body still doesn’t want to cooperate with you. Akaashi moves the box closer, and accepts the little kiss you press to his lips with a smile. “The worst of it will be tomorrow, you can rag on him a little if he’s still not careful then. Okay?”

Bo pouts, leaning into your back and pressing his cheek against yours, arms winding around your waist as he hunches over you. “I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” He’s genuinely remorseful, regretful, even when he’s playing rough with you it’s clear he doesn’t like causing you pain. 

You tilt your head to the side, kissing him loudly on his rosy cheek before returning to your biscuit. “It’s okay, I’m not the one you’re gonna have to deal with if you make it to three strikes though.” Your smile is cheeky, playful when you feel him tense behind you.

You, Kei, and Bo turn in sync to look at Kuroo, whose hip is propped against the counter, arms folded over his chest while he watches you three. When he sees you looking at him, his grin slants into a smirk, a crooked stretch across his face that you know means trouble. 

“Who, me?” He purrs, pushing off of the counter and stalking towards you, slowly, one hand catching Bo by the chin to pull him along as he steps into your space. “You make it sound like I’m the executioner in this relationship.” 

You lean into him when he ducks down towards you, the bridge of his nose ghosting over yours. He crowds you against the counter, savoring the warmth of your lips on his when he steals a kiss. 

He presses as much of his body against you as he can, every hard edge met with a soft, plush curve, and he groans into your mouth even though surely he should be sated by now. His hands cup your jaw, thumb absentmindedly swiping away a lingering biscuit crumb from your cheek while he curves his body around yours, almost protectively, possessively. 

You indulge him for as long as you can, but you’re starving.  

“Has everyone gotten their fill?” You ask, though Kuroo doesn’t let you pull away far enough to speak properly, kissing you through your question despite how you try to squirm away. “I will literally die if I don’t eat–Tetsurou! Quit it!”

He laughs when you shove him away, sneaking one more kiss before you can properly fend him off and then sauntering back to his previous position to check his phone. It’s impossible to keep him from work for too long, but he’s taking the entire day off tomorrow so you’ll let him get away with it this time. 

Akaashi passes you a plate, allowing you to pick through the spread on the countertop to get what you want first. Kuroo must have ordered more than you asked for, extra boxes of biscuits and all of the sides, even an extra bucket of chicken that you’re sure won’t last as long as he thinks it will. Not with you and Bokuto in the same apartment, especially not with weed in the picture.  

They hover over you while you fill up your plate, never letting you move more than a few inches away from any one of them at a time, in case your legs give out or you can’t keep yourself up. You appreciate that they let you have your independence during this, sometimes the full coddling aftercare is nice, but usually it helps you come out of your subspace a little easier if you can do smaller things for yourself. 

Still, the scene was rougher than you anticipated, and the three edibles were definitely more than you planned for. Your body is still trembling, legs weak and threatening to collapse beneath your weight at any second, so you try to use the counter for support to make it at least a little more bearable.  

Akaashi rests a hand at the base of your spine when you begin to sway, and Kei catches you against his chest the moment your legs buckle. You groan quietly and let yourself slump into him, the warmth of his hands at the back of your head and between your shoulder blades a comfort. Akaashi comes closer, sandwiching you between the warmth of their bodies to keep you from falling. 

“Do you need us to do it?” He asks, voice soft as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He won’t push, not if you really want to do it on your own, but you can tell he’s hoping you’ll say yes. 

Or, you thought that was the case. 

Cool fingers take you by the chin and guide you in for a chaste kiss, something simple and soothing that takes care not to irritate your sore mouth. You lean into it with a soft, breathy murmur, but before you can fully reciprocate your plate is being taken from your hands while Akaashi holds you in his arms, keeping you pressed tight against him while Kei carries your dinner over to the coffee table in front of the TV. 

“What’s the point in asking if you aren’t gonna wait for an answer?” You huff, all false petulance and snark as you let him kiss you again, still greedy even though you thought he’d had enough of you throughout the night. 

Silly of you to think that any one of them will ever have enough of you. 

“A distraction.” He murmurs, completely without shame, between kisses. 

“You’re insatiable, Keiji.” Kuroo teases, breezing by with a hand ghosting over your arm, fingers trailing from yours to Akaashi’s. “We’ll have time for this tomorrow, though. She does need to eat.” 

It’s not often that Akaashi is the one who has to be, even if gently, reprimanded. His face burns with embarrassment, a rare and pleasant sight, and you find yourself grinning as you hold his cheeks in your hands to keep him from hiding it from you. 

For once, Bokuto is the responsible one. He gently steers you both by the shoulders into the living room, where Kuroo has already set out a few cold water bottles and some freshly dried blankets that are warm, fluffy and inviting. 

“Are we gonna finish the movie from earlier?” You ask, stopping at Kuroo’s side to give him a grateful kiss that he accepts with a lazy smile, a hand at your hip to keep you steady before he allows Bo to help you sit down. 

You’re tucked in quickly, a blanket draped over your lap, a towel, then your plate of chicken. Bokuto beams at you, crouched down so he’s at eye-level while he runs the ridge of his knuckles up and down your cheek. His eyes are half-lidded, a pretty flush on his cheeks with a dopey little smile curling at his lips. Lost in it, he doesn’t notice that the others have already begun filling their plates when usually he’d be first in line. It’s almost embarrassing, the way they dote on you, but every gesture carries with it a sense of urgency, the need to take care of you, familiar and practically a well-oiled machine at this point. 

