#learning slowly that my coworkers are falling for me is SO fun

[v3nusxsky]

Dont tempt me| NSFW

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Authors note~ here’s some content for my lovely lady lesso. This could be absolutely poor quality as I'm exhausted and it will not be proof read so I apologise for any mistake but they are all mine :)*

Trigger warnings ~ dom/sub begging fingering oral overstimulation accidental mommy kink praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ "fuck you" ... "would you?"

Since the merger of the school for good and the school for evil, the environment has been reflecting the mood swings of a teenager. Good and evil now learning to co-exist and lean on each other. Baby steps of course. That's where you come in. You were hired to teach literature for both Evers and Nevers. One of the first teachers to have a mixed class. Yet you were thriving. Your students seemed to bond well with you, rather engaging in the lessons as you tried to cater to everyone's interests while sticking to the curriculum. It was truly magical to see the students slowly but surely not want to kill each other. You hadn't been brave enough to assign any mixed group work projects yet tho. That for sure would cause bloodshed, not particularly something you wanted to deal with in your first semester.

With the Evers, professor Dovey stood with them. Her beauty and pristine gracefulness shone through her joyous personality. Truly a joy to be around. Should anyone ever need cheering up, you'd definitely send them to Dovey. Clarissa Dovey, Dean for good used her powers to comfort struggling students the most. Instantly you could spot how certain students would seek her out in a room. She made them feel safe. A smile and a hug could go a long way.

Then there's her counterpart, Lady Leonora Lesso, Dean of evil. Now imagine the complete opposite of Dovey. Yep that's her. Quite a complex human. That's what drew you in if your truly honest. She's so guarded, you just want to know more. Often you could find her staking the halls like a fox hunting it's prey. Despite the merger, students still feared her. You'd heard stories of a doom room. One with some rather interesting attributes. Although probably not the desired effect of the room, you ached to visit, to just experience it one time. Two consenting adults could have so much fun in there. The thought causing a flush to adorn your cheeks. She was a coworker for heavens sake. The thoughts of becoming Lesso's prey only grew with time. Little did you know, you were quite the curious creature to the red head. She longed to clip your innocent white wings, and watch you fall under her spell. This is what leads you to the current moment.

The past few weeks had become some what of a game between you and the dean of evil. It all started when she interrupted a lesson of yours as you were teaching one of your favourite Shakespearean plays. Macbeth. The particular passage where you were asking your class to asses her body language and what that implied. Lesso smirked and offered to give a real demonstration for the students. "After all some students learn visually isn't that right Miss y/l/n"

She revealed in your reaction, immediately starting the cat and mouse game. Or rather the fox and her dove. Pay back had been sweet, of course you had to be mad to challenge Leonora but still you did so anyway. This is exactly what lead you to her office after hours. You should be marking your students essays on Lady Macbeth however, a black raven swooped in, narrowly missing your head while dropping a piece of parchment before leaving again. You carefully untied the bow and instantly recognised the neat cursive penmanship.

Does my dove give up? I've been eagerly awaiting your next move. I expected more of you y/n. At least give me a challenge.

The fox.

As you read you could practically see her lips curling up into her famous smirk. She signed it as the name you'd accidentally given her. In a lesson you had with first years you we're discussing a descriptive words to describe a fox. Only when a few students began to give answers such as "sly" "sneaky" "feisty" "stealthy" did one student stutter "lesso." You couldn't help but agree. She did rather match the description so you wrote it with the rest. At that moment you heard a chuckle. The fox herself stood in your doorway. "Miss y/l/n, you think I'm a fox? Then what are you? The innocent dove?" She taunted you watching the blush appear that you desperately tried to fight off. "Lesso, how lovely of you to join us. Did you need something?" You deadpanned hoping to avoid the feelings stirring in you at the pet names.

You definitely had feelings for the women. But she was infuriatingly untouchable. No matter your best attempts you couldn't achieve the level of flustering her that she did on you. Which is why you decided to get brave. Parchment in hand you stormed your way down to Lesso's office. Anxiety rolling off you in waves at your plan. You were most definitely going to get killed. But death by her stunning hands? Well worth it.

When you arrived at her door you bypassed knocking and just waltzed in. The women sitting at her desk busily working away. She didn't even spare you a glance as you entered. "Now dove what are you doing in here?" She mumbled seemingly very uninterested in your presence. Her eyes never stopped scanning her work and he quill scribbling down words in her beautiful cursive penmanship.

"What is this game lesso? Is it anything to you? Just fun. Why do you keep messing with me during my lesson times. What was with the raven? Miss me that much huh" you were spiralling, desperate for some kind of reaction. "Maybe I'm making you wait fox maybe I'm busy" you finished eyes blaring with determination.

"Miss y/n I'm rather busy-" she tried only to be cut off by you approaching her and crushing your lips to hers in a bruising kiss. Waiting for the moment she was desperate for more. Only then to pull back and completely remove yourself from her. "Oh such a desperate fox" you taunted her watching the frustration and desire fight for control.

"Fuck you dove!" She all but growled at you her breathing heavy.

"Would you?" You retorted unsure where this brass neck of confidence came from. Her eyes darkened in response as she leapt up and stalked towards you. Instinctively you moved backwards until you were pressed between the wall and the fox. Her grin almost sadistic, eyes black with desire. A embarrassing squeak drew from your body as she roughly claimed your lips as hers. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The cooper taste mixed with the taste of her causing a low whine to leave you.

Pulling away to gain air, she kissed nipped and sucked all over your neck. The dark purple blemishes already showing. All you could do is whine and whimper at the sensations and desperately pray your legs would hold you up. "Some innocent dove you are" she sneered after a particularly low whine left you as she nipped your pulse point, "such a response slut for me hmm" she all but cooed.

"Please" you begged not knowing if she'd comply. Completely at her mercy was not what you had planned for the night. With that you were lifted into her arms and carried to her bed. Immediately her hands working to rid you of your dress. Desperate for more skin to explore. Months of pent up desire finally coming to head. She moaned out in approval once you were stripped bare and laid out for her. Her hands trailing all over your skin. Feather light and teasing. Hickeys now adorned your neck and the tops of your breasts. Her mouth creating more bruising while her fingers stroking your breast with one had and pinching the bud with the other. Moans were flowing more freely now. But as nice as it was, it wasn't enough. Your hips jerked up in a silent plea. This was torture. You needed her. And now.

However your plea was ignored, simply moving her hand to pin your hips to the bed. You whined in response to her denial of your unasked question. "Now now dove, be a good girl and you'll get what you want. You want me to touch you hmm?" She husked out still completely enthralled with brushing your pale skin. All you could do is nod and try to be patience.

