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nishiannoya · 2 years

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hanamaki takahiro x f!reader, alcohol, weed, driving under the influence, creepy dudes, fake dating trope, i promise this isn't good im just rambling

Good fucking god, the man infront of you is insufferably relentless. What's your name? Are you here alone? Do you have a boyfriend? Can I have your number? Where do you work? Let me buy you a drink inside.

You're in no mood. You had stepped outside of the bar to get away from the crowd, not for some creep to immediately hop into your space and gradually make you more uncomfortable with an onslaught of intrusive questions. You turn your head to avoid looking at him, though it's perfect timing because you catch your friend coming out the entry.

Makki, help me, you mouth at him with big pleading eyes. He knows exactly what to do.

"Babe! There you are! I was looking for you," he says as he strides over to you and slips his arm around your waist. You relax, feeling safe now that he's by your side.

"Just wanted some air. Sorry, babe," you sigh and tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. It's all too natural, most likely because this isn't the first, second, or even third time that Makki's come to your rescue as your fake boyfriend. You've always been acutely aware of people's predatory vibes towards you - men and women alike who've come on too strong for your comfort. Thankfully, Makki's learned over time to keep an eye on you.

The annoying guy who had been hitting on you glares at both of you now, almost as if he's trying to detect your bullshit, but quickly replaces the expression with a slimy smile.

"Enjoy your night! Keep an eye on her - I almost snatched her up."

You shiver and hold back a gag when he walks away. A deep breath huffs from your nose as you thank your friend for the service.

"Are you okay? How long was he bothering you? You should at least tell one of us if you're going to go off on your own," Makki lectures with a serious look on his face and releases his hold on you. Something in you wishes he would've held on just a little longer.

"I'm okay. He was just being way too forward," you tell him and straighten yourself back up.

"What a douche. You good to go back in?" He asks, face relaxing after hearing that you're okay.

You nod.

"Cool. Oikawa said he's gonna buy us all shots. Stick close to me, okay? Let me know if you see that guy lurking around. I'm not afraid to have a word with him."

You smile and follow him closely as you make your way back into the bar. He always makes you feel safe.

It's another night at the downtown bar strip. An indie band played a street concert and you're riding high from being so close to the stage and singing and jumping along with your friends. Your cheeks are warm from a few beers and the exciting atmosphere the band had created.

"Shit."

The crowd thins when the show ends, and suddenly Makki is by your side gripping your hand. You look up at him, heart skipping around at feeling his hand in yours.

"Makki, what are you-?"

"Stay by me," he says as he squeezes your hand tighter, though his attention is focused on something in the near distance. You look as well, and you soon realize what has him so tense.

It's his ex.

Things had ended on a weird note with them, and Makki had been a bit hung-up on it, though you low-key always thought that he could do better. You see the hint of forlorn feelings in his face, and you realize that it's your turn to rescue him. You feel a little perturbed for being used more as a jealousy tactic, but it doesn't stop you from squeezing his hand back. You're quick to draw his focus away, swooping infront of him and reaching out to touch his face with your other hand.

"Hiro, look at me."

You don't know if his ex is looking. You don't really care. He shifts his eyes to yours, something flickering behind them when you say his name.

"You're here with me and our friends tonight, and we're gonna have fun," you say with a grin.

It takes him a moment to respond. You can almost see his brain working something out, though you're not quite sure what that is. He blinks at you a few times before he matches your smile.

"Okay, you're right," he gives in, letting his shoulders relax.

Your heart swells with joy when he doesn't even spare another glace away from your face. Your smile grows and you tug at his hand to get him to follow you to the bar you agreed to meet everyone else at.

"You can hold my hand as long as you want. I'll be your cock block tonight," you tease, though really, you wouldn't mind if he held on all night. You owe him at least one night of fake partnership.

He immediately lets go of your hand, a pink tinge seeping into his freckled cheeks.

"Thanks. I think I'll be okay. I won't kill your game," he says and pushes you forward between the shoulder blades playfully.

You make a snarky comment back that you could still pull your fair share even with him hanging all over you. A little voice in the back of your mind wants you to try - a whole night of pretending to be together rather than just a moment, like a trial just to see how it fits.

"Why don't you just date her for real?" Iwaizumi asks in earnest. He's not stupid, and can see just as clearly as everyone else that you and Makki something going on, even if it is momentary and pretend.

"Nah man, she's my friend. She's friends with all of us. You'd do the same for her, and she'd do the same for you," Makki reasons, seemingly more preoccupied with rolling the next blunt for the circle.

"But it's always the two of you," Mattsun says without hesitation, quirking a thick brow at his friend.

"Just friends, I'm telling you. She doesn't care. You're the ones reading into this way more than either of us are."

And to prove it to them, he tells you of the conversation when you join them later.

"Stupid, right?" Makki laughs as you draw in your second puff.

It doesn't hurt, but something seems off. You're not surprised that the conversation happened, though you pretend to choke on your hit as if you've been caught off guard. You shoot glares over to the other boys, who dart their eyes away sheepishly.

"For real dudes? I thought it was pretty clear that Makki and I are friends," you say innocently, more so to convince yourself than the others. You two are friends. Friendly friends. The friendliest of friends.

They seem to buy it as well as you pass on the blunt of your pregame ritual. It's obviously something neither of you want to address. Soon enough you're all laughing at Oikawa as he ungracefully spits out some Scooby snacks and the topic is long forgotten.

When nothing but the roach is left, you fix your lipstick in your pocket mirror and make sure your eyes aren't too red. The plan is to hit the bars again tonight, and you tell yourself that there's always the sad, off chance that you'll meet the love of your life in a grungy, sticky room of alcohol and hormones.

"Does my face look okay?" You turn and ask Makki for reassurance.

"Hmm? Yeah, looks fine I guess."

Good enough. You can tell he's already more than a little foggy by the way he barely raises his short brows. In a matter of minutes, you're out the door and crammed into the back middle seat of Mattsun's car between Oikawa and Makki. Both of their legs are pressed up against yours, but for some reason, you're only aware of Makki's hand resting on his knee and that the tip of his pinky is touching your thigh that doesn't move for the whole ride.

Despite Mattsun being more than a blunt and a shotgunned beer in, and with Iwa's questionable workout dubstep playlist shaking every car he pulled up next to, he gets you all downtown safely. You decide to go to the bar with a built-in pizza window for when the inevitable munchies hit you all, but for now, the guys use your feminine status as a means to work your way into a spot at the bar.

You hop up on a barstool and patiently wait while the guys get their orders in. It's a Friday night, so it's quite packed with a mix of college students and townies. You scan the crowd, looking to see if there's anyone who could catch your eye. There is. And your entire body goes cold when you make eye contact.

"Makki," you tug on his sleeve to get his attention, but he's too focused on paying his tab.

It's the guy who was bothering you a few weeks ago. He spotted you from across the crowd and didn't seem to catch the hint of you immediately looking away. Your eyes dart back over and you see him pushing his way through the people to get to you.

"Makki, hey," you whine, panic taking hold in your chest, but the loud music of the bar drowns out your plea.

The man is locked on you. He's either ignorant to the fear and repulsion in your expression, or he likes it. You feel sick and nervous, not wanting to give him the pleasure of any kind of exchange with you. He's getting closer and closer, until Makki finally turns to you, holding two drinks in his hand and handing one to you.

"Here, I got you-"

You ignore the glass being offered to you, reaching up to grab the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the short pink hairs and pull his face down to meet your lips. You close your eyes and hold the kiss, even daring to gently move your lips against his for the sake of it looking convincing to those watching. You can tell you caught him by surprise, but you swear you can feel him start to kiss you back just as you pop open one eye to check your surroundings.

"Oh thank God, he left," you say with a relieved sigh when you pull back.

Makki looks at you, mouth just a little bit agape and face unreadable as you trace your thumb around the outline of your lips.

"Sorry about that," you chirp in nonchalance. Surely he understands why you did it.

"Does my lipstick look okay?" You ask, leaning in closer so he can get a better look. His eyes fall down to your mouth, though he seems stiff and a little frozen.

"Y-Yeah. You look- Your lips... your lips look..." he rambles as he fights a goofy smile that's twitching at the corner of his mouth. You laugh a little at the effect it had on him, but he said it himself: you're friends.

"Oh? Is this for me? Thanks!" You beam as you take one of the drinks in his hand and stir it up before taking a sip.