He leans forward and brushes a kiss over your forehead, then lower to kiss your eyelids next, unable to hide his smile when your lashes flutter in surprise at the feeling. It’s the most meticulous you see him outside of the gym or the court, the careful way he maps out the features of your face with his lips, almost ritualistic in his need to do it after every scene. 

You’ve all learned how to take care of each other, and sometimes they know what you need even before you do, so you let yourself melt into him and even reciprocate a few of his kisses when you can tilt your face in time to catch his lips with your own.

He loves when you do that, but he does reluctantly part from you when Kei touches his back in a wordless signal that it’s his turn to get his food. 

“Do you want to finish it? We could try something else, you weren’t really paying attention earlier so we could just restart it and watch from the beginning.” Kuroo leans over your shoulder from behind the couch, straightening your blanket so the towel covers most of it while you’re eating in case you make a mess. Normally, if you did, they’d tease you. 

But your arms feel like they’re made of jelly and, while your mind is a little more clear now that you aren’t in a subspace, the edible is still going strong. No more teasing tonight, not of that variety anyway. He presses a quick kiss to your temple as he withdraws, though he does pause to give Kei one as well when the latter tucks himself in at your side.

Kei, surprisingly, leans into it, letting his head fall back just in time to catch the kiss with his mouth instead of his cheek. There’s a soft, pleased murmur, and then Kuroo is cupping his jaw with a large hand and deepening the kiss. They melt into it, into each other, with Kuroo bowed low over the back of the couch just so he can reach and Kei craning his head back despite the awkward angle. 

You soften, subdued and tired, and watch with something fluttery and buzzy blooming in your chest. Bokuto settles in on your other side, a bowl of everything thrown haphazardly together with a biscuit stuffed into his mouth. He smiles at you around it, or tries to, and the silly sight makes you feel warm, protected, it takes everything you have to keep eating and not just drift to sleep right there surrounded by the comfort of your loved ones.

Akaashi comes to sit on the other side of Kei, though he pauses in passing to give both you and Bo a sweet, slow kiss. Unhurried, he takes his time, his cold hands cupping your cheeks with his thumbs feathering over your cheekbones. There’s no lust behind it, nothing more than overwhelming affection that you can taste on your lips like sugar.

The move is rewound to play from the beginning, four bodies curled in together on one couch as your fifth takes his time picking through the spread to find what he wants to eat. Kuroo isn’t the biggest fan of junk food, but after all of the calories you burned even he isn’t going to argue that shitty takeout will hit the spot better than anything else. 

Still, you can hear him grumbling to himself like an old man as he reluctantly fills his plate with greasy chicken and fried potatoes on the side, you’re already dreading the micromanaging of your meals tomorrow. 

Always on the same wavelength, Bo nudges your side and ducks down to whisper, comically loud with a glitter of mischief in his eyes. “I bet Tetsu is gonna feed you nothin’ but green stuff tomorrow, wanna sneak out for some pizza during lunch?” 

You can almost hear the sound of Kuroo’s neck snapping as he whips around to face you, but you’re both steadfastly stuffing your mouths with biscuits to avoid questions, eyes innocently locked into the TV screen as though Bokuto hadn’t spoken up at all. Kei nearly chokes on his laughter, the only indication that Kuroo hadn’t just been hearing things. 

Even when it’s accidentally, he’s a snitch. Akaashi sighs, long and exasperated, but if you were to look at his face you’d find him smiling. 

Kuroo finally joins you, settling once more on the ground between your legs so he can stay close without having to squeeze himself in whatever little space would be available with four of you crammed onto one couch. 

With everyone settled and quiet, relaxed, you can focus on the movie and finishing your food. You have to eat slowly, your arms a little late to respond when you try to move, but it’s not impossible as long as you take care not to rush. 

Everything is greasy, salty, and you’re definitely going into a food coma the moment you get into bed, but after the workout you just endured it feels like the best meal you’ve ever had. Kei shares his sides with you after you finish yours, even though Bokuto tries to insist that he eat all of it because he never seems to eat enough, and Kuroo gets up to refill your plate with your favorites before you can even ask. 

You can’t help feeling incredibly lucky, right now. Listening to them banter, bicker, trying not to laugh as Kuroo complains about different aspects of the movie that he doesn’t like, then unable to hold the laughter back when Akaashi counters all of his points with a carefully controlled monotone. One of the quickest ways to piss Kuroo off. 

You drift, comfortable, sore but sated and now with significantly more salt in your system. While good at the time, now you’re craving something disgustingly sweet.

“Do we still have any ice cream?” You ask, voice still a little hoarse, cracking both from disuse and overuse at the same time. Kei passes you your water bottle, the condensation chilling the tips of his fingers, and you gently brush your nose against his in lieu of making him endure a greasy kiss as thanks. 

He returns the gesture gratefully.  

“We got some of your favorites earlier when Keiji went to the grocery store.” Kuroo tilts his head back, resting it atop your thighs so he can look at you.  “There’s a sale going on though, so if you want then tomorrow we’ll have Kou pick up more on his way home.” 