"If you want me to make touch you then I need words my slut" she purred loving how you were responding to her. Who would've knew you would be like this? Some meek little English teacher, not an ever, but not a never but a secret little minx. That fact only adding to the attraction and infatuation lesso has with  you.

"Please, please Nora I -" a moan broke your sentence off as she immediately moved her hands to your soaked folds just teasing never fully giving you anything. "Nora?" The smirk on her lips showing you she liked the nickname. "I wonder how many times you've screamed that with your own fingers between your legs wishing they were mine." She mused out loud before bringing her lips to taste you. Your aching core was dripping and the taste absolutely Devine. Her self control dwindled as she lapped you up like fine wine.

Your orgasm building faster than normal, you were no use anymore. All you could focus on his the pleasure the fox was giving. Feasting on you like there was no tomorrow. Your bundle of nerves reviving the attention it craved. "Please please fuck please I need" you whimpered as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

"You may dove. That's my good girl hmm. Such a good slut" and with those words she continued eating you like there was no tomorrow. Lapping up every drop of your essence as you tumbled off the edge and into the pools of pleasure. A whine of surprise left you as you realised Lesso wasn't done with you. Her mouth still working diligently between your soaked thighs.

"Fox i fuck what?" Your train of thought completely lost as two fingers were thrusted into your core. Immediately your walls reacting to squeeze the life from them. Fuck this women was going to kill you. She set her own brutal pace as she finger fucked you soaking in every delicious sound you made. Watching as you screwed your eyes shut and flung your head back in pleasure. The whimpers were nearly constant now. All you could do is lay there and mewl at her administrations like a cat in heat.

"Oh fuck mommy!" You all but screamed as another gush of white hot pleasure tore through you. How many orgasms had you had now? Honestly you'd lost count, all you knew was your body called for her. You didn't even know what you said until you felt her withdraw the fingers that has been bringing you pleasure. "Mommy? Oh what a little minx you are young one" she teased as you stumbled over an apology. Why did you say that. God but it had felt so good.

"No no dove don't say sorry I like it."she reassured before going back to business. Her touch was killing you. It was all too much now. You're tired battered body couldn't handle another orgasm but lesso seemed sure on forcing another. She'd rip it from your body despite the fact your exhausted. She wanted one so she'd get one. "Mommy! Please I can't! N-no m-more " you whined. Feeling the familiar feeling of the edge once more.

"You can and you will pretty girl. I want you to cum for me" and with that you tumbled over the edge with a scream of pleasure "mommy! Oh fuck god I"

The room feel silent oddly quick besides the unstable breathing from you both. Did you just? A quick peak confirmed it. You'd passed out. She'd fucked you so well your body physically couldn't handle it and shut down. The fact filling her with an unmatched sense of pride. Quickly but gently, Leonora set to work cleaning you up, carful knowing you would be sore before shifting you into her bed and wrapped the covers over you. Despite not actually being pleasured that was something that Lesso would treasure forever. In fact she wanted more. You were hers now. Her dove and she your fox.

Word count ~ 2118

*Authors note~ I haven’t wrote for lady lesso before but I’m obsessed with her character so I may write some more for her*

#lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lesso x reader #dean of evil #fanfic

[soclonely]

OC-Tober Prompt List Day 1: Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Link to OC-tober prompt list Summary: Dally is late to work at 79's clone bar on Coruscant when she tries to stop for her seasonal coffee on the first day of Autumn, but Lenani has a surprise for her! ___________

“Why are you late Dally?” Lenani hollers, tossing the apron toward her frazzled coworker. “Its almost time to open! You know it’s the first day of Fall! One of our busiest days of the year!” She shakes her head. “That’s not like you at all! Are you feeling alright? You look terrible!”

“Gee thanks.” Dally grumbles. She quickly ties the apron around her waist and looks over at the twilek. “I feel fine. I just woke up late today and couldn’t get me coffee. The line was horrendously long-”

“Ah yes. Pumpkin spice release day?”

Dally nods.”And apparently the jedi temple, senate staff, the GAR, and all of Coruscant made it there before me.” She sighs. “By the time i got there, the line was already 2 blocks long.”

Lenani rolls her eyes.“You were late to work even though you didn’t stop for coffee.” She eyes Dally knowingly. “Because you are the smart one and know that would have been irresponsible of you, right? And that waiting in a long like for an $8 seasonal coffee is not worth being late to work, hmmmm?”

“I needed my pumpkin spice!” Dally groans. She plops down onto a barstool and putting her head in her hands. “I waited in that line for one hole hour, okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I am severely disappointed in you.” Lenani crosses her arms. “Was your coffee worth being late and making ME do all of your morning work?”

“I-I didn’t get it.” Dally mutters, looking down at her feet. “By the time I got to the check out, they were all sold out.”

Lenani grins. “Well I hope you learn a valuable lesson in all of this, Dally!” She tsks. “And you think about this next time you try and come in late for a coffee!”

Dally nods, still pouting. “Never make a pit stop for coffee ever again when I am running behind, even if it is pumpkin spice.”

“Well yeah, that and I am the greatest friend in the world,” Lenani grins. She reaches under the bar as Dally glances up at her, confused. “I knew you were going to be late today and I had to drop Tann off at school earlier than usual today so,” She places a hot coffee tumbelr on top of the bar. “Ta-Da! Fresh hot pumpkin spiced coffee from your favorite place down the street! Well, fresh-ish.” She shrugs. “I thought you would be in earlier today so it might need reheating.”

Dally reaches over and takes the tumbler, sniffing the spiced aroma wafting from the opening. She slowly takes a drink and taps her feet in delight. “It's just right.” She jumps up and runs around the bar, hugging Lenani. “Thanks Nani! You really are the best!”

“I know.” Lenani smiles, giving Dally a tight squeeze. “Now if you would please hurry up and drink that! We have fun spooky season stuff to set out for the customers! We open in 20 minutes and the new decorations aren’t even unboxed yet!”

“Oh, right!” Dally quickly takes another drink of her coffee. “Let's get to it!”

#79s staff #star wars oc #oc-tober #79s clone bar #MaxRebo'sBandstand #my ocs

[writer-and-artist27]

Hi dude! I hope you're having a good day. I've been reading your works for a while now and I was wondering if you can share your opinions on Oshi no Ko and its characters (specifically Ai Hoshino). No pressure, though! If this makes you feel uncomfortable, feel free to delete this ask.

Hello to you too, anon. Doing my best to have good days if anything. Only answering this at 10:06 pm on a Saturday night because of finishing a hangout with my best guy friend and my boyfriend, so it's been going well. The question doesn't make me uncomfy at all.