You think nothing of the kiss, but when you peer up at him over the rim of your glass, you can't help but to feel a little bad when you notice that he's still staring at you.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

He lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head to bring himself back from wherever his mind wandered off to.

"Yeah," he responds. "I'm fine."

Nothing else out of the ordinary happens that night. You end up getting so drunk that you don't even remember the quick little kiss. But Makki remembers. It's the moment he realized he doesn't want to pretend anymore.

#tw alcohol #tw weed

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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Osamu's love language:

#osamu headcanons #random dumb stuff #ive been having trouble eating since covid and my bf got really mad at me yesterday

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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There's never been a reason for Hinata to learn how to drive. He biked to school. He biked and used ride shares once he got to Brazil. And when he came back home to Japan, the public transport system was more than enough for him to get around.

But now he's back in Brazil, and he meets you, the owner of an old but reliable sedan that gets you around the city and out of it when you need to breathe. You certainly don't mind driving, though inevitably comes the day where you toss him the keys and ask him to pick up some take out on the other side of town.

"You know I can't drive!"

"Like, at all? Never even had a lesson?"

His cheeks go pink as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. You sigh and end up dropping what you're doing to go pick up dinner for the night.

The next day, you force him to accompany you to an empty parking lot where you offer to teach him the basics of driving. He's reluctant at first, and after he hits a fence, scrapes the passenger side headlight on a pole, and runs over a curb, he's feeling a bit discouraged.

"I don't know about this," he groans after you instruct him on how to straighten the car back out.

"It's fine! This old piece of junk can take a few bruises," you insist.

"Eh, maybe we should just come back to this. Try again in another year or something. Getting around on my bike is fine," he says with a pout.

You reach over the center console and place your hand on his thigh, giving a light squeeze. You weren't planning on bringing this up, but he seems to really need the encouragement.

"Shoyo, if you don't learn how to drive, I'll never get to give you roadhead."

5 days later, he's the proud owner of a Brazilian driver's license.

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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Atsumu's love is ultraviolet. Blinding. Stinging. Something of the heavens. Seeps into your skin and changes the nature of everything that makes you, you. Absolutely unignorable and determined to reach you no matter if you dare to try to block it out.

Osamu's love is infrared. Studying. Discerning. Stable and rooted to the earth. Illuminates your world when you believe you can no longer see and shows you that which you could not see before. Quiet and tenuous - if you don't know where to look, you might miss it, though it's always there.

This is the Miya divide.

#just been on my mind for a while #idk

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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im gonna thirst (ish, sfw) for makki in your ask (bc who else?) (also special bc i don't usually thirst for him but i've been thinking) my headcanon is that part of the reason makki is between jobs is because his parents are loaded (seijoh is a private school after all! the fees may not be like western private schools but certainly it's not nothing), he knows he's supposed to have a career and he'll get around to it but why rush?

And then he meets you and he's really not in a rush. you guys go on a few dates and he's completely hooked on you. he takes you out to increasingly extravagant/adventurous dates and he pays for everything. if you guys go to a climbing gym he won't even let you get the rentals, he will literally buy you your own set of equipment. and he's not particularly loud about any of this either, makes it seem like it's casual or no big deal. he realizes a little too late all he wants to do is spend his time with you, he visits you on your lunch break even if it's only 30 minutes, he accompanies you on your commute even if it's completely out of the way for him. he honestly forgets that getting a job is something he even is supposed to do because caring for you has become a full time job for him. he literally will not get a job unless you or someone important to you makes a comment about it and if you even hint at liking him as a househusband he will never look at a job application again in his life.

#kiki-ps📬#skye you have utterly annihilated me #makki sir your only job is to love me 🥺❤️#i am literally on the floor #fuck i am so in love #this is perfection #every single word #i would tell him he needs to invest and this asshole would probably invest in NFTs and somehow actually make money off them #i love that you mentioned the climbing gym because my bf and i went regularly before covid #hbd bby 🍓💕#actual loml

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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I can't stop thinking abt Deku and Hinata being huge fans of each other's shows

Like Hinata thinking "Plus Ultra" is the coolest slogan ever and has a bunch of shirts with it plastered across his chest. Starts yelling "Sao Paulo Spike!" whenever he hits the ball and all of his attacks are Brazil themed

And Deku watching HQ!! and starting a UA volleyball team (Himself, Shoji, Kendo, Uraraka, Tsuyu, Ojiro, Iida, Tsuburaba - quirks allowed). Maybe gets "For today you are the defeated. What will you become tomorrow?" tattooed somewhere on his person.

#i think theyd be good friends :)

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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kiki i went to denny’s yesterday and i thought of us and our 2D boyfriends as i drank my shitty coffee <3

ᴏɴ ʙᴏɴᴅ

Jess, I started writing this after you wrote Bail Out and then got stuck and then accidentally published it unfinished and then quickly set it as private so I wouldn't lose it. I had to go digging, but I have finished it in lieu of this ask 🤍

You and Reigen get arrested for fighting in a Denny's parking lot at 4 AM. After your friends graciously bail you both out, you somehow wind up back at fucking Denny's.

Implied f!reader but no pronouns mentioned. I headcanon this gag trope that Reigen talks about his job and Mob and Dimple and such, but every time his s/o comes around, they just so happen to leave or get drawn into some other ordeal. Takes place before the divine tree arc. I guess in some kind of way this could be considered a fluff piece.

"I can't believe they let us back in here," you grumble as you huddle yourself in the corner on the booth, trying to keep as far away from the intolerable blonde man sitting on the same side as you. Your friend/saving grace/one true shining beacon of hope that the world is a good place sits across from you next to her boyfriend, who is barely more tolerable than your own, but at least he hasn't gotten you arrested.

"Honey, we see someone pull a gun out in here at least once a week. Your little lovers quarrel in the parking lot ain't nothin'," the waitress says as she fills the coffee cups around the table, completely numb to the fuckery of overnight diner shifts.

"Did you happen to get this one punching him in the face on camera?" Your friend's boyfriend asks as he gestures towards you, earning him a jab to the ribs.

"Oh please, they're old news on Tokkipon," the waitress says before leaving the table. You cringe at the mention of the infamous account that posts submitted photo and video highlights of your prefecture's notorious trashy behavior. You hope she's right. It was less than 5 hours ago when you were hauled away in the back of a cop car, throwing over-exaggerated looks of disgust at Reigen who was making stupid taunting faces at you through the window of the separate patrol car he was in.

"Already at 300-thousand views!" The tall guy across from you exclaims with his phone in hand. Your friend sheepishly peeks the screen, though she at least tries to act disinterested for your sake.

"Hmmm," Reigen muses and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly how the gears of his mind work. "I could use this exposure to boost my brand."

You slap your hands on the table and groan.

"I have to pee. Move."

Though you don't give him the chance, climbing over him and purposely stomping on his leg as you exit the booth. You don't actually need the bathroom, just need to get away from him. Your friend quickly excuses herself to follow you - the law of women forbidding her from allowing you to travel to the bathroom alone. That, and she's eager to hear what went down. The only thing you had said when you called was, "I'm in jail. There's several wads of cash in my underwear drawer at home if you need it. Plan to bail for two."

"Are you okay?" She asks as soon as the swinging door closes behind you. You do a quick scan to make sure no one else is in the stalls before you rant.

"Well, I have assault and battery on my record now. I'm dogshit tired. I met some of the saddest, roughest women I've ever encountered in my life in the holding cell. And I don't think Reigen and I can recover from this. But, yeah. I think I'm more okay than most people would be," you say, honestly too exhausted to really feel much of anything except acceptance.

"He didn't fight you back? Did he?"

"Nah, there was a cop in the parking lot who saw the whole thing and came running over."

"Then why did Reigen get arrested too?"

"Well the cops were just gonna take me, but he kept saying things to piss me off. He was so irritating and persistent that they decided to take him in as well for interfering with their duties because he kept interrupting," you explain as you make your way over to one of the sinks. You catch your reflection, looking quite disheveled and you make your best attempt to smooth down your hair.

"What even got you two in it in the first place?"

You stay silent with your lips pressed into a tight line.

"Don't tell me-"

"It's the fucking broccoli!" You lament, voice bouncing off the tiled bathroom. At first you thought it was funny, like an inside joke between you and Reigen that he had anything to do with skyscraper vegetable incident. But between that, and the mysterious Mob that always seems to leave right before you come around, as well as some other fishy circumstances that he blames on spirits, you wonder if the jokes are just him playing you for a fool.