Your lips purse, fingers itching to work their way into his hair and play with it, but not wanting to touch him before you’ve had the chance to wash your hands. His lips twitch, corners curling into half a grin before he stifles it

Bo perks up, bumping his shoulder into you gently and giving you a sweet smile. “I could stop by that cat cafe to get you a coffee too, they have those cute little cups that you and Tetsu like.” 

You perk up, recalling the little latte he’d brought back after practice one day. “Can I have one of those cat shaped marshmallows in it? The pink ones.” You muster up the strongest puppy eyes you can manage, even knowing that there’s no way he would deny you, it’s more for dramatic effect and because Bo gets insane cute aggression, you like watching him agonize over fighting back the urge to squish you into his arms.

As expected, his brow furrows strongly, lips pressed thin as his fingers curl into fists. Though he looks angry, it melts away as he dips forward to kiss you on the mouth, loudly, completely unperturbed by the mess. “C’mon, I can do better than that. I’ll get you at least two.”

“And one of their white chocolate caramel cookies?” This time when you give him the puppy eyes, Bokuto breaks. He squeezes you by the cheeks and drags you in for a much louder kiss, smacking your lips together while cooing about how cute you are, refusing to let you pull away even when you’re cackling with raspy laughter and trying to pry his hands away from your face. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is gentle, but still cool enough that you stop roughhousing. You’ll regret it tomorrow, sure, but as you and Bo sit and giggle beside each other, sharing smiles with his arm wrapping around your shoulders, you can’t find it in you to think it isn’t worth it. You love moments like these, the domesticity, knowing that in a few years there’s a chance you look back and reminisce on it all with your loved ones fondly. 

Bo pulls you gently back against his chest, and you don’t protest when Akaashi gets up to take your plate into the kitchen, coming back just long enough to clean off your hands and give the four of you kisses before he’s returning to start washing the dishes. You can feel yourself drifting again, physical fatigue and the edibles both trying to drag you deep into slumber, worse now that you’re full and satiated on multiple levels. It’d be easier if you weren’t still in your wet towel, you’re sure you would have already fallen asleep by now if you were wearing something warm and dry.

Akaashi probably did that intentionally, wanting to keep you awake until they could get you into bed. 

“Hey, pretty.” Kuroo twists around so he’s on his knees, warm hands resting against your thighs where he taps his fingertips to get your attention. The position makes your cheeks warm up, that grinning face peering up at you from between your legs, self assured and still somehow sweet. “This look familiar?” He teases, but his voice is soft, and his arms loop around your waist for leverage as he scoots a little closer. 

You groan softly, planting your hand against his forehead to try and keep him at bay, but he’s undeterred. “Tetsurou I am so tired, please don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.”

He softens, melts, resting his head on your lap and squeezing you gently. “Just wanna hold you a little, that’s all.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises littering your thighs. “Tsukki was greedy tonight, I barely got to see you.” 

Kei scoffs, petulant, but you simply hum and run your fingers through Kuroo’s hair, brushing it out of his face and watching as he becomes molten against you, languid and content now that you’re aware and willfully touching him again. 

He doesn’t like to show it, though he’s getting better at letting himself be vulnerable with you, but as much as he likes the more intense scenes you experiment with, they sometimes make him feel a little on edge afterwards. He likes when you want to touch him, and it often seems that your aftercare is as much for him as it is for you. Kuroo and Akaashi more than any of them need the reminder and reassurances that you love them after harcore play like this. 

“Do you wanna go lay down? We can cuddle and get all cozy since Kei changed the sheets for us.” You tip forward to brush your lips over his forehead, but he lifts himself just in time to catch you in a proper kiss instead. 

“Yeah.” He breathes, putting just enough distance between you that he can rest his forehead against yours. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

Kei taps his fingertips over your knee, dappling the sensitive skin there until you turn your attention towards him, your brow cocked high and your lips pressed thin to hide your smile. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on your own tonight?” He asks, palm flat over your thigh and warm against your cool skin. He toys with the edge of your towel and pushes it up, slowly, half a smirk playing with his lips when you shiver at his touch. 

You shake your head, fingers buried thick in Kuroo’s hair, scratching until the man is groaning softly against your thighs and clinging to your waist, unperturbed even as you lean to rest your head on Kei’s shoulder. “No, I wanna sleep with you guys, don’t wanna wake up alone either.” 

He tilts his face down to brush a kiss into your hair, murmuring softly in understanding. His other hand joins yours in petting Kuroo, slow as his nails circle over the nape of his neck. 

“Nobody said it was my turn to be spoiled.” Kuroo tries for cheeky, all velvety confidence and snark, but it’s tempered by his softness and the lovey glow that surrounds him. His eyes are molten whiskey and his face is a little flushed, brows drawn tight together in a look of content adoration. 

“But you were so good to me tonight, Tetsurou.” You murmur, dropping your hand to cup his cheek, feathering your thumb over his lips and biting back a silky sigh when they part at your touch. “Only feels right that I love on you a little after all that.” 

He lets out an odd sort of chuckle, almost sheepish, blushing beautifully beneath your praise like he’s still somehow unaccustomed to it after all this time. 

“Last one to bed has to straighten all the blankets!” Bokuto gives you approximately a single breath’s worth of time for processing before he’s zipping down the hallway, surprisingly nimble despite his size. Akaashi is still standing in the kitchen, drying towel in hand, with a single brow twitching in thinly veiled exasperation. 

He softens when he catches sight of you, however, eyes lingering on Kuroo’s head on your lap and yours and Kei’s hands in his hair. 