My opinions on Oshi no Ko, huh...

Gotta put it under a cut from how long this answer is turning out to be.

---------------------------------

I really love it. Now at least. It took some growing pains to come to that conclusion, because some of the story beats and character decisions made in-universe need me to turn my empathy off to take it in and not be sensitive/be hurt irl. Especially with the real life research put into said story beats because knowing how much corruption/nepotism can be put into the entertainment industry really is disheartening for me as someone who writes for fun and just wants to help others feel happy in a small way too. (Let it be said when I read into the story of wrestler Hana Kimura and how it might've inspired Akane's first story - I nearly cried and still currently sympathize with Hana's mother from being triggered by watching that particular anime episode.) That's how well-written it is - when I have to take breaks and research ahead of time so I don't get thrown off guard.

Funnily enough, I first heard of it when I started reading and slowly collecting the manga for Kaguya-sama: Love is War. Aka Akasaka was already really famous even amongst my small friend group irl from how he set the standard for new romance comedy, and when Oshi no Ko's anime adaptation was announced, that's when I started seeing the first manga volume pop up in Barnes and Noble stores my boyfriend and I visited together on dates.

I was really wary at first, no thanks to my first exposure to Mengo Yokoyari's art being Scum's Wish (and how uncomfy I was watching clips of that show since I'd been made a middleman to two relationships friends had by then) and how the Internet spoiled me on how Ai was going to die; and add in how they cast Rie Takahashi - as in Mash Kyrielight - as her VA, I was also just scared. Because I love Mash thanks to Fate/Grand Order, I really respect Takahashi's work - the last thing I needed when starting Oshi no Ko was to hear Mash's voice as Ai died.

But once the anime started and my boyfriend let me listen to Idol by YOASOBI - I was a goner. More so when I found the 45510 short story that fans translated from Akasaka that let the fanbase peek into Ai.

Just like how I grew to love Mash, I ended up falling for Ai more than any other character in Oshi no Ko. And, to be completely honest, I think it's from how much I sympathize with Ai. With her desire of trying to find love that's hers because she never truly knew what it was like, I mean. While Mash reminds me of a little sister that I could've wanted, a friend I wanted to look out for, Ai reminds me of the face I sometimes feel myself putting on in public, unconsciously too, especially when working in the healthcare community.

Not everyone is truly honest with themselves. The number of times I've had to hunch into myself on the trolley when others would throw baseless comments like, "Get out of my country, Asian bitch," "You're not my nursing mother, keep your bullshit away from me," and even "You're not God's angel, you fancy hoe" - there's a reason I've started to joke about having my own mini-book of "misadventures." The jokes let me cope with the increasing amounts of bitterness I've been seeing.

I've had to learn how to put on a smile, play up an innocent image of seemingly not hearing darker drama amongst coworkers, even fake cheeriness in my voice to molecular companies over the phone when asking for materials for patient care - because even the "nicest" people can hold the most bitter pills in life. But I have to keep that kind of mask up, just to make sure I make it through another day. To make sure the people I love don't worry more than they need to.

But at the same time, whenever I offer my coworkers a massage to their shoulders, give hugs when I can on bad days - everyone keeps calling me "sweet" and "kind." And it's still hard to believe that sometimes.

Ai told the lie of "I love you" in the hopes of finding love someday. It was hard not to like her when I try to do something kind because I honestly believe it's the right thing to do while wanting to believe in the hope of finding more people who feel the same way. In the hope I can find more people I don't have to be a "cheery star" for all the time.

Because I've been hurt way too many times by falsehoods. Because I've seen enough darkness.

...I forgot where I was going with this, but let it be said the glimpse we get into the entertainment industry mixed in with the very human aspect of all the characters shown in the story - from Ai, Aqua, Ruby, Kana, Akane, Miyako, Ichigo - every single one feels real and my struggles of trying to find myself in a worklife that's had me let go three times despite my best efforts (and bullied to the point of abuse one other time too) feel all the more valid. I guess.

#anonyomous #asks #ask #vy says something #oshi no ko #personal thoughts #long post

[3s0t3ric]

The block button was made by a man, but also made for men 

This week in particular I’ve had an exceptionally profound conversation with myself about my relationship with the Internet. It is no secret that I am chronically online, however I can’t help but think of who I would be if I allowed myself to exist in the the parameters of my own head before everyone else’s. A good friend of mine once asked me what I would post on one of my favorite social media accounts if nobody followed me. The honest answer would be more of what I already post there. The different comes when I think of my accounts that everyone has access to. From that one woman in my church growing up to my current coworkers (do as I say not as I do) I have found that I am not necessarily a different person, but I am more? Expensive? 

Let me elaborate. 

In this space I have discussed above, I’ve noticed my increased vulnerability makes me more likely to share the aspects of my like that are the more time consuming and emotionally, and monetarily expensive parts of my life. My photos with my degree. The mountain I hiked (jk we drove to the top and I got a nose bleed that night from being that high up). The friends I’ve spent years with. The posts I made were not necessarily about what is in my proximity, but what I cherished the most, and what I’m most scared of losing. Not only money, but what I spend my time on. 

The first example, where I am more ? Organic? Is a curation of purely out of what I am quick to call, “a day in my life”. These consist of things like my cereal bowl I spilled down my apartment stairs (I still cannot believe I drop things this consistently) a friend of mine said “if you didn’t drop at least 3 things; did we even hang out???” I think of this every time I drop something now or posts like my new desk at my first big girl job. 

At the end of the day, who cares?

This week I have learned about the intimacy that comes with my own perception of the world around me. I stopped sharing why I was giggling at the birds outside the window that looked like they were judging a talent show of the people below they as they embark on their daily commute. The people I’m around dont seem to notice I’m smiling and I’ve stopped sharing, stopped caring who knew. 

I’ve learned sharing pieces of me will ultimately get me in trouble. The vulnerabilities of myself was soon the salt thrown in my wounds of tomorrow. Although I can identify the people doing this to me are not the majority of people, MY majority of people chose to “not make good choices” to put it very lightly. What I had disclosed to be some of my darkest fears, suddenly closed in all around me from multiple friend groups with our correlation in the past 6 months. Almost as if rehearsed, the people in my life started to dwindle, and with that so did my sense of self. 

I’m a lover not a fighter, and I’m tired of fighting for the ones I love. 

I let go. 

All at once, every seed I had once planted; now a mature tree was slowly uprooted. The soil had gone barren and the rain chose to leave this forest out of the fun. I was alone with my dirt. 

The once expensive, prized possessions in my life chose a cheap thrill. 