"How dumb does he think I am? I get that his job is all about bullshitting, but to think he can try and bullshit me too? Fuck him and all his stupid psychic bullshit and his stupid little imaginary friends. It's all made up! Everything! It just makes me think, what else could he be making up as well? Is he insane, or just an asshole? Or both? And yet he makes me feel like I'm insane and an asshole! Why do I even like him?"

"I mean, do you have any other explanation for the giant broccoli other than a psychic phenomenon?" Your friend tries to reason. Bless her heart.

"It's obviously a government experiment in trying to solve world hunger," you huff, feeling quite confident in your conclusion. You had scoured enough tinfoil forums to be convinced of the theory.

"It's a giant broccoli in the middle of our city! You can't come at it with logic like that! Just like you can't logic your way around being in love with him."

"You take that back!" You gasp, horrified despite the truth to all her points. "I only love you, not that weasel out there."

"Who? My weasel or yours?" She jokes, and you manage a chuckle at the burn to her own lover.

"You two are cute. Wish Reigen and I could be- could've been more like that," you sigh. In another life where you had a better temper and he knew how to be serious for one second, then maybe.

"Aw, don't talk like that! I'm sure you'll be okay after some mediocre pancakes and bacon," she assures you.

"Nothing like a Grand Slam to cover up my abuser status." It's only a half-joke that does little ease the weighty feeling in your chest. If Reigen had been the one who punched you, you certainly would not be sharing coffee and breakfast with him.

"Quit it! You're not a monster! His teeth aren't even loose!"

You accept it for now, too tired to make any argument against her. Your rough reflection seems to stare back at you with condescending pity, and you accept that too with another sigh. You exit the bathroom with your friend in tow, feeling a little weird and anxious about going back to the table and having to sit next to the man who you'll probably be seeing for the last time. However, something else makes you stop in your tracks when you catch sight of your table.

"What's wrong?" You friend asks as she peeks around your shoulder.

"They're," you feel your skin go cold, "getting along."

Your friend laughs and keeps walking, seemingly delighted at the sight of the two men excitedly showing each other their phone screens. You, on the other hand, can't find the joy in the budding friendship between her boyfriend and your....boyfriend, for now. Despite the headache forming behind your eyeballs, you make your way over. Reigen gets up to let you back in to your side of the booth. You can feel his eyes on you as you cast your sight down and to the side, ignoring the tightness in your chest at knowing his stare doesn't hold the harshness you deserve.

Thankfully, the food arrives as soon as you settle back in, distracting you and everyone else with it's bare minimum quality. You imagine it beats whatever they're serving in jail though, and you graciously eat up the overcooked eggs paired with undercooked hash browns. Though mid-chew, you see Reigen's hand come creeping over from the side and onto your plate to pilfer a piece of your bacon. Quickly, you snatch his wrist in your hand and whip your neck to glare at him.

"I swear, if you know what's good for-" You cut yourself off, finding yourself nearly snarling at him and everyone at the table staring at you in anticipation. It's the first time you're able to look him in the eye since you got out. He's looking at you with the same old beady black eyes, amused at your reaction. Something about it makes your face go hot and your heart feel like it's going to tear in two. Not wanting to cause another scene, you huff out your nose in defeat.

"Whatever, take it. They slice it too thin anyway," you grumble and let him go. This is probably the last time you'll be sitting with him like this, the least you can do is let him have some shitty break-up bacon. You can sense his eyes still on you when you go back to your eggs that had gone cold all too quick. He grunts and eats the bacon, though with less enthusiasm than he usually has for food.

The rest of the meal is fairly quiet save for your friend's boyfriend trying to break the mood by messing with her food and making awful puns. They really are cute, you think. As much as you try to suppress it, it makes you envious. You wonder if there was ever a time when you so carefree and relaxed in your feelings for Reigen. It hurts your head too much to think about.

You pay the bill as a small gesture of thanks to the other couple, though you insist you owe them quite a few more treats to some place a little more upscale. Perhaps a giftcard to a steakhouse since this is the first and last double date you'll be on for a while.

The back middle seat keeps you separated from Reigen during the ride to drop you off. You thought he'd feel meters and meters away, but he feels exactly 18 inches from your side, awkwardly distanced yet not far enough. The drive is mostly wordless, everyone in the vehicle quite tired from the wedge in their regular schedules, though Reigen gives directions to drop him off at his office. It's mere minutes away, just a few turns and one red light, and all too soon the car is stopped outside the familiar building.

He gets out, and you hesitate, unsure if you should get out too.

"What are you doing? Go!" The two in the front both encourage you as they squish together to look at you through the rearview mirror.

"I-" You stop whatever excuse you had and sigh as you unbuckle. "Fine. Going."

Before you close car door behind you, you poke your head back in and look at your friend. "If you ever get arrested for punching him," you gesture at the man in the passenger seat, "I won't bail you out because I'll also be in jail for punching him."

"Love you too," she says as her boyfriend gives you a wary smile. "Now go! I want to go back to sleep!"

Your heart thumps when you close the door for good and watch as they drive off. Reigen waits for you at the door to his office, leaning against the wall and lighting up a cigarette between his lips.

"I thought you were quitting," you say, finding the words easier than you thought you would.

"I think I deserve one," he retorts after exhaling the first drag. You hate it, mostly because you hate how good he looks doing it.

You sigh for the hundredth time this morning, closing your eyes and wringing your hands a bit as you prepare to say what you need to.

"I'm sorry."

"I forgive you."

His response is so fast that it feels anticlimactic. You had been dreading a painful, drawn out silence, but instead he just gives his forgiveness like it's nothing. But it's not nothing. Your heart squeezes, and finally the wear and exhaustion of this whole fiasco comes crashing down on you.

"I- I don't want to break up," you choke out in a wobbly voice, with big fat stinging tears welling up in your eyes that don't even need you to blink to spill over.

He drops the cigarette and pushes himself off the wall, rushing to grab you by the shoulders.

"Who said anything about breaking up?!" He asks, sounding a little frantic.

Your shoulders shake as you fight to hold back the sobs, eyes and teeth clenched in a futile attempt to keep you from completely coming apart.

"I hurt you! I-It's not right. I don't- I don't deserve you. You don't d-deserve that," you snivel, barely registering his hands on you. You can't bear to look at him, and hang your head low so the tears can hopefully fall on the ground instead of down your cheeks.

"We can talk about it at least. Besides, you have a ways to go before you can throw an effective Anti-Esper Punch™," he says, and you can't tell if he's teasing or being serious.

"Did you just say the tradem- Nevermind. This doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense," you lament, taking a step forward and knocking your forehead on his shoulder. "I just wanna go to sleep and pretend nothing happened. But we can't do that. And I don't think I can trust you to be serious with me, and I can't trust myself not to be frustrated with you."

You don't expect him to move his arms around you and pull you into him. You're not the type of couple for such affection, especially here on the open sidewalk where people can see that there's obviously some kind of scene going on. But you're exhausted and you slump against him, squeezing your arms around his middle right back and let your tears soak his white button down that's far more wrinkly than usual. Part of you fears that this will be your last time holding him so close.

However, he speaks and brings you to a place that feels like home.

"I am serious with you. Why else would I get myself arrested?"

You finally look up at him, whipping your chin upwards so you can get a good scan of his face. Despite your eyes swelling, they open wide when you see nothing but earnest in his expression.

"Y-You mean-? On purpose?!" You stutter.

"Well, yeah. Getting arrested sucks. I wasn't gonna make you go through that by yourself," he says simply.

Your heart squeezes. More tears fall from your eyes as you wrap yourself all too tightly around him, crying into his neck, "Stupid! Idiot! I- I can't stand you! Absolute scum of the earth! Why would you- For stupid dumbass me!? You're so-!"

"You're welcome." You feel him laugh at you, one hand brushing at your back affectionately.

At this point, you don't even know if you can say what you really mean without drawing concern. Your throat constricts, but you still manage to croak out a strained, "Thank you."

His other hand comes to rest atop your head, smoothing over your hair. Maybe one day you'll be able to be more open with your feelings, but for now, you say what you can by refusing to let go of him.

"Let's go inside. I'll keep business closed today. Though, if there is a spiritual emergency, I might have to address it," he tells you and pats you on the head.

Slowly, you loosen your hold on him and sigh through your stuffy nose the best you can.

"Still on about spirits even after-?"

You shift your head from his neck, pulling back and opening your eyes. You're so worn that you must be half asleep already. Or maybe you're starting to hallucinate from the lack of sleep. You give your eyes a testing squeeze before popping them back open and blinking a few times to clarify your visions, but-

"Reigen," you say slowly, "there's some ugly green thing hanging around by your head."