“Go to bed, loves.” He hums, crossing his arms low over his chest and leaning against the counter. “I’ll finish up here, it won’t take me too long.” 

Kei shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your temple and ruffling Kuroo’s hair before standing up. “No, I’ll help. We should pack something for Koutarou’s lunch tomorrow anyway. He’ll forget.” 

You watch as he joins Akaashi in the kitchen, a blissful smile toying at your lips as you bask in the warmth of your little family. Kuroo moves, then, getting to his feet with a tired groan that morphs into a hiss when his joints begin to pop and crack.

“Gettin’ old on us, Tetsurou?” You tease, giggling and pulling your legs out of his reach when he tries to playfully swat at them. His arms find their way home around the bend of your waist, lifting you against him until you’re standing fully upright and letting him support your weight.

“I was old twenty years ago.” He huffs, dropping down to hook one of his arms behind your knees, gently gathering you against his chest before taking you into the hallway. 

Bokuto is already waiting for you in your bed, tucked beneath the covers and snuggled into Akaashi’s pillow. He brightens at the sight of you, arms stretched wide for you and Kuroo to fall into. 

So you do, Kuroo’s weight heavy against your back as he presses you between his body and Bo’s, the two smothering you with kisses and wandering hands that soothe your aches and help you melt against them. 

You almost whine when Kuroo presses his hand between your legs, fingers curling gently over your sex, but he doesn’t do more than that, just giving you a simple pressure to ease some of the pain. Bo’s hand glides along the plush of your thigh, the other curled up in the sliver of space between your bodies, where his fingers hook around yours. 

“Gonna miss you guys tomorrow.” His voice is soft, uncharacteristically small.

Your eyes flutter open, mirth spilling into your gaze when you look up to see Bo pouting, worry shining clear as a sunray across his face. 

Your chin lifts, and he’s quick to meet you half-way, lips softened and plush with some of Akaash’s balm. Against his mouth, you murmur– “We’ll miss you too, Kou, but you have a game soon and can’t afford to miss practice. Do you wanna video call during your lunch break so we can all eat together?” 

He brightens, lips curving into a smile that you can feel against your own. Kuroo pushes against you gently, scooting just a bit closer, and then the mattress dips between another body’s weight. Kei, stopping at your bedside just long enough to check on you. 

When a warm, tentative hand reaches across Kuroo to brush over your thigh, you hum into Bo’s mouth and lean into the touch so Kei knows it’s welcome. Grateful that you’re able to keep the AC on, you can already feel how your body begins to heat up, and it’s only going to get worse when the rest finally join you. 

Kuroo’s lips brush against your shoulder. “Want me to put the sheets in the freezer for a minute, baby?” 

You can’t help laughing a little, rolling back so you can look up at him with a wry smile. “I don’t know what weird link you have going on with my body temperature, but I’m fine, thank you.” 

He huffs, affronted and offended even as he traces a path of kisses up the side of your neck, slow and lazy while he rubs his thumb over the edge of your towel. “I’m just a very attentive boyfriend, it’s not weird.”  

“Speaking of attentive boyfriends.” Akaashi’s voice is dry, and Bo immediately sits up to greet him, responsive like a puppy. “Help her sit up so we can get that towel off, the sheets are getting wet.” 

Bokuto is the one to lift you, holding you upright while Kuroo unwraps the wet towel from your body. Akaashi sits on the side of the bed and holds out one of his softer night shirts, one of the ones that are off limits from being stolen by greedy partners. It feels like heaven against your raw skin as he slips it over your head, mindful of how sore your arms are when you push them through the long sleeves. He moves to withdraw, already miles away as he runs through his nightly routine in his head, but you catch him by the arm and press a quick kiss to his hand before he’s out of reach.

“Thank you, Keiji.” You murmur, his wrist twisting so his palm kisses yours, fingers lacing together as he brings your hand to his lips to mirror your gesture, though his kiss lingers longer than yours did.

“Of course, love. Lay down, Kei and I will be in soon.” He pushes on your shoulders, gentle but insistent, and you’re boneless as Bo pulls you back against his chest. Laying down with you curled up in his arms and Kuroo wrapped around you from behind, Bokuto can’t help smiling, the sun in his eyes as he practically glows with warmth, whole in a way that he’d never known he hadn’t been until meeting you. 

Now dressed and ready to go to sleep, Akaashi crawls beneath the covers and settles himself between your legs, his head on your stomach, one of his hands resting on Kuroo’s thigh while Bo’s fingers comb through his hair. 

When you look around to try and catch a glimpse of Kei, you find him standing in the doorway, arms loosely crossed over his chest while he watches the four of you cuddle up, a softness on his face that melts like hot sugar when he meets your gaze, though he can’t quite muster the same angry scowl that he usually hides behind.

But he doesn’t linger long, placing a water bottle on the nightstand before crawling to the other side of the bed so he can slide in beside Bokuto, who immediately rolls onto his back so he can pull him against his chest with a happy little hum. His other arm comes around you, so you join Kei in cuddling into Bo’s sides with Kuroo wrapped around your back. Akaashi is nice and cool between your legs, a balm against the overwhelming heat encasing you on all sides.

A warm hand settles over yours, fingers curling to find home in the spaces between yours, and your eyes flutter open to find Kei watching you with a sleepy expression mirroring your own, cheek squished against Bo’s chest. You move your joint hands to rest over Bokuto’s heart, feeling the steady rhythm of it and how it quickens at your touch. 