I must admit, I took my time to wince in pain and “lick my wounds” as a dear friend would say, but what do I look like letting one singular storm deprive me of my fruit? What do I look like giving up and falling into isolation when I am known to have a wealth; wealth of relationship, wealth of wisdom, wealth of experience. 

I sat with myself and made the conscious decision that I cannot go back. 

With this decision I acknowledge I am starting all over ago. I look at my flat land and instead of seeing loss, I see potential for what could be a drought tolerant oasis of life. The ecosystem of the past has failed, yes but it has left behind the knowledge of, in simple terms “what not to do”. 

After taking a step back, some of my internal affirmations come back. I am more blessed to have experienced the love than no love at all. I feel my heart release the tension. Those who have hurt me to a terminal point to our relationship also poured into me to some capacity, even if it’s only an example of what not to do. I made a promise to myself that I’d try not to give someone the opportunity to hurt me twice. I have to stand up for myself. 

This is because I know where I am meant to go, and this may not align with the goals others have for themselves. As my dad says, “none of us are making it out of this alive” so nothing is truly infinite, and it can be frustrating to believe otherwise. 

In good faith, I am blessed to be here, and even more blessed to know where I’ll be soon.  I cannot prove I am someone worth knowing in someone else's story.

[waka-chan-out]

Okay so I heard you were looking for requests for short stuff so do you have any headcanons for getting just. Absolutely railed by Haikyuu team captains, please and thank you. (I really love your stuff and I hope you take this!)

Rough Captain Headcanons

sub captains edition here.

you heard correctly!! (though this did not end up being very short lmaoo) i am a whore for the haikyuu captains so you’ve come to the right place. and thank you so much! i’ll take any opportunity to talk about my boys.

i included literally every single captain i could think of, including the karasuno captains after daichi and our timeskip kings. have fun.

post-timeskip, obviously.

content warnings: mostly gn! reader (but occasional fem!), lots of pet names, lots of teasing and degradation, hair pulling, spanking, three (3) creampies god i hate that word, hickies, handcuffs, etc. all of these are established relationship.

so i don’t know how to describe what exactly these headcanons are? i don’t think all of the captains are the “railing” type. however, these are basically just headcanons for when they go their hardest and either accidentally or purposefully get carried away.

Sawamura Daichi

likes to cage you under him and just lose it. will loop an arm around your waist and lift you up into him, so your back arches and he can hit the perfect angle.

will. not. let you look away. grabs your chin. pulls your hair. will move you however he needs to so he can look you in the eyes while he’s pounding into you.

“Shy now, princess?” Daichi said, tipping your chin to look at him. “Don’t hide. You look so pretty like this.” A sharp breath left your lips as he pressed his hips farther forward, grinding into you and sending a shock of pleasure through your body. “That’s it, sweetheart. Taking it so well. Let me give you what you deserve.”

Ennoshita Chikara

he’s a hair puller. like he doesn’t think much about it but he really likes pulling you by your hair back against his chest so he can whisper dirty shit in your ear. sometimes he gets a little too aggressive with it, so if you’re into that kind of thing, he’s your man.

possessive as all hell. you’re going out for drinks with coworkers? he’s leaving a hickie right at the collar of your top so everyone can see that you’re taken. coming out to dinner with his old teammates? he’s going to have an arm on you all night. loves to pull you in and remind you of things you did the night before to get you flustered.

very particular about how you’re positioned. will pin your arms above your head and readjust his grip several times. pushes your legs out of the way. grabs your jaw and moves your face where he wants you. somehow he doesn’t realize how hot that is until you tell him to his face. he’s still confused about it but has learned to love that you love it.

Chikara ran a hand up your side and let it rest in your hair for a moment before tugging hard. You gasped as he pulled it back and to the side, exposing your neck so he could leave marks as he pushed deeper inside you. You let out a whimper and tried to loop an arm around his neck but he grabbed your wrist and pinned it down.

“Patience, love. I want everyone to be able to tell I fucked you senseless.”

Yamaguchi Tadashi

he tries to dirty talk, but it always turns into praise and repeating how much he loves you.

aggressive and whiny, begging for more even though he’s the one giving it to you.

prefers when you ride him, but will do anything you ask of him. loves being told what to do. thinks you directing him to go faster or slower or a little to the left is the sexiest thing on the planet. he will fuck the life out of you if you just ask nicely.

“Harder, Tadashi,” you gasped. He grunted and snapped his hips as fast and as hard as it seems his body would let him.

“God, you’re gonna make me come. How do you feel so fucking good?” You smiled at the praise and pulled him in for a kiss. His breath hissed against your face as he continued pushing into you. You wrapped your legs tight around him and he let out a whine, pressing his face against yours. “I’m so fucking glad you’re mine.”

Oikawa Tooru

he’s a biter

likes to be lazy and dirty talks while you ride him usually, but every so often he shifts and will fuck you until tears are running out of your eyes.

will lay on top of you while you’re on your stomach, an arm looped around your neck, and just fuck you into the bedsheets. he’s wrapped up in his own little world, choking on high pitched moans and gasping for breath. like i said, he’s a biter, so you end up with marks all over your neck and shoulders. he’s just a fucking baby. the sounds he makes are so whiny and breathy it sounds like he’s the one getting destroyed instead of you.

“Ngh, fuck,” Tooru gasped. His breath was hot in your ear as you panted into the mattress. “Feel so good around me. You’re just begging for my cum, aren’t you?” You wanted to laugh and tell him you weren’t the one begging, but you couldn’t. Your breath was being torn from your lungs with every thrust. Tooru sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he pounded into you harder, letting out a soft whimper against your skin. His voice raised in pitch until he was practically whining. “Hah—gonna come soon. You feel so good.” His voice trailed off as it reached a whimper and he buried his face back against your neck, body shaking in anticipation.

Kuroo Tetsuro

spanking spanking spanking

seriously, hits it from the back and is not nice about it.

kuroo likes pulling you closer by your hips or ankles, turning you over whenever he feels like it, whatever. he just likes being able to toss you around and position you so he hits you just right every time.

“What? Trying to get away? That’s not how you take it, is it?” Kuroo grabbed your hips and yanked you flush against him. You cried out and buried your face against the bed. “There we go.” He laid a slap on your ass and laughed at the small sound you let out. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not going anywhere.”