"Oh, so now you can actually see me and you call me ugly?!"

Yeah, you're definitely losing it. Or you owe Reigen another apology.

#this was supposed to be short #<<< the biggest lie i tell myself #for anyone who doesnt know the friends bf is kuroo

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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ᴄᴏᴠᴇᴛ sᴀɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

18+ Only - MDNI

well I never planned on writing for Genshin, but since I couldn't find an in universe Thoma smut fic, I wrote my own. also for @gg9183 🤍

thoma x f!reader, did not proofread, not really slow burn but you have to read to get to the smut, pwp, pwf, lightly possessive, dry humping, slight angst, hint at aether x ayaka, some spoilers for the inazuma arc, (3.97k wc)

Perhaps it's because you come from a small clan, living a life closer to that of a commoner than what one would expect of a family in power, but you always come to the Kamisato estate with a critical eye. It's not that you don't like your meetings with Ayaka (a roundabout plan by your parents to raise the clan's status in hopes that one day she'd have the pull to suggest to her older brother that he marry you), but the perfection you observe makes you wary. They could try to hide it with their immaculately clean halls and rooms, or Ayaka's drilled manners, but you know that nothing is perfect.

Certainly the housekeeper they call Thoma is no exception to this knowledge.

However, despite your reservation to believe in perfection, the blond foreigner has yet to prove he's anything but so. He seems to be friends with just about everybody, and all that know him do nothing but revere him for his skills as a housekeeper and business negotiator. He's kind in a genuine way, and you can't find a hint of hidden motive behind the offers of his hand to help you up or down any stairs, running after you with an umbrella if it rains on your journey back home, or his jacket if he catches a hint of a chill in the air.

Oh, and he's handsome too.

As the case may be, he is an exception and he really is perfect. And almighty archon, is it ever so annoying.

But you know you should not concern yourself with agonizing and irritating thoughts of Thoma's perfection. You know the real reason you've been cultivating familiarity with the Kamisato clan is for none other than the man himself, Kamisato Ayato. You've only been introduced and had quick greetings before he'd retreat to take care of his duties with the Yashiro Commission. He's handsome as well, sharing the same genteel beauty as his sister. You wonder if the suggestion he marry someone from such a clan as yours would even be suitable. He's supposedly a fearsome fighter and strategist, and perhaps would be better suited for the Kujou clan's military general daughter.

At the very least, you like to think that your friendship with Ayaka is meaningful enough to give your clan a stronger voice when you eventually take over one day. Back when you were kids, you were only allowed to converse through a screen divider, making your visits a little awkward. However, with the years, she was finally able to meet you face to face, and though shy and reserved at first, you've noticed in the last year or so that she's become more relaxed and excitable.

"Excuse me if this is uncouth. I couldn't possibly talk to Thoma about this, but I-" the icy-haired girl fumbles around uncharacteristically with her words one day over tea at the estate. "I was wondering you had any experience with, um, love."

The inquiry throws you off and makes your brain go wild with the thought of why she would be asking, and ultimately who she could be seeking advice on. Thoma is the only one who comes mind, seeing that they spend a considerable amount of time together and he dotes on her with the same kindness he shows to everybody - if you were her age, you'd also be charmed. You take a deep breath, mentally composing a respectable response.

"I'm afraid I don't know much when it comes to romance, other than the stories," you admit as you nervously take a sip of tea. You do know a little more than you're willing to let on, but you're not sure what would be appropriate to share. Certainly you've found people attractive, but never enough to distract yourself from your duties as the future head of your clan. However, Ayaka is a few years younger than you, any normal teenager would begin to think of such things in a serious manner. "If may be so bold as to ask, why?"

Her cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink as she lets her gaze fall to her hands in her lap.

"I made a friend recently. Perhaps you have heard of the traveler who helped to end the vision hunt decree," Ayaka answers shyly.

Your mouth hangs open just a bit before turning into a smile at the revelation. The esteemed Ayaka-dono falling for a foreign traveler? This is very exciting news.

"And you're in love with him?" You exclaim, although not too loudly, knowing that Thoma and some others are right outside the room.

"No! I mean, he and I are friends. He helped me learn more about my mother, and we also went to the festival together, and after-" She cuts herself off.

"And after?" You prod. This is the most she's ever opened up to you, and the topic is quite stimulating.

"We, um, shared an intimate moment."

You go silent, eyelids pulled back high in shock. You find it hard to even blink, but you manage to at least clear your throat and not drop your tea cup.

"By intimate, you mean like, kissing?" You ask, hoping for nothing worse of an answer.

"Eh?! No, no! K-Kiss? I meant- Not kissing! Th-That's- We- I just-" She stammers in embarrassment and covers her face with a fan.

The conversation must have gotten a little loud, because the door slides open to reveal Thoma looking in. You meet his stare. For a split second, you notice that it lacks the usual lightness, but quickly a bright smile takes over when he asks, "Can I get you two anything?"

"We're fine Thoma," Ayaka tells him as she lowers her fan, quickly putting on her usual demeanor with impressive turnaround.

"Well if that's the case, my lady," he says turning towards you. "Your room is prepared for your stay. Might you accompany me to help you settle in?"

It's not unusual for him to ask, being too considerate to move a lady's things without her being present. Ayaka nods toward you as if to say she'll find you later to continue your discussion. Before you can even shift to stand up, Thoma is by your side offering his hand. Again, nothing unusual, but there's something in the back of your mind that tells you to be more on guard. You take his hand though, and rise to your feet, bowing towards Ayaka who gives you a small smile.

Thoma offers his arm to you as you walk through the expansive estate. He's talkative as per normal, pointing out the new artwork from Liyue now that trade restrictions are starting to lift, and chatting about how they're expecting more foreign visitors in Ritou. It's hard not to marvel at the well kept grounds at his doing, and you wonder if there truly is a future for you live in such a perfect place.

You feel comfortable at his side, walking arm in arm like this, even if there is something keeping you a little on edge. The split second look he gave you when he interrupted your conversation with Ayaka makes your throat feel strange when you think about it. But he seems relaxed and carefree as he recounts a his most recent run in with a tanuki, and you find yourself more at ease and giggle at his story.

"Here we are! Same room as usual, though we finally got enough silk in to have new sheets and pillowcases made," he says as he opens the door for you. There is a sense a familiarity, coming to stay here a few times a year since your early teens. Though but a guest room, it's nearly as big as some of the homes in your village. It's conflicting, feeling so appreciative and admiring of the work done to accommodate you, yet also knowing that there are people you know with so little. Still, you can't help but to run your fingers over the fine silk and imagine sinking into the softness come nighttime.

You thank him for making such arrangements for your stay, but insist that the previous Sumerian cotton was more fine than anything you're used to.

"One good night's rest under these sheets and you'll never want to sleep in anything else," he insists.

"Then I cannot allow myself to get used to it," you say cheekily, and seat yourself on the soft mattress, smoothing the high quality materials of the duvet.

"You will have to if you are to marry Lord Ayato."

The words cut the lightness in the air, and suddenly that strange feeling is back from how he looked at you earlier.

"I am not inclined to be expectant of such an offer," you say, turning your head away. Part of it is true, though you know that it's also the whole reason for your visits.

"Who's to say you shouldn't be? You have Lady Ayaka's favor," he tells you in earnest, though his tone changes when he continues, "And you have mine as well."

You go warm at his words, though he means it not as flattery, but as fact. It's no secret that despite being a housekeeper, he is Lord Ayato's closest friend. Thoma's good word has just as much power as Ayaka's in this regard.

"I've done nothing but let my family impose my presence to earn such favor," you state, still refusing to look his way.

You can hear the rustle of his clothes as he takes a step towards you. Your eyes slowly trail over to him, though you can't bear to look at his face.

"We host dozens of others with the same intentions, though none quite like you. You don't seek luxury, in fact, I don't think you like it all that much. But you have a strong connection and sense of duty to your people," he says and your eyes shoot up to meet his.

You've never felt so seen than under the softness in his green eyes. Something heavy sits in your throat, rendering you unable to respond to his analysis.

"Lady Ayaka senses this as well. I don't think she would have opened up to you in such a way if she didn't."

"You were-" You go to call him out for eavesdropping, but he stops you.

"I'm glad she has another friend in you. Just," he sighs, "Just be easy with her if she brings up the traveler again."