“I love you.” You murmur, towards no one in specific but directed at everyone. 

They respond in kind, hands that squeeze you gently and rub soothing swirls into your aching muscles, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin to trace the outlines of bite marks and hickeys, lips ghost along your neck and your face, your arms, the skin of your stomach, everywhere they can reach. They whisper it back, quietly in the way they touch you, the way they treasure you in the afterglow. 

However much pain you’re in tomorrow, it’s worth it for the moments like these, and the moments that will come after you wake up. 

Kuroo will try to insist on carrying you everywhere, even to the bathroom, just to be obnoxious. It’s to hide the worry, the way he’ll tease you to see if you have the energy to even get riled up, push your buttons just to see if you have enough bite to snap. A nervous habit, he can’t help but prod you the more stressed out he is, like he has to gauge how you’re doing first before he himself can relax. 

Never to the point of upsetting you, though. He’ll stop if it’s too much, he always does. He mothers you, makes you healthy meals to eat since he knows the others will be sneaking you junk, and you’re already dreading the spinach smoothie he’s probably going to set in front of you the moment you’re out of bed.

Akaashi will probably make a dessert for you. He knows you like to have brownies or cake with your ice cream, and he likes that you can lay on the couch cuddling with Kuroo or Kei while he bakes so he can still talk to you, so he can still see you. Your aftercare days are as much for Akaashi as they are for you, just a little more than the others. 

It’s the one day where he’ll really allow himself to spoil you, to dote on you without worrying about being “too much.” 

Kei will need to be on you at nearly all times, or at least touching some part of you. In a way, he and Akaashi are similar in the sense that they both feel they need an excuse to be “overly” affectionate, even if in different ways. ‘Kaashi is just nervous about being overbearing, always wary of crossing some unseen line or imaginary boundary that he’s imposed upon himself. Kei, however, just hasn’t gotten to a point yet where he can be openly vulnerable, not easily. 

Having a day for aftercare, or even just a rest day, is the perfect excuse for him to be unabashedly affectionate. He’ll drag you down to the couch and wrap himself around you, long limbs tucked around your body with his face buried in your neck, all under the guise of comforting you as though he doesn’t need it just as much. 

And then Bokuto will come home, sweaty from sprinting directly from the gym because waiting for a bus would take too long. He’ll drop his things in a trail from the front door to wherever you are, apologies on his lips for the complaining he knows he’s going to hear from the others, but then his hands will be on you and he’ll kiss you silly. Bo probably won’t let you go for the rest of the night, forced to share you with Kei who is just as stubborn when push comes to shove. Bokuto hates being away on these kinds of days, he’s only missed one other and it was just as miserable for him then as it will be tomorrow. 

Like he knows, even in his sleep, that you’re thinking of him, Bo pulls you a little closer. He snuggles into you with a soft, sleepy breath that spills across your lips, leaves you feeling warm and dewy inside at how he responds to you even when dreaming. You kiss him once, gently, then tuck your face beneath his chin, close to where Kei is curled up. His head tilts, a silent request, and you kiss him too. 

Sleep comes quickly, easily after everything you’ve been through. You’re tucked in on all sides with an overwhelming amount of body heat that is barely kept at bay by the AC. Exhausted, sore, your arms still abuzz with the remnants of your three-edible excursion, and you drift off content with the knowledge that this is likely going to be the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. 

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima smut #kuroo smut #bokuto smut #akaashi smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo x tsukishima #kuroo x akaashi #kuroo x bokuto #bokuto x akaashi #bokuto x tsukki #akaashi x tsukki #jfc all the pairing tags #dom/sub #usage of drugs #(edibles) #dub con #fem!reader #I FORGOT LIKE 8 RELATIONSHIP TAGS FUCSDFKJV #tsukishima x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #i lied i only forgot 3 #sorry for the utter filth btw #i rly thought the kuroo fic was gonna be the most intense thing i ever wrote #this proved me wrong 5x over #i can't seem to decide what genre I wanna stick to

[sweetvoidstuff]

Whispers in the Wasteland Part 1 II Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, you and Hyun Su reconnect during a scavenger run, with unspoken tensions from the past lingering. A fragile connection blossoms through shared vulnerability, leading to a quiet understanding and healing in the desolate landscape.

Part 2: In the soft dawn light, Hyun Su awakens in your post-apocalyptic hideout, discovering your caring gestures and the comforting routine you've maintained. As the outside world's harsh reality fades away, the haven of your kitchen becomes a sanctuary, a refuge from the echoes of destruction, forging a deep connection between you and Hyun Su in the midst of desolation.

Masterlist

The eerie silence of the post-apocalyptic world was shattered by the clinking of scavenged supplies as you and Hyun Su reconnected during a scavenger run. Emotions swirled in the air, thick with the weight of the past year apart. Hyun Su, unable to hide his relief, began visiting your hideout regularly after you invited him but never stayed long, his presence a familiar balm in the harsh reality of survival, always offering help with necessary items, if not for you, at least with you.

As he assisted with supply runs, the unspoken tension of your previous parting hung in the air. Hyun Su, haunted by the ghosts of his past behaviors, sought to make amends. "Why don’t you stay? It’s getting late. You can always have the couch if you want," you suggested one evening, sensing the invisible struggle within him. "I don't want to overstay my welcome," he admitted, his eyes betraying a mix of fear and longing.