Bokuto Koutarou

he fucks himself dumb. accidentally goes so hard he’s whining and can barely hear you if you ask him to speed up or slow down.

likes missionary because he likes being as close to you as humanly possible and it gives him the best leverage to just.....lose it. gasping against your face and babbling about how good you feel. going off of that, he has a very hard time pulling out. lord have mercy. use a condom or get on a reliable birth control because as much as he tries, he’s never going to have any self-control in the moment.

he forgets just how strong he is sometimes, which results in bruises and weak limbs and occasionally trouble walking. he always apologizes profusely and offers many kisses to make up for it even after you insist that you’re fine.

“Baby, please let me come inside you. Please. Oh my god,” Koutarou whined, tightening his grip on your thigh and snapping his hips harder.

“Yes, Kou. Please.” You brought him down into a kiss. You were both panting and Koutarou was moaning, practically vibrating against you as he got closer. He began moving erratically, pounding harder into you and making you cry out.

“M’sorry. Fuck. I’m gonna come.” His chest heaved as he thrust into you hard once, twice, and let out a long groan. You could feel him twitching inside you, hands clutching your skin so hard it was almost painful. He mumbled praise and curses and nonsense against your lips, slowing his movement until he collapsed on top of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead and tucked his face into your neck. “Thank you. I love you. Oh my god.”

Futakuchi Kenji

likes holding your legs and moving them around to see what gets the biggest reaction from you. doesn’t care what position you’re in but loves when your legs are closed and lifted so you’re extra tight around him.

his goal is to see you as desperate as possible. he’ll do whatever it takes to get your eyes rolling back, your hands clutching at anything they can grab, mindless pleading, all of it. he just wants to watch you fall apart because of him, and i gotta say, he’s good at getting his way.

“Oh, that’s it. Look at you,” Kenji cooed. He gently wiped a tear from your face as he readjusted your legs with his other hand, holding them tightly to his chest. “Coming apart already. I’m just getting started. Are you going to be good for me?”

Daishou Suguru

finger sucking finger sucking finger sucking. loves watching you gag so he’ll shove two fingers deep into your mouth and strokes them over your tongue. he also just does it to shut you up whenever he feels like it.

likes edging and teasing a little too much. will hold off from fucking you until you’re genuinely angry at him, so wet that he can push in with no resistance. then he makes it up to you by fucking you until you’re sobbing or your eyes are rolling back in your head. you’ve never had an orgasm with him that didn’t feel like you might not live to see the end of it.

“You like that, don’t you?” Suguru said, thumbing over your bottom lip as his cock slid between your legs, not pushing in like you desperately wanted him to. “Like when I use you like this? Should I just come like this? I don’t even have to fuck you to get myself off.” You let out a pathetic noise in protest and he laughed. “Maybe another time. Today I’ll be nice and give you my cock.” He dragged between your legs again and stopped at your entrance, slowly sinking in and pulling a relieved sigh from your throat. “There we go. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He slid two long fingers between your lips, pressing on the back of your tongue and nearly making you gag. “Now stay quiet while I use you.”

Terushima Yuuji

i.......i gotta mention the tongue piercing. i’m sorry. i know he gives the most enthusiastic, sloppiest head and FOR SURE owns a vibrating tongue ring. what a whore. i love him.

i feel like he’s messy. like he’s into spitting and really sloppy kissing and cum play and everything. will come in your mouth and tell you to hold it there while he fucks you stupid. sometimes kisses it out of your mouth. he’s a freak and i like it.

“Yuuji, fuck.” You could practically hear your body vibrating, past orgasms still lingering under your skin.

“Yeah? Tell me where you want me to come,” he said. You groaned as he abused the perfect angle inside of you and smirked down at your strained expression. “Not gonna talk to me?” You stayed silent as your head tipped back against your pillow. He chuckled and grabbed your face. “Open.” You blinked up at him and did as you were told, sticking out your tongue. He leaned forward and spat into your mouth. “I’m gonna come inside of you. Yeah? That what you want?” You nodded and swallowed, eyes pinched shut and voice frozen in your throat. He laughed and snapped his hips harder. “That’s right. Anything for you, princess.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi

so we’ve all agreed: horse cock ushijima, however, he usually uses those powers for good. very gentle, very eager to please, exactly what you’d want in a man.

he’s not a hard dom, but sometimes he gets so overwhelmed with how much he loves you that he forgets how strong he is. pounding into you with his whole heart and whispering in your ear how much he adores you between groans. very vocal. a little too rough. definitely feels very guilty when you’re sore the next day but if you kiss him and tell him you liked it....he may be willing to throw caution to the wind again sometime.

Wakatoshi didn’t speak much, but the room was far from silent. He made the prettiest sounds when he was lost in you, grunts turning to long moans, made even sweeter when they were hummed against your lips. The groan of the bed mixed with the strike of skin against skin, white noise behind your already muddled thoughts. Wakatoshi pushed your legs farther toward your chest and leaned down, laying his face right against your ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice seemed to rumble through your entire body. “You’re so good to me, darling. I love you.”

Kita Shinsuke

very soft. y’all are never gonna catch me writing hard dom kita shinsuke. HOWEVER. he is so eager that sometimes it’s a little too much for either of you. like he doesn’t realize how aggressive he’s been until you’re both literally unable to catch your breath and have to just lay in silence for a while. will ask you very nicely if you’re okay and get you water and anything else you need, but he will have this little grin on his face the whole time because he’s so happy to be able to put you both in that state.

Kita’s face scrunched up into a tight wince as he came, as his hips slowing into hard, deep thrusts that made your vision go white. Your grip in his hair was so tight you were sure it hurt, but you couldn’t help it when he was scrambling your brain with every touch. He stopped moving and you realized just how hard both of you were breathing. It felt like you couldn’t fill your lungs, body so spent that it couldn’t even do what it needed to do to survive. His braced arms on either side of your head were shaking, and his eyes were still shut tight.

“Shin,” you said, as steadily as you could through your gasping breaths. He didn’t answer. “Shin, baby, you okay?”

He exhaled hard and smiled, then let himself fall on top of you.

“Perfect. I’m—you’re perfect. I love you.” You laughed and combed your fingers through his hair, then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too.”

Meian Shūgo

what to say about this man......

i feel like my opinions about what he likes and doesn’t like are kind of hot takes, because most of the stuff i see with him is hard dom. but. i raise you: overly excited switch meian shūgo.

captain meian shūgo likes to be teased and edged within an inch of his sanity. he likes when you talk shit and order him around and he’s DEFINITELY into handcuffs. however, he always pays you back for it. even if he’s still cuffed up and a little pink in the face from embarrassment, he will absolutely use you. very loud. loves when you leave scratch marks. loves leaving hickies everywhere.

You were almost shocked by the high moan that left Shūgo’s throat as he finally sunk into you. His face screwed up in pleasure and concentration as he withdrew his hips and drove them back against you.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this. You tease me all that time but you can’t wait for me to fuck you like this, can you?”