You harden your stare at him now. Now you understand the look he had given you when he intruded. You know the reason behind the concern, but-

"Just because she's an ojou-sama doesn't mean she isn't allowed to have a crush," you state plainly. You're not nearly as high of status, but you understand the position she's in, what's expected of her, and how it's humanly impossible to fight the way she must truly feel.

"I didn't mean-" He starts to defend himself, but you quickly stand up and take a step towards him, making him back up.

"Can't a girl fantasize? We already have to sacrifice our desires, our spirits, our freedom just for being born into our positions. Is it so much to be a little selfish and think about love for ourselves?" You lament as you keep moving towards him until he's backed into the wall. He meets your hard gaze, his eyes quickly taking in your expression. He seems taken aback, yet there's an understanding as he reads you.

"But you wouldn't know anything about being selfish: Thoma the kind. Thoma the chivalrous. Thoma the magnanimous," you say almost tauntingly as you relent your stance and move back to allow him the air. Of course someone like him wouldn't be able to relate-

"You're wrong."

Your heart stops at the staunchness in his voice. In all your years, you've never heard him speak with such roughness. He takes a long stride away from the wall and back into your space, the usual softness in his face replaced with something darker. There's still a hint of his usual playfulness, but something about his demeanor sends a chill up your spine.

"I'm envious. I could be selfish, too," he tells you without breaking his eyes from yours. He doesn't stop his movement towards you. You step back. He steps forward again. Again, and again until the back of your knees hit the bed. He doesn't stop, looming closer to your face until you're forced to sit, and still, he does not stop.

"I want to be selfish," he declares in a low voice.

He finally halts just an inch away from his nose touching yours. Your breath moves fast and heavy through your chest, speeding up the accumulation of heat taking over your body. Though just as you start to lean up towards him, he pulls away.

"Sorry, I-"

"Show me," you say in a small voice, almost like a plea as you pinch his jacket to keep him getting further.

"I shouldn't. You're- I'm-" He hesitates, still the dutiful Thoma after all.

You give a light tug, beckoning him closer. His sight drops to your lips, and finds himself locked into your gravity.

"Be selfish," you permit, the words ghosting his parted lips.

And he submits. Claiming your lips for himself, he slots into you, taking in a moment to connect with you in such a way. His knee slides up onto the bed and next to your hip as he grabs the sides of your face, pulling you and pushing himself closer and closer until you have to wrap your arms around him to stay upright - A futile effort, as he leans into you more, dipping his tongue into your mouth and brushing the tip against yours. You fall back on the bed, bringing him flush against you as you continue your heated kiss, enjoying this feeling being trapped between him and the mattress.

He moans into your mouth, making you whimper as your hips squirm beneath his weight. You've never felt anything quite like this. The books you've read have always described kissing as something sweet and sacred, but this- this feels much more frantic, like you need so much more. Thoma's thumbs brush against your cheeks as he moans into you again before pulling back.

"We should-"

But you don't let him speak, pulling him by the jacket back to your lips and greedily chasing his tongue with yours. Your knees wiggle out from under him, drawing your legs out to hook around his thighs and squeeze his lower half closer to you.

"Mmmph!" He groans and forces himself to stop kissing you, much to your annoyance. He struggles against your pleas for more, breath fast and heavy as he stares at you closely.

"We can't. I can't," he says, though you know that's not what he wants.

"I told you: show me. Show me more," you demand, moving your hands to tangle in his golden hair and loosening the tie that holds it back. Your fingertips graze through his roots, making his eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

He drops his head to the side of yours, breath rousing the sensitive skin of your neck and heating up your ear. You feel his lips brush against the lobe, and you squeeze your legs just a little tighter around him.

"I won't be able to stop," he says right into your ear, the waves of his voice sending a tremor all the way down to your core. You gasp, arching your chest to him as you grip into his hair.

"Then don't. Please, just this once."

You want to tell him to be selfish again, but there's no need. He lifts himself up, and you realize just how much heat you've generated between the two of you when the air hits you. Perhaps a result of his Vision, but your body feels like a forest catching fire, slowly building more and more until it's unbearable. He must be feeling it too when he strips off his jacket and peels off the black shirt beneath, giving you a front row view of his lean muscular body, arms and shoulders defined by his work with the polearm. He drops his belt and leather tasset, and throws off his gloves, leaving him just in his pants when he leans back down to kiss you again.

Surely you've seen men bathing and frolicking in the rivers before, but you've never been so close to one so bare. Your arms encircle him when he settles his bare chest against yours, lost in the savor of your lips. His skin is smooth and smells of ginger scented soap when his kisses trail down your chin and to your neck. You gasp at the torturously pleasurable jolts you get when his tongue teases your pulse, exposing more of the vulnerable skin to him as you bury your face to his shoulder. Your fingertips grip into the muscles of his back, desperately clinging on as you let the heat consume you.

You whimper his name over and over, encouraging him to give you more of whatever this is. You're no stranger to touching yourself at night, but your own fingers have never felt anything quite like his hips settled between your legs, moving the hardness in his pants against your barely covered sex that's been nearly exposed by the shifting of your robes. Your own hips move as well, seeking pressure and rousing on that one spot that makes your voice come up high and airy.

"Does it feel good?" Thoma asks against your collarbone, pulling at the gap between your robes to expose more skin.

"Yes," you rasp as his lips get closer to the valley of your breasts.

"Can I?" He tugs more at the opening of your robe.

You shut your eyes, feeling shy, but wanting more of what he's giving. You utter your consent and cover your face with your hands when he pulls apart the fabric and reveals your bare chest to him. He makes a throaty sound and runs his hands down the sides of your sternum, thumbs brushing over your nipples in passing, making you gasp and shiver. He does this again and again until you're whimpering and writhing beneath him, and ultimately settles his hands to continually roll your buds under his thumbs.

Eventually, desire and pleasure takes over your shyness, and you drop your hands in favor of once again tangling themselves in his hair. Your fingers move fervently through his loosened locks, knocking his headband off place until he takes a second to fling it to the side. He looks down at you for a moment, blonde hair wild and pushed around, showing a little bit of his forehead to you for the first time. Your cheeks go impossibly warmer at the sight.

"You're beautiful," you say with a light smile, and giggle when his green eyes change from drunk and heavy, to wide in surprise.

"I should be saying that to you first," he says back, matching your smile. His gaze softens and he move his face to kiss you again, though cut short when he speaks again.

"Can I be even more selfish with you?"

You nod, wanting nothing more.

He smothers his face into your neck and molds his body to yours, taking a moment to memorize this feeling.

"Even if we just pretend," he whispers and trails off, a little apprehensive as to what he'll say next. You stroke his hair to coax him into saying whatever prehensile thing he has on his mind.

"Don't marry my lord," he tells you. "Don't marry anyone."

Your heart swells and thumps at the plea. You squeeze him with your arms and kiss the top of his head sweetly.

"Okay," you agree quietly.

"Be mine. Just be mine," he mutters and presses his nose even harder into your skin.

"All yours," you assure him and continue to run gentle touches up and down his spine. He inhales long and deep, then shifts to hover above your again. Sincere green eyes study your face as you stare back at him, a silent understanding passing in the intentional and meaningful look.

Then he indulges, letting his head drop down to your chest, taking one of your sensitive pebbled nipples between his lips. Your mouth falls open, unable to hold back the breathy moans as flashes of need sear your core. He teases the other bud between his fingertips, and you swear your body might break from how much you're trembling from the tightness in your belly. Your legs kick and squirm around his thighs, feverishly searching for relief by rubbing your aching clit on his hardon in his pants.

His name comes out in strings from your lips, begging for something that you're not quite sure of but he has you believing in. Your eyes roll and flutter with each flick of his tongue and jolt of his hips against you. You grab at his back, stifling him into your chest as he sucks even harder at your teat.

He fights your hold to come up for a breath, but instantly dives back into kiss you. He shifts his body, and finally you find that sweet reprieve you had been so desperately seeking. His hips rut against you, moving in rhythm with yours as you stimulate yourself on his hard, covered cock. The friction has you whining and begging muffled pleas into his mouth, though he's also using your kiss to suppress his own voice.

He groans into you, tongue messily teasing yours. The pace of his hips pick up, grinding himself against the heat between your legs. Both of you tremble and heave. You can feel the head of his cock straining through his paints and catching against your swollen, aching nub.

"Thoma, p-please. Something is- If you keep moving like that," you stutter between moans.

"Gonna cum for me? Please cum for me. Gonna make me cum too," he huffs and moves his hips even faster, determined to hear you cry out even more.