Smiling sadly, you respected his self-imposed boundaries and softly replied, "Hyun Su, you're not overstaying anything. I'm glad you're here." Despite your reassurances, and with a heavy heart, he left, maintaining a cautious distance, hesitating to cross an invisible boundary.

During one visit, he brought you petrol for an old generator you'd been trying to fix for a while. As you moved, wincing and subtly favoring your right side, curiosity and concern etched across his face. Hyun Su gently probed, "Are you okay? You're moving funny."

Sighing, you revealed the truth about your healing injury – a deep cut around your left rib. Recounting the close encounter with a slow but hostile monster, you explained how you'd narrowly dodged its attack. The pang of guilt and fear in Hyun Su's eyes mirrored the emotions you had felt that night.

"I should have been there to protect you," he confessed, his voice filled with regret.

Shaking your head, you said, "Hyun Su, you can't be my protector all the time. It was my fault for not paying attention, and I'm healing fine. It’s just a little red." Despite your reassurances, he needed to make amends, even if he didn't voice it.

The night unfolded with a delicate dance of shared vulnerability. Hyun Su was up, fetching everything you needed and making sure you didn’t move too much. It was sweet seeing him caring so much. After inquiring about the implied redness of your wound, he retrieved the hastily packed first aid kit you had scavenged together.

As he began examining and cleaning the wound, his touch was surprisingly gentle. Each movement was deliberate, almost tender. The intensity of his gaze showed not only concern but a deeper emotion. "You have to be more careful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the bandage he expertly applied. Your breath hitched, and a shiver ran down your spine at his touch.

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, there was a silent understanding. Hyun Su wasn't just tending to a wound; he was silently expressing regret, seeking forgiveness. Despite the apocalyptic world surrounding you, a fragile connection was rekindling. His eyes were intense, and you couldn’t tell if you looked at him for a moment or a lifetime. The closeness was palpable, and for a fleeting second, it seemed like the unspoken tension might give way to something more. His breath hitched, and your heart raced, but then Hyun Su locked down again, pulling back, a conflicted look in his eyes as he slowly removed his hands from your ribs.

After the makeshift first aid, you and Hyun Su sat together on your sofa. The rest of your shared dinner was left forgotten on the table. Many unsaid words lingered between you, but for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

As you drifted off to sleep on Hyun Su's shoulder, he nudged you, suggesting you go to bed while he would take his leave. But all his nudging did was make you lie down. Sleepily, you clumsily mumbled, laying your head on his leg, clutching his shirt tightly, and voicing a quiet "stay." He was confused, unsure, and couldn’t quite shake his concerns away.

"You sure?" he asked softly, the vulnerability in his eyes contrasting with the strength he showed during perilous scavenger runs.

"Yeah, Hyun Su. Just stay a bit longer," you whispered, and with that, he scooted a little bit down on the dingy sofa, allowing himself to enjoy your closeness and trust. In the quiet moments of the post-apocalyptic world, a subtle understanding and healing blossomed between you and Hyun Su. As he as well soon fell asleep, with you by his side, gently playing with your hair. Embracing a rekindled connection in a world that desperately craved it.

#sweet home netflix #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsu #sweet home imagines #kdrama #song kang #sweet home #hyun su #hyun soo #cha hyun su #cha hyunsoo

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

26 and 42 for the touch prompts please? They feel like they’d work well together

hope you’re able to get through the next couple of days alright :)

Astarion x AsexualBard!Tav Masterlist

Prompt: kissing the top of their head + braiding the other’s hair + @cakeboxie request: thoughts on bard tav having a hard time perfecting a piece and then astarion like, sits with them, and suddenly they’re able to finish it fine?

A/N: I thought these two would just go together. I hope that's okay!

Word Count: 1.4K

This was getting ridiculous. The melody had come to you so easily the other night. You’d felt it in your fingers the moment your head hit the pillow. All you had to do was remember it.

You plucked another handful of bars, hoping to spark something, but nothing came of it. This was normally when you would give it up. If it was actually memorable, you would have had it by now. Still, you played on. 

Something told you this one was special. It just needed a bit more patience. Maybe if you just—

"You’re repeating yourself again, darling.”

You jolted, the smooth notes scratching under your fingers as you whipped around to find Astarion standing in the doorway of your bedroom, his expression caught between exasperation and amusement.

You let out a long groan as your chin fell to your chest.

"That bad?"

You nodded.

“Aw, poor little songbird," he said, with a mocking pout.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’ve listened to you play the same four chords for the past twenty minutes. I’ve earned it.”

You wanted to say something smart, but came up short. He was right, damn him.

He took your silence as the defeat it was, smiling in triumph as stepped closer to the bed. 

“It might help if we get this out of the way,” he said, leaning down to brush aside a few of the loose strands out of your face.

“It’s not that bad.”

He gave you a doubtful look. “Just because your head is in a scramble doesn’t mean your hair has to be. You’re just inviting the rats at this point.”

You bit back a laugh. He was probably right. Now that you were paying attention, you could easily picture just how much of a mess you were. You’d been sitting cross legged against the headboard since you got up. Add on the fact that every moment your fingers weren’t running up your instrument they were running through your hair, and you’ve got yourself quite a nest for roosting. It was a wonder he hadn’t said anything sooner.