“That’s some tough talk for someone whose wrists are still bound,” you said through a smile. He let out a breathy laugh and braced his hands on your stomach, still connected by leather and a short chain.

“Doesn’t keep me away from you.” He raised an eyebrow and pushed deeper inside you. “I can still use your body when I’m all tied up.”

Hirugami Fukurō

pulling a headcanon from his brother’s list and saying he likes getting his hair pulled, which means he loooooves going down on you.

will leave your legs feeling like jelly because he makes you come at least three times, and each one is hard. like, you forget where you are and can’t breathe for a few minutes afterward.

will cock warm you until you’re begging him to please, please move. proceeds to fuck you slowly, but so hard and so deep you’re feeling him between your legs the entire next day.

“Done already? That’s no fun,” Fukuro teased. You were still shaking from the last time he had pushed you over and he wasn’t helping the situation, thumb still circling your clit after already abusing it with his tongue.

“Come on. You know how to take me.” He continued easing his cock into you, dragging out all of the breath remaining in your body.

“Please,” you whispered. He smiled and leaned closer.

“Please what, love? Do you want me to stop? Use your words.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“Want you to—“ You gasped. “—fuck me. Please.” Fukuro grinned and positioned himself so he had more leverage over you.

“Good girl.”

#i got a little carried away with this one #daichi smut #daichi headcanons #oikawa smut #oikawa headcanons #kuroo smut #kuroo headcanons #bokuto smut #bokuto headcanons #futakuchi smut #futakuchi headcanons #ennoshita smut #ennoshita headcanons #yamaguchi smut #yamaguchi headcanons #daishou smut #daishou headcanons #terushima smut #terushima headcanons #ushijima smut #ushijima headcanons #kita smut #kita headcanons #meian smut #hirugami fukuro

[ladylookslikeadude1]

I think it would be funny if Izuku and Hitoshi are fake dating. Hitoshi because some of his coworkers don't understand not interested or he needs a cover so no one suspects his relationship with someone (they are in on it as a trio of bffs). Izuku because his mom keeps trying to set him up because he needs someone to take care of him (quirkist nonsense). Except one evening at some sort of function Izuku is introduced to Hitoshi's mentor and falls hard. Que Izuku turning to Hitoshi telling him he needs to break up with him because he just meet the love of his life.

This was super fun! I really enjoyed this, so thank you for the prompt. Let me know what you think!

Izuku slid into the chair across from Hitoshi, noting the entirely blank expression on his face. “You look pissed,” he said quietly. “What’s going on?”

Hitoshi smiled wryly. “You look pretty pissed yourself.”

“I asked first.” Izuku offered a faint smile. “I’ll explain after I calm myself down.” And he listened as Hitoshi launched into an explanation of how incredibly invasive his new co-worker were, and how they kept asking him out even after he said he wasn’t interested.

“They will not take no for an answer, and I’m about to break someone’s face,” Hitoshi bit out.

Izuku sighed, tipping his head to rest on the back of the chair. “We seem to be having similar problems,” he murmured. “Because my mother is insistent that she needs to find someone to take care of me because apparently I’m so delicate,” he snarled, temper rising again before he took a deep breath and wrestled it back.

Hitoshi was silent long enough that Izuku sat back up and focused on him. “I think I have a plan,” Hitoshi said slowly, a mischievous little smirk playing at his mouth now.

“Normally I hate that expression, but I really appreciate it right now,” Izuku said, arching an eyebrow. “What’s the plan?”

Hitoshi explained, “We pretend like we’re dating. Your mom will get off your back, and my co-workers will back off as well once I tell them I’m dating someone. They’ll want to be introduced, which is why I didn’t just lie, but after that they’ll back off.”

Izuku nodded almost before Hitoshi was done speaking. “I’m game. Mom’s thinking about arranging a marriage with Kachan, and I will murder him in cold blood before I accept that.”

They smiled at each other, and settled down to eat. Izuku was introduced to Hitoshi’s co-workers, who cooed over him in a manner that made his teeth itch, and he introduced Hitoshi to his mother who was just relieved. Izuku wanted to be bitter that she didn’t even ask any questions about their relationship, but he was just relieved. Of course, since Izuku and Hitoshi were now ‘dating’, Izuku was expected at the functions Hitoshi had to go to.

At one of said functions, Hitoshi managed a quick introduction to Aizawa Shouta, his mentor, and some of the man’s friends before he was dragged away by his co-workers. And Izuku, the exact opposite of a romantic, managed to fall in love over the course of a conversation. Shouta, as he’d requested to be called, was sly and sarcastic, and he and Izuku were bantering back and forth before Izuku knew what was happening.

He heard a heavy sigh behind him before Hitoshi dropped his chin on Izuku’s shoulder. There was something considering in Shouta’s eyes as he watched the two of them, but Hitoshi stole his attention when he asked, “Am I about to be broken up with for my own mentor? The betrayal.” His voice was entirely monotone, and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh.

“Probably,” he admitted, flicking a quick glance towards a pleased but suspicious looking Shouta. “That means you’ll have to deal with your invasive, insistent co-worker yourself though.”

“Eh.” Hitoshi shrugged as he pulled himself away from Izuku to stand in the little circle they’d made. “I’ll just pretend to be entirely pissed off over the situation-it gives me a good excuse to be a complete asshole to them, so hopefully they’ll learn to leave me alone before the excuse runs out.”

Izuku snorted, but glanced at his watch and grimaced. “We’d better go, I have work in the morning.” They offered their goodbye’s to the group before heading out. In the car, Izuku leaned his head against the window and smiled. “I think you introduced me to the love of my life.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #I wish you would write #writing prompts #writing prompt answers #ladylookslikeadude answers #aizawa shouta/midoriya izuku #Shinsou Hitoshi/Midoriya Izuku #fake dating

[fanf1ctionwrit1n]

Mysterious Man

Paring: Bucky x reader

A/n: Ncis and marvel crossover!

Word count: 584

“Okay, see you soon. Love you.” You said, watching as Tony entered the bullpen. “Bye.” You hung up the phone.

“Ziva?” He asked.

“Uh, no. It’s my, uh, boyfriend.” You sat down at your desk.

“Boyfriend? What happened between you and Ziva? You guys were so happy together.”

“We broke up.” Ziva chimes in, setting her bag down at her desk.

“Mhm.” You said, agreeing. It had only been a week since you guys broke up but you had already moved on. You were in an amazing relationship with Bucky. He was incredibly different and that’s what you loved.