"I think- Ohhh! Oh!"

You don't know what's coming, but when it does come, you know. Your eyes screw shut, your own hips jerking up to meet his and ride out your peak, shockwaves of ecstacy rippling through you again and again with the friction of your movements. He lets out something between a grunt and a growl, shoving his face back into the crook of your neck as a sticky wetness soaks your underwear. His body shudders against yours, making you whimper from the sensitivity and his hot breath at your skin.

Eventually, he relaxes his weight onto you, placing a light kiss to your neck without moving his head. He's a little heavy, but it feels nice. Your hold on him lightens, though you still keep your arms around him, and return his affection with a kiss to his forehead.

"I like the selfish side of you," you mutter softly, breaking the quiet afterglow.

"I can be worse, you know," he says, voice a little groggy.

You believe him, smiling to yourself when you tell him, "You'll have to show me."

He lifts his head to kiss your lips, only breaking to say, "When you're all mine, for real."

"When I'm all yours," you promise.

You both are tired from the experience. Some time passes by before you move to lay on the bed properly. The Liyuese silk feels just as Thoma had described, though your head seems to much prefer the comfort of his chest than the luxurious down pillow. He sleepily strokes your hair and murmurs sweetness on your crown. There will be out-turns to follow this yield to desire, but right now, everything is perfect and for once, you're okay with that.

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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Just things from HQ!! that I love because sometimes I need to remember what really got me into the series:

When Hinata sees the poster of himself that Yachi made. I sob like a baby every time.

All the Brazil foreshadowing

Hinata's bathroom songs. Reminds me of my friends and I taking karate in preschool and learning Japanese and always giggling at "benjo."

Takeda-sensei being so dedicated to bringing out the full potential of the team. Like, the team wouldn't have Ukai, or the Nekoma connection, or all of the training in Tokyo, - read: everything necessary for them to make it to nationals - if not for him. His words of encouragement to Hinata and Kageyama after they lost to Seijoh? Chills every time I read it.

And Ukai. Takes on. A second job. That has him up before sunrise. Just to coach these high schoolers.

The fact that Saeko stayed and drank with the coaches when she drove Hinata and Kageyama to Tokyo.

In the anime, when Kuroo is teasing Kenma for the face he makes when watching Hinata play and Kenma's like "I don't make a face" and Kuroo says, "You do." There's this like half beat pause before Kenma comes back with "Do not" and idk why but the added pause cracks me up.

Nishinoya choosing Karasuno for the uniforms. This is top tier Libra behavior and I would do the same.

Every time Kyoutani spikes the ball and the animation does t h e t h i n g

The scene where Oikawa makes everyone cry while cleaning up the gym and Makki's like "No! Don't spoil the mood!"

Aone and Hinata's mutual respect for one another is just like. the absolute. cutest. shit. ever.

The visual of giant Ushijima crushing Hinata and Tsukishima to the ground with his hands.

When Hinata re-crowns Kageyama as King of the Court. I'm trying not to cry rn thinking about it.

When Kageyama pretty much has a mental breakdown on the court from seeing Kunimi move quickly. Yes, I know why he was freaking out, but it's still really funny to me.

Everything about Kenma and Hinata's friendship. I can't even elaborate or else I'll explode.

When Hinata gets hit in the balls at the first-year training camp.

The fact that Kenma and Tora had dark hair as first years, but then have bleached hair as second years. Like, did they decide to do it together? Did Tora just show up one day with gloves and foil and was like "now that we're friends, bleach your hair with me."

We get to see the other characters relationships with each other, not just the ones pertaining to the main characters. Like Oikawa and Iwa, Kuroo and Yaku, Yachi and Kiyoko, Atsumu and Kita, Tendou and Ushijima, etc.

The whole banding together of the team to help dumbasses Kageyama, Hinata, Nishinoya, and Tanaka pass their exams. The fact that Kageyama is even included in this group. The fact that both main characters are stupid. I laugh every time.

Opposing team members thinking Nishinoya is really cool

Everything about the timeskip. Everything. The teams. The jobs. Where everyone ended up. Makes me warm and happy inside.

I legit love every character and could go on a rant on why for every single one. All of them. Even Washijo. Furudate is a master of likability and relatability.

"What will you become tomorrow?"

#for me #there was a discussion abt hyperfixation slippings #i think its time for me to do a rewatch

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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Oddly specific Kyoutani on Instagram headcanons:

The most amount of followers he's had and ever will have is 230

He has 2 pictures and one doesn't even have a caption

He follows 21 accounts - one being yours, the others are mostly accounts that repost funny dog vids, and a Russian mechanics meme page

He's in a Seijoh group chat within the app, but only follows Watari

SKNHSHA KIKI THE AMOUNT OF JOY THIS BRINGS ME IS INMENSURABLE

if i may add…

one of the two pictures is of the seijoh volleyball court, empty with a lone volleyball in the frame (it’s an old pic— the kind that u post when u first get instagram and don’t know what to do with it)

that’s also the picture without a caption

the second one is of him and his dog that you took before you started dating when you went on a morning hike

he tagged you in the picture and that’s the only trace of you in his profile

literally only goes on instagram like twice a year, or whenever he sees that you posted/tagged him (he turned on your post notifications so he wouldn’t miss anything important )

#BYE WHY IS THIS SO CUTE #*screams into my hands*#jess have i told you lately that i love you

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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Kyoutani Kentarou loves like a lake on a summer day.

Love was never something he wanted or sought after. Crushes were just something he didn't get. His teammates seemed to always be talking about sex and relationships, and while he'd make the occasional mental note on someone's attractiveness, he wasn't at all interested in dividing up his time for someone else. Whether he would find love or not, whatever. Even after high school and he'd let himself be flirted with at parties and bars, partaking in one night stands and a short-lived first attempt at monogamy, he never worried about it.

Perhaps, he should have.

That's what he thinks when he first meets you, a friend of Hanamaki and Matsukawa's who is entirely too good for him. Too pretty. Too interesting. Too charming - something about you screaming that you are not in short of love or any stranger to it. Even if he were good with words, he wouldn't know what to say to you, so he doesn't say much at all. Though it doesn't stop you from becoming his 219th Instagram follower in the proceeding days.

He doesn't know if he should be thankful or frightened that you can tell he's intrigued by you from the lack of feedback he gives you. It's more than confidence, and less than greed - something that beckons him that seems solid and tangible, yet if he were to try and hold it in his hands, he can't. And it unnerves him.

So you meet him 99 percent of the way, not pushing or pulling, not threatening to walk the other way, just waiting for him to take the final step. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve such favored treatment, and surely you will be disappointed when you find out that you laid out all your cards just for him, but he says 'fuck it,' and though he tells himself it's no big deal if it doesn't work out, he hopes by some miracle that it will.

Turns out he never needed a miracle, he just needed you. From the day Kentarou decided to let you in, not a day goes by without him needing you - needing to feel you in his bed, needing you to eat a meal with him, needing to show you a picture of a dog he saw on his daily run. He wonders why he was so hesitant to know you like this. You fit so perfectly - against his side when you sleep, and in his life.

If Kentarou had known love was like this, he would have wanted it all along. All he had ever known was his parents fighting, Yahaba constantly getting nagged at by some girl in high school, and Koganegawa complaining about getting ghosted, again. What makes you so different? What makes what he has with you so different?

The more he tries to pin down the answer, the more of you he sees, and the deeper he falls. He notices that your love seems to overflow, with him, with your friends, with the animals you encounter to the bugs on the ground, from your eyes, from your lips and fingertips, onto pages and into songs. Even when you're mad at him, you curl right up against his chest and cling to him as you pout, forcing him to wrap his strong arms around you and apologize, because really, what else can he do?

"Never thought you'd be the one to give a dating pep talk. You're nicer than I thought," Tsukishima says all too honestly with his usual provoking tone one day at practice, right after Kentarou had convinced Koganegawa that his most recent Tinder failure was the best thing to ever happen to him. Though his advice was rough and blunt, the giant setter found meaning in comfort in his words and thanked him.

Despite his bespectacled teammate's prodding, he finds himself not irritated, but in agreement. When did he become so sympathetic? He wonders for the last few hours of practice. He wonders on the train ride home. He wonders all the way up until moment he opens the front door to your shared apartment, and sees you turn your head from your spot on the couch, your face illuminating at the sight of him as you scramble to get up to greet him by flinging your arms around him before he can even get out the first syllable of 'tadaima.'