You shrugged, not really having anything else to say. 

Astarion just rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Honestly, what would you do without me?” he grumbled, but with no real bite to it. 

You then watched him as he rummaged through the night stand, coming back with a brush and small strip of leather.

“Move,” he prompted. 

You did so without question, moving up the bed just enough to allow him to kneel behind you. It was an act you would have found odd not even a month ago. You’d hesitate to call it routine, but it wasn’t not that. It was just something that happened sometimes: something you were growing to like.

He worked silently, brushing out the mess of tangles with ceremonial concentration. His fingers slipped themselves into the mix as well, pulling gently on the strands as he ran his nails gently across your scalp.

You closed your eyes, feeling your whole body relax under his touch.

You weren’t quite sure when he figured out this particular weakness of yours. You’d always played with your hair as a form of self-soothing, but you never shared that fact with anyone. It felt too personal, an admittance of something lacking inside you wished to fill. 

There was never a discussion about it. He hadn’t teased an explanation out of you. He just started one day and suddenly, you didn’t feel quite so empty.

It took you a moment to realize you were humming. The melody from before vibrated against your lips with the gentle ease of water over stone. 

As if in a trance, you picked your lute and started to play, the notes floating into the air and before your eyes. You let go, following the music where it led with only the slightest turns here and there to keep it on course until it faded towards its ending.

“Lovely,” Astarion whispered, his voice low and warm against your ear. 

“You think so,” you asked, turning your head just enough to catch his eye. 

His gaze lingered on you a moment, the corners of his mouth curling with a fondness that made your head skip a beat. His finger traced along the top of your head and down your hair guiding the newly crafted braid over your shoulder. 

“It may be my best work yet,” he said, grinning. 

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to take the high road and assume you just mean the hair.” 

“Well, yes, but you must admit the song is the superior creation.” 

“And it was all your doing, was it?” you said, dryly. 

“I wouldn’t say it was all my doing,” he allowed. “Of course you’re the talent. But seeing as I am your muse, I believe I deserve co-authorship.”  

Your eyes narrowed. “Who says you’re my muse?” 

“Every note you play, darling,” he said, his voice imbued with delighted mischief. “Complexity disguised in simplicity. Beautiful. Mesmerizing. More than a little dangerous and all shone through the lens of someone utterly devoted.” He leaned in closer, his nose just brushing against your own. “Am I wrong?” 

You could feel a creeping of heat come up your neck, but couldn’t bring yourself to break eye contact. This thing between you was still new. Neither of you had sat down to figure out exactly what it was. Granted, you had started with an openness you’d never had before. Knowing he could read you so easily left you a little off balance.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you warned. 

“Me?” he said, clutching a hand to his chest in a mockery of offense. 

You had to laugh. “Fine. If you are to be my muse, sit there and look pretty awhile while I work the rest of this out.” 

He gave a beleaguered sigh. “On any other day, I would be happy to oblige, however, other matters take precedent.”  

He then leaned over and pulled the lute right out of your hands. 

“Astarion!” 

“Nope. You haven’t eaten since last night. Keep that up and both of us are liable to go hungry.” 

Your frown deepened. He was cheating. There was no reason for him to starve just because you were. You’d agreed that feeding of the occasional bandit was a perfectly acceptable substitute. Besides, you were well out of the Shadowlands. All the same, he knew that line would work. You could never be too sure when your next meal was coming. 

“Fine. Fine. I’m moving. I’m moving,” you grumbled, pushing yourself off the bed and back to your feet. 

Blood rushed downward, making your light headedness and empty stomach suddenly impossible to ignore. Gods, it was almost midday. Had you really been sitting there that long? 

“Easy darling,” Astarion said, coming up behind you. “You’re welcome to swoon when Karlach can be the one to carry you.” 

“Perhaps I should dedicate my next piece to her then.”

His eyes narrowed, leaning down just enough to growl in your ear. “Don’t you dare.” 

You gave a light laugh, turning in his arms to face him. 

His features struck you as oddly serious.  His brow was furrowed and his lips were turned decidedly downward. No spark of humor laid in his eyes. He was genuinely upset. 

A part of you wanted to laugh harder at the absurdity, but you held back, knowing exactly where that hurt lay. For all his talk, he was just as unsure as you were. 

With great care you reached down, taking his hand in yours His eyes moved downward, watching in fascination. Knowing you had his attention, you raised it to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his fingers.

“I’m just teasing,” you assured. “If I’m lucky, you will be the last muse I ever have.” 

Astarion stayed silent a long while, searching your face for any sign of deception. Slowly, his shoulders began to relax, as a deeply held breath pushed out of his chest. 

He turned his attention to your hands then, examining them with careful consideration. His touch moved across your knuckles and fingers, lingering on the skin as if to memorize every line and hair. With gentle guidance he pried you hand open, allowing him to lean down and press his own kiss deep against your palm.

“Good,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, your eyes widening as you felt every part of you melt. There may come a time when you would become used to such tenderness, but you doubted it was coming anytime soon.

He took a moment to press one more kiss to your fingers before fully pulling away. 

“C’mon, the others are waiting,” he said, keeping your hand in his as he pulled you towards the door. 

You let him lead you, neither of you letting go. And if you were very lucky, you never would. 

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #asexual!tav #bard!tav #asexual!reader #astarion x evie

[scekrex]

Love your writing!!