“So, who is this mysterious man? What’s his name? What's he look like?”

“He’s a guy. That’s all I’ll say.”

“Oh come on, his name at least?”

“No. My relationship is none of your business.” Just then the elevator opened. “Maybe Tim’s finally here.” You looked up from your desk to see a man, brown hair, steel blue eyes (those steel blue eyes let you know where home is), 6 feet tall, blue leather jacket, black tshirt- dog tags neatly tucked underneath, and a pair of jeans.

“I was gonna meet you in the parking lot, you didn’t need to come upstairs.” You said, walking away from your desk heading towards him. Ziva stared, slowly understanding why you both broke up. He’s tall, better looking, and overall much more attractive.

“I wanted to see where you worked. It’s very orange.”

“Is this the boyfriend?” Tony asked. Bucky chuckled silently, “You mentioned me?”

“Well, Tony kinda sorta walked in during our phone call so…”

“He thought she was talking to me.” Ziva said. “Ziva David.” She stated.

“Tony DiNozzo.”

“I know.” Bucky said.

“You do?”

“Yeah”

“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves I think you owe us an introduction.” Tony said. You started to fiddle with Bucky’s gloves.

“Bucky Barnes.” He spoke. He glanced down at you messing with the gloves. He usually wore his fingerless ones but since he wanted to meet your coworkers, he opted for ones with fingers. “Can you leave my gloves alone, doll?”

“Nope! Absolutely not, you may not tell them the story but they should at least know.” You said removing his glove, revealing his metal hand.

“What the-“ Tony spoke, his voice barely audible.

“Bucky Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, 1943. Lost my arm, after a fall, about 787 feet. Now I have this,” he said, taking off his jacket. You carefully pulled his dog tags out from underneath his shirt.

“Why are you telling us this? I mean you hardly know us.”

“Well, y/n talks about you guys all the time. You guys are practically her second family. I don’t have a family, all I have is y/n and Steve, but if y/n trusts you guys, I’m gonna try to as well. Because, well, if I’m being honest I trust her with my life so I gotta trust her when she says you're good people.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, we have lunch to grab.” You said.

“Have fun.” Tony said. You grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him to the elevator. As you waited for the elevator, you gave a quick, chaste(look at me learning new words), kiss on the lips.

“I love you.”

“What?” He asked. You had been dating for only a week and danced around saying those three words. It’s not because it wasn’t true, it’s just that either of you were afraid the other would freak out.

“I. Love. You.” You punctuated each word, watching as a smile slowly crept up on his face.

“I love you too doll.”

Marvel: Want to be added?

Ncis: @nerdyfangirl67 (Anyone else wanna join?)

All: @sade-shark (Anyone else wanna join?)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #ncis #ncis x reader #ncis imagine

[haechanniesunflowers]

Ateez reaction to you being hurt

notes: I'm feeling angsty today

Seonghwa

He had a hard day, practicing for hours on end for Ateez's 10th year anniversary concert. He wanted to get home and pour his heart out in front of you and just spend time with you. But he came home and you weren't there much to his dismay, but he waited for you. It was raining heavily. He called you again and again but you weren't answering making him anxious and adding to his frustration. Three hours later, the rain still hadn't stopped and he was scared and furious. The bell rang and Seonghwa opened the door. You stood there, completely drenched in the rain. He stepped aside to let you in. You walked inside and got to the living room when he pulled you by your arm to make you face him.

"where the hell were you? And why weren't you answering your damn phone?" he tone was harsh.

"Seonghwa please, not now I-"

"no we need to talk about this now! answer me! Do you know how worried I was? And I was already frustrated to begin with!"

You lowered your head and let the tears spill but it seemed like the rain water was dripping down your face.

He shook you arm to pull you, making you lift your face and roughly pull out of his grasp. That's when he saw the tears.

"I had a bad day too! Okay? My awful coworkers took credit for my project that I worked so hard on! And on top of that I locked the car with the keys, my wallet and phone inside! And I had to walk home because I didn't have any money for a bus or a cab! There! Got your answer!"

Seonghwa's eyes softened at your words and he tried hugging you but you pulled back.

"no I'm not in the mood and I'm drenched"

You went to your room and locked yourself in the bathroom to cry in the shower.

Hongjoong

The track he was working on was almost ready and he wanted you to be the first person to hear it so he called you to invite you over to his studio.

"hey babe what are you doing?"

"nothing much Joong. What's up"

"can you come over in the evening? I want you to listen to my song"

There was a pause from your end.

"hello? Baby can you hear me?"

"ye-ah Joongie. I'm busy these days, I'm so sorry. I'll try to come after the next week."

"no that's okay, you don't need to put your work aside. I'm free today since I finished the song, I'll come over. How does that sound?"

"I'll tell you in a few hours, okay?"

Hongjoong felt something was off so he quickly got done with his files and saved the track and packed up. He drove straight to your apartment and knocked on the door. You didn't expect to see Hongjoong at the door so you hid behind the door after opening it. He eyed you suspiciously.

"are you okay?" he asked, pushing the door slightly to get inside.

"yeah why do you ask?" you spoke nonchalantly, standing in the akimbo pose.

"you're acting... unusual"

"nonsense"

He slid it aside and took you towards your bedroom. He found it unusual how you were walking slowly and stopped.

"you're hurt." he stated and his suspicion was confirmed when you didn't answer.

"I slipped and sprained my ankle. I didn't want you to worry so I didn't tell you and I didn't agree to meet you"

He picked you up and laid you on the couch, snuggling next to you.

"I'm here to take care of you" he whispered and turned the TV on.

Yunho

Yunho is always in a good mood when he gets to see you. He wants to make the best use of the time he gets to spend with you. So during his break, you guys went to his home town to meet his parents but you stayed in a hotel even though he insisted that you stayed at his house. But you were a woman of principles and didn't think it was appropriate to stay at your boyfriend's house before marriage. He came to pick you up in his car and took you to an amusement park. You guys took roller-coaster rides and other scary looking rides too. He asked if you wanted to eat something and proposed the idea of going to a restaurant but you you told him that hotdogs from the vendors in the park would be nice and that you wanted to stay there longer and get on more rides. After eating you two took that discovery ride. While getting off you felt a little dizzy and tripped on something and fell. Yunho quickly helped you up and asked if you were okay and you told him yes, even though your ankle hurt a lot. After the fun time, he drove you back to your hotel. As you got off, you winced in pain and knelt to the ground, clutching your ankle. He worriedly got out the car and came to your side.

"your ankle is swollen" he spoke, concerned.

"it's fine, I can manage"

"are you kidding me? Why didn't you tell me you're hurt?"