Ah, yes.

Your love is like the ceaseless, unabating energy of the sun, generating and radiating from every aspect of your being whether or not there's anything to consume your spirit. It spawns beauty like blooms on the flora and provides comfort to even those considered cold of blood. It's something he could never even dare to emulate, but oddly, Kyoutani Kentarou loves like a lake on a summer day, absorbing the most of your light before reflecting the rest onto those who find refreshment in and around his surface - all around a little warmer and more inviting under your phosphorescence.

#sorry for the heart vomit #idk i got a big ol soft spot for him recently

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nishiannoya · 2 years

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ʀᴀᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ

18+ only

hinata shoyo x f!reader, dubcon, omega!reader, a/b/o, knotting, breeding, possessive, scent kink (?), hint at slipping into subspace, mention of pups, reader is described as small (meant in a 'we're a sexually dimorphic species in this universe' way), i didn't proofread this sorry, im half asleep writing and posting this

You're surprised when you come onto the MSBY Black Jackals team as an athletic trainer and meet someone who's still unpresented, yet alone someone who most likely will not present as alpha based on his stature. However, you quickly learn not to be concerned over Hinata Shoyo being dwarfed amongst all the alpha players - he's rather fearsome in practice and at play, and the fact that he's able to strike such a presence despite his status makes him all the more impressive. He's become your favorite player to meet with and talk to, finding it easy to converse with him without worrying that you might be doing something to unintentionally seduce him, but also genuinely enjoying your time spent with the lively redhead.

Still, as an omega, you feel a little lonely and nervous at times being surrounded by all these hot-blooded alphas. While you trust your suppressants, you're cautious to keep your interactions with all the players at arm's length. You're not ignorant to Miya's comments about how small you are, Bokuto always asking you to compare hand sizes, and even the occasional telling pat on the head from Sakusa. Although being mated to a pro-athlete would be ideal for some, it's just not something you're ready for despite what your body might try to tell you on those days you're a few hours late in taking your suppressants - a little predicament you find yourself in right now as you rush out the door after you had checked your phone to see a message from one of the managers.

Strangely, Hinata had missed the last few days at practice. He's easily one of the healthiest members of the team, following a balanced diet and mental focus routines long before meeting with any trainers and nutritionists. In fact, you two had just discussed it last week when you asked him what kind of protein shakes he likes. You told him that you can't find any that taste good, but you want to up your protein and fat intake for when you do eventually find a mate. He didn't seem ill then, though you suppose a virus could get the best of anyone's defenses.

His apartment is apparently not too far from yours - hence the manager asking you to check on him on your way to the gymnasium. You follow the directions on your maps app, the light nagging in the back of your mind that you forgot to take your suppressants gets pushed away by the fact that it's just Hinata that you're going to go see - you can always be a few minutes late to work to go back home after you make sure he's alive and well. You wish he would just respond to the text you sent him and then you could be on your way. But it's pretty early, and the sun is barely rising when you climb the steps to the second floor of the complex.

It feels strange knocking on his door so early in the morning. You wonder if nobody has heard from him and that perhaps it would have made more sense for one of his teammates to do a wellness check. You wouldn't consider yourself close to Hinata, and you don't think he would either other than a typical friendly work relationship. You suppose it's part of your job though, and that's what you tell yourself to shake off any awkwardness you're starting to feel as you rap your index and middle knuckles lightly to his door.

Something makes your nose twitch that you can't quite place, but then you hear the footsteps and movement behind the door. There's a click and suddenly the door is wide open, and you fear that you have the wrong unit. You're met with huge, hungry brown eyes that seem to shimmer with excitement when they land on you, and a glimpse of the pink tip of this person's tongue running across his bottom lip. Your heart stills. This could be quite the fuck up.

"Food," says the man in front of you in a strained voice. "Please tell me you have food."

"Uh," you utter dumbly, and realize that it is Hinata, looking rather haggard. Perhaps he is sick, though aside from the flush of his tanned skin and mess of his orange locks, he looks healthier than ever in his tank top and gym shorts. You might be hallucinating, but it looks like he somehow put on a couple kilos in muscle since you saw him last week, and maybe more than a few centimeters in height as well. No. Maybe you just underestimated his actual size. Maybe his doorframe is just small.

"No food," you manage to say once you collect yourself, choosing to blame the morning for your brain malfunctioning. "Just checking to-"

You're cut off with his groan and pitiful whimper as he turns around and slinks back into his apartment. He leaves the door wide open, leaving you confused as to if he's inviting you in or not. You peek your head inside and hear what sounds precisely like a body flopping onto the cushions of a couch. Quickly you step inside and slip off your shoes, remembering to close the door behind you.

You call his name, making your way out of the entry hall and into the kitchen. There's empty food wrappers and containers all over the counter, and the pantry door is open to display barren shelves other than some spices. Something tells you to leave- no, stay- no, leave- no-

"So hungry," you hear Hinata groan that leads you to him lying face down, legs sticking out comically off the arm of the couch in a way that makes you wonder if he's even comfortable.

"Are you feeling okay?" You ask, crouching down to eye level with him. His cheek is smushed against the cushion, face contorted in a pout. He really doesn't seem sick, you think. If anything it reminds you of when you're hormonal. Your nose twitches again, and you realize that it's not because of all the food trash in the kitchen.

You don't know what it is that compels you to reach out to him, perhaps it's because he's adorably pitiful in this state, but your hand finds the side of his face as your thumb gently pulls at his top lip. Your eyes fly open and you go to immediately retract your hand when you catch a glimpse of the fangs that must be painfully pushing to find room in his gums.

"I-"

You try to scramble up and away, but one of his hands latches onto your forearm, forcing you to fall forward to your knees. Your face is mere inches away from his as he shifts to push himself up and bring the underside of your wrist pressed directly to his nose, making you gasp as he breathes in deep, your heart and his eyes fluttering at the action.

"You smell- Good. And sweet," he mutters, facial muscles twitching. "Hungry. I'm so hungry."

Your breath quickens, feeling some kind of primal instinct to flee or freeze like he's going to make a meal of you. You know there's no slipping out of his firm hold on you, so you shakily gulp down the anxious feelings starting to knock at your chest.

If what you think is happening, is happening, then you're fucked. So fucked. Hinata inhales again, this time running his tongue over the sensitive thin skin of your wrist. He whines, needing more than just the faint taste of your scent. His breath nearly steams off the wet patch of skin. A shiver creeps down your spine and has you reconsidering that maybe being completely fucked isn't be such a bad thing. Yes- No- Yes, get out- No, let this happen.

His eyes snap open, brown irises completely blown black and you realize that you don't have a choice. He pushes himself off the couch, slithering toward you on the ground as you slowly scoot backwards- to make room? To make a desperate attempt at putting some distance between you? It really doesn't matter. You can't take your eyes off him, feeling like prey who will certainly get devoured the moment your attention breaks.

"Hinata," you say his name despite your heart feeling like it's not pumping any oxygen, or maybe too much oxygen. Every alarm in your body is going off- the good ones, the bad ones, all screaming at you- as he crawls closer and closer until his knees are pinching your hips and his nose is nearly touching yours. You bite the inside of your bottom lip in anticipation. Heat rolls off his body, and suddenly you're aware of a scent- spicy, tangy like a high note penetrating your olfactory senses in a way that makes your brain buzz all the way out to the very tips of your nervous system.

His head dips to the side and he presses his nose into your neck right below your ear. You cry out at the sensation, making him groan in return. His breath is heavy on your skin, every huff making you feel hotter and hotter until you grow agitated at your clothes for feeling like they're suffocating you. He licks at the source of your sweet, alluring scent, fangs grazing as if he wants to bite down. Your skin raises, vision struggles to stay focused. It's too hot. Everything is suddenly way too hot.

"P-Please."

You don't know of what you beg for. Even if he let you go at this point, you wouldn't move away from him. He lifts his head at your plea, a pained expression on his face that tells you that at least a little bit of the usual Hinata is still in there.

"Sorry, I'm just so- You smell so good. I want-" He pants, unable to make sense of what's going on with his body and instincts. You can feel the heat of his breath on your lips as he seems to dance around the idea of consuming you, drawing his face in closer and pulling away. Closer and away. Closer and-

You decide for the both of you, or more your desire takes over as you crash your lips onto his, messy and hasty, tongue and teeth with desperate moans and cries exchanged in between. Your ankles lock behind his knees and fingers pull at the back of his neck, bringing him to his elbows as to not completely crush you beneath him as you lose yourself in chasing his tongue with yours. It's wet and filthy and noisy and oh so overwhelmingly hot that you both don't even know whose clothes you're tearing at- just wanting them gone and out of the way.