Can I request an Adam x Lucifer’s Ex! reader? Reader is basically the same rank as Lucifer was (so he’s the same strength as him too) Basically, they split up after he and Lilith got together and gave Eve the Apple. Reader is extremely depressed about it but then he meets one of the humans from Eden, Adam . And they find solidarity and comfort in going through the same/similar situation.

Lowkey giving that one scene from Steven Universe (No idea if you’ve watched/like SU so, if you’re not sure what I’m talking about, I’ll link it here. (If you want, you can probably just skip to the time stamps or watch all of it, either’s fine, but it starts at 2:33 and ends around 3:11

Spoilers for Steven Universe, if you even care.

https://youtu.be/PnlRR0rX_Q0?feature=shared

(The context for the SU scene is ofc different, but just the overall vibe of it is what I mean.) but just 2 people abandoned by someone who was supposed to be their soulmate (Twice for Adam) and them finding love in each other in the end.

(Like, imagine both the fluff AND angst potential.)

Also!! If/After you write this one, I might request a Part 2 of this with angst for the aftermath of EP.8. (ONLY if you’re ok with it OFC! If not, just tell me in your A/N for this one and I won’t send it!!)

I hope you have a great day!!!! 💙💙

Okay first of all: gimme that EP 8 request right now, I need it soooo badly °^° I haven't seen SU but I've watched the scene you linked and it helped to get the vibe right so much, this is a lil short but dragging it out just to make it appear longer felt wrong. I hope you like it though. Also friendly reminder: this is set in Eden before Adam became a douchebag.

Part 2

I'm a jester and I'm yours, call me your fool

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Eden had always been the place for you to ge whenever you felt sad or upset, it calmed you down, eased your mind, made your thoughts shut up for only a couple moments. Lucifer had betrayed you, you knew that, you also knew that it had been for the best to end things with him before he would take it too far with his wish for free will and with the things that were going on between him and Lilith. And before you even realized how sad that made you feel, to be betrayed, to be replaced by a mortal soul that would never be as pure as you were, you started crying - it wasn’t loud and if someone wouldn’t have paid attention it was also not visible but Adam did pay attention. Lucifer and Lilith had given Eve the apple, the forbidden fruit, how much further would heaven allow them to go? You weren’t sure. What you were sure about though, was the fact that you missed Lucifer, you missed his warmth, his chaotic yet gentle way of handling things, no matter what it was. You missed his creative mind, his joyful character, the love he had held for you that he had never been able to hide. You missed your clumsy blonde little angel - you shook your head, no, he was no longer yours.

And while you tried to sort your emotions out, the brunette human carefully creeped closer, he noticed your sadness and despite the fact that he didn’t know why you were crying, he felt like he understood without knowing the true reason - he had heard them whispering about it. About how Lucifer had left his boyfriend in order to get together with the first woman, his ex wife, Lilith. And while one loss alone had been seemingly impossible to carry, Adam had not only lost Lilith to his former best friend, he had also lost Eve. Eve, who had tried to talk him into eating the apple as well, he had refused to though, he wanted to remain pure, if she decided that wasn’t for her though, then that was her deal and not Adam’s.

Once he had reached you, he quietly sat down next to you, he wanted to take the sadness away from you, a creature as gorgeous and heavenly as yours should not sit in Eden and cry. He wanted to ask you why you were crying, who caused all those tears but he felt like it wasn’t his place to do so - you were an angel after all. Was he even allowed to sit next to you? The first man didn’t know, but he was sure that if he wouldn’t be allowed near you, you would tell him so. Lucifer might be disobeying heaven’s rules, but you? You looked too pure to do so.

You quickly wiped your tears away as soon as you noticed the presence next to you, when you turned your head to look at the person that had decided to take their place by your side, you were quite surprised to see the face of the first man there. “You look so sad,” the brunette hummed as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. Your golden, broken looking eyes met equally broken brown ones and you somehow found comfort in them, even though they belonged to a total stranger. “Yeah,” you softly chuckled at his words, a small smile forced itself onto your lips, “I guess that’s normal when you get dumped, though.” So the rumors had been true, Lucifer had left his boyfriend for Adam’s former wife. He inhaled deeply, “That’s what love brings.” And yeah, he had a point. Love was able to bring joy and happiness, but it could also take those feelings away from you within seconds. Carefully you leaned into Adam’s touch and closed your eyes as you breathed in the scent of the brunette. “A creature as beautiful as you shouldn’t be sad over losing someone like Lucifer though,” the first man continued and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away all remains of your tears. “That’s so easy to say, Adam,” your voice cracked when you said his name and you opened your eyes again, “He was everything.” Adam nodded, he understood, “So was Eve. And Lilith. But sometimes they choose a different path than you do and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

And looking at it that way made you realize that Adam was in the same situation as you were, a situation that tore apart everything just because Lucifer had made a reckless decision. You had lost everything and so had Adam, you were sitting in the same boat, sailing the same ocean of sadness. But now you had found each other, so at least you weren’t sailing alone anymore. “Adam?” you asked quietly as you looked at the first man, making sure you’d get nothing but honesty when your eyes met his, “Can you stay?” And without hesitation the first man nodded, this would not only bring you comfort and take a little bit of the sadness away from you, no, the brunette would also find comfort in this, you would keep his mind busy and that he was very thankful for.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you