"because I didn't want to ruin tee date"

"you can't stay here y/n, you're coming out with me"

"I said it's okay Yunho, I'll take painkillers and an ice pack, I'll be fine"

"I'm sorry you got hurt"

"you don't need to be sorry babe" you said and kissed him.

Yeosang

Yeosang wanted to go skateboarding with you but you didn't know how to ride a skate so he took it upon himself to teach you even though you gave the idea of him skating and you cycling next to him but he said no. He took you to a nearby park and helped you learn for over a month. When he deemed you ready, he encouraged you to ride it on your own with him holding your hands or your waist. You took a deep breath.

"you can do this" he smiled.

"I hope so" you replied and steadied yourself.

"I can already see us skateboarding down the road. I can't wait"

"okay here goes nothing"

You gained momentum with your foot pushing the board forward and continued with a steady pace.

"I'm doing it! Yeosang I'm doing it!" you cheered but made the mistake of looking back towards him which made you lose your balance since you were relatively new to this. You fell on your back but broke your fall with your arm.

Yeosang rushed towards you and helped you up. You yelped in paid when he grabbed your arm.

"it hurts so much" you shook.

He took you to a hospital where the doctor told you your wrist was dislocated.

He felt awful and blamed it on himself. He stayed by your side before and after your surgery and even helped you with your daily life stuff until you got better. You were happy to spend a lot of time with him and told him it wasn't his fault.

"you are never riding a skateboard again. Like ever."

San

You were visiting Namhae to meet San's family. He always talked about them and told you how important they were to him so you paid them a visit, knowing it would make San the happiest.

You were sat on the couch, chatting with his sister while the TV was on. It was a random drama which none of you were interested in, rather wanting to talk about girl stuff.

"Sannie is a sensitive one, though he doesn't show it" his sister let you know.

"I know, I have never seen him cry. I used to think he doesn't care but then I found out that he's just very good at controlling his emotions."

You two were indulged in the conversation and didn't see San entering the room with Byeol in his arms.

"Y/N I want you to meet our family's master"

You and his sister giggled.

"Byeol, this is Y/N. I hope you come to terms with the fact that your position as the girl I'd die for has been taken by her."

You were a blushing mess and had butterflies in your stomach. San was always kind and loving towards you. And as if Byeol had understood what San had said, she started acting up.

"can I pet her?" you asked, earning encouraging nods from the Choi siblings. You stretched your hand you gently pet her head but Byeol acted first and violently scratched your hand, drawing blood.

"Byeol no!" San whined as the cat hissed at you and ran to the other room.

You clutched your hand tightly, trying to soothe the pain but it came in waves and burned. San worriedly came closer to you and him and his sister examined your hand. There was definitely blood coming out of the claw marks. They had to take you to the hospital to get you tetanus shots.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, your hand is ruined and you're in pain because of me"

"not because of you Sannie, it was Byeol but you can't really blame her, she an animal after all"

Mingi

Mingi took you to the dance studio to show you the new dance he choreographed. He was happy with it and spent a lot of time perfecting it and wanted you to see it. You were supportive of his ambitions as a rapper and a dancer, aside from Ateez. He was grateful for you for being by his side and understanding the time and effort it required. You never complained when he was unable to make time for you sometimes, knowing that he was working hard. The bond you shared was strong and you two were inseparable.

"okay I'm gonna start, queue the music"

And with that he started dancing. You were in awe of the way his body moved and how effortlessly he executed the difficult moves. You clapped when he finished.

"wow Mingi... this is... wow... I'm so proud" you were at a loss of words.

"come on I'll teach you the floor move, it's the easiest"

It was the easiest, for a trained dancer that is. You both didn't realize how difficult it actually was. You, because you weren't a dancer and Mingi made it look like a piece of cake. Mingi, because it came naturally to him and he had insane body control so he thought it was actually easy.

He taught you how to slide using your core strength. You didn't have a strong core to begin with, so you landed on your knee and pain shot up in your leg. You clutched it and let out a whine. Mingi took a look at it saw it reddening.

"I'm sorry for making you do this" he shook his head.

"nah I shouldn't have said yes" you smiled, not wanting him to be upset.

"let's get you home"

Wooyoung

He kept his artist of the month news a secret from you. He wanted to surprise you with it. So when you saw it on twitter you called him and congratulated him.

"this is huge Woo, I'm so proud of you!"

"I know you're rooting for me. I want you to come at the practice session we're having, just so we can perform on stage too"

You agreed to come and dressed up for him. When he saw you enter the studio in your black jeans that hugged your curves and the loose green cardigan which you styled and tucked in from the front. You had your hair down and mere sight of you took Wooyoung's breath away. His dancer friend from bb trippin' knew about your relationship but some of the staff was different that day and didn't know who you were.

Your eyes gleaned, watching Wooyoung dance. He was in his element and looked ethereal. The practice session ended and before you could run to him and hug him, you saw another woman, a staff member get close to him, handing him a water bottle and wiping his sweat off with a cloth. You were stunned but didn't think muhh about it, since his job required him to be around other women too. You watched from a distance how she talked to him for some time and subtly placed a hand on his thigh, giggling and telling him he did well. You were hurt to say the least. He didn't spare you a glance and then talked to her as if you weren't in the room. You didn't ruin the mood for him at the moment but were screaming internally watching her flirt with your man in broad daylight and him going along with him.

After the session ended, his choreographer called him to discuss important matters with him and the staff started leaving. You noticed how the same woman was hanging around, until another senior staff member told her to pack up and leave. After the discussion, Wooyoung came running to you.

"did you like it?" he asked excitedly.

"the performance? yes. The little show with that staff woman? absolutely not"

His face fell at your words.

"baby listen, I had to let it slide. It's not like I could've swat her hands away and tell her to go away. Having good chemistry with the staff results in good performances. Please try to understand"

"I don't know Wooyoung. And this is just what I saw. I can't stop imagining what else goes on since I'm not around all the time"

"I want you to trust me. I'm all yours. No one can take me away from you. No one. You don't know the hold you have around my heart. You don't know what you do to me. It's you and only you. Never forget that."

Jongho

If there's one thing in this world that Jongho liked doing the most, it was comparing how strong he was compared to you. No, you didn't even compare. You didn't even come close. He loved lifting you like it was nothing, tightening jars on purpose so you would ask him to open them for you and lifting the furniture with one hand while you both cleaned. He also loved arm wrestling with you with just two of his fingers of his non dominant hand, while you struggled to win with your dominant hand.

You both sat in the middle of the living room. Jongho challenged you to arm wrestling and the loser would have to clean the dishes. He wasn't