You growl and he snarls. No logic, just need. The hasty, clumsy, heated battle to get naked takes longer than what would please either of you, though neither of you are willing to pull away from each other's lips or stop grinding for long enough to fully get rid of the garments. You can't help it, feeling the large bulge of his cock nearly has you falling over the edge every time it catches against your clit through the layers. Both of you whine for more, yet you can't get enough of how good it feels to rub yourself on him, covering yourself in his scent.

Red marks from rough, eager fingers litter your skin and his when you're both finally bare to one another. His tanned and freckled skin shines with sweat and the glow of something molten inside him that's ready to explode. You exchange a glance, drinking in how wild he looks as he stares at you pinned beneath him, bits of orange hair stuck to his forehead while the rest is mussed from where you've been running your hands through and tugging his lips closer to yours. If there were any part of your rational brain left, you'd take a moment to find it funny how you ended up like this. But it's not funny right now, and there's a mutual understanding between both of you that every passing second that he's not buried balls deep in your throbbing cunt is more painful than the last.

"Please," you beg again. This time, you know what for. Your voice is strained, on the verge of tears from how badly you need to feel him inside you.

He pushes himself up so he can grab the backs of your knees, pushing your thighs closer and closer into your chest as his thick cock comes down onto your soaking cunt with a wet slap. You gasp at the heat that seems to radiate from his dick, making you clench as if he's already filling you up. His rough fingertips dig into your skin as you begin to writhe, desperate to get his angry, leaking, red tip aligned with your entrance.

"Please, please, ple-!"

Your voice chokes as he plunges into you, your body unwilling to take in even a small breath as if to better accommodate the size of him stretching you out. Your legs quiver around him, feeling the last threads of your sanity snapping with every bit of him that sinks further into you and starts to press on that sweet, deep spot inside.

"So fucking good," he moans, hardly able to keep his tongue in his mouth and eyes from getting lost in his head. The praise makes your head go fuzzy and your pussy gives an encouraging squeeze. You claw at his arms, needing to feel him closer and get lost in the heat of his body and scent of sweat.

He falls forward to his hands on either side of your head, forcing the last bit of him in besides the beginning swell of his knot, and nearly knocking the rest of your breath from you. It stings so deliciously sweet as your cunt drools in excess to assist with the size. His hips start moving, perhaps maybe with a little intent on taking it slow. However, that quickly dissolves as every thrust draws the sweetest little cries from your lips and urges him lose himself in the sounds of your pleasure, wanting to hear more, more, more.

He's not so quiet himself, groaning and growling every time your pussy sinfully grips around him, as if consciously trying to milk him directly into your womb. The thought makes him go wild, picking up the pace and pressing into you even further. You're completely folded beneath him, legs dangling helplessly over his shoulders. Your own slick coats your thighs, his stomach, his taught and heavy balls, and onto the floor underneath your hips that are completely lifted at this point. It's downright nasty, yet every lewd squelch and wet slap of skin makes you squeeze tighter on him, muscles shaking from all the tension.

"Gonna make you mine. All mine. They can't have you. All fucking mine," he huffs as he seeks out the sweet smell on your neck again, making you keen and writhe with a wave of painfully strong need flushing through your body.

"You want it. You want that, little omega."

He's not asking you. He's telling you. And yes, you do want it. You've never wanted anything so fucking bad in your life. Tears prickle in your eyes from how badly you want it- to completely belong to someone. To be completely consumed by him.

"Omega," he says breathlessly and you swear you can feel yourself slipping into some place hazy at the endearment, and the push of his cock driving you deeper. It sounds so sweet, feels so good that you sob and wrap your arms around him tighter.

Tale as old as time. Just like you had been told your entire life: You'll know when you know. And right now, there's no doubt in your mind, and no mind to even doubt. You were made for this. You were made for him.

"Alpha," you whimper into his skin. "All yours, alpha. Please, make me all yours."

It doesn't matter that you thought of him as nothing more than a coworker mere minutes ago. It doesn't matter that you were convinced you weren't ready for a mate yet. It doesn't matter that he's just recently come into his fully mature self. You know, and all that matters is that he knows as well.

He groans contentedly into your neck, the rumble of the sound tickling your ears and flooding your body with more heat. You swear you feel his cock grow even harder and more swollen inside you as his thrusts get stronger, as if he intends to hit the deepest spot inside of with every pump.

"Fuck- Yeah, mine. All fucking mine. Gonna make you- Gonna-"

He rambles on, snarling and lost in the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, drunk on the lewd sounds of his rhythmic ruts. He moves his forehead to rest on yours, taking the occasional opportunity to try and swallow your cries. Every swipe of his tongue on yours makes your pussy flutter and has him pushing you harder into the floor.

"Alpha, please. Knot- Your knot. Please cum. Please- Pups. Your pups," you sob on his lips, feeling teased by the bulbous swell of his knot knocking against your swollen lips and clit. "Need you. Need all of you."

Your plea pulls a guttural growl from him, his facial muscles twisting and teeth clenching as he works to give you everything you need. Faster and faster his hips move, shoving your bodies across the floor and making your shoulders burn with each thrust, though it doesn't compare to the burn in your core- the uncomfortably tight coil that begs to be snapped.

"Mine. My pups. Fuck- You're Gonna- Yeah, you're gonna be all mine. Full of- Full of me- mine."

He's gone, lost in a single thought, once again seeking your scent. He hastily moves his hands to grip into your hair, needing to hold onto something- anything as he chases fulfillment.

You cry and beg for more- for his knot, for his cum, for his pups, feeling so helpless for needing to be full of him so you know that you're truly his. His cock continues to piston in and out of your sloppy cunt, each one with the power and intent behind it to stuff you full. With one last hard thrust, his knot bullies its way inside. Your eyes go wide, nails scrambling to find hold on his back and shoulders as if to transmit some of the pain of the stretch. Though the discomfort is only temporary, quickly fading into pleasure and reminding you that you were born to take him.

"Take my knot so fucking good. That's my girl. My omega," he coos just before melting into the full enveloping heat of your cunt.

It feels so hot. So fucking good that you wish you could stay like this, stuffed full of him, for the remainder of your days. You truly were born for this, designed by the gods to serve this man, your alpha, with a place to dump his seed.

"You ready? Ready to- oh fuck- Ready to take my cum? Gonna make you- Gonna be so full- All me. All mine. Oh fuck- oh fuck-"

All it takes is a few more of your sweet squeezes at his words for him to come bursting inside of you- cum shooting so hard that you can feel it like a faucet head against that deliciously deep spot against your walls, hot and sticky and oh so satiating as it fills you until you're overflowing and spilling even around the plug of his cock. Your eyes roll shut, the sound of his broken howls of pleasure are nearly drowned out by the state of bliss you're thrust into. Your belly feels so warm, so good, so pleased with the amount of spend that paints you.

It's a few minutes of both of you trying to catch your breath before trying to move or speak. He finally softens enough to remove himself from you, somehow finding the strength to fall to the side and roll off of you rather than collapsing directly on top. It takes all his reserve to reach over to grab your hand and keep his eyes open to make sure you're alright.

"That was- Sorry. I don't know what- I mean, it was really good. For me. I just-" He fumbles through the fog of his brain, breath still a bit haggard. "Are you okay?"

You roll your head to look at him, this boy, this man, this alpha- your alpha that you only knew on a casual level just moments before. You smile, giving his hand a light squeeze. You're already completely enamoured.

"Might be a little sore," you giggle.

"Sorry," he winces. "I have a bed. Don't think I can get up though. So-"

Right on cue, his stomach let's out a long and loud rumble, making his cheeks glow bright red.

"Give me a minute. I'll order something to be delivered," you say as you give your legs a testing stretch.

"You're the best. I'm just gonna...close my..."

And just like that, he's completely passed out naked on his floor. You giggle, scooting over to give an affectionate little peck to his sweaty forehead that makes the corner of his lip twitch into a momentary smile.

There will be time later to mull over the details and talk about the situation, but for now, you study the cute sleeping face of Hinata Shoyo and embrace the warm, secure feeling coursing through your body.

#i did no research #but yeah #i figured he'd be hungry going through that #idk dont look at me #tw a/b/o #tw dubcon #tw breeding #tw omegaverse #tw knotting #this was way longer than intended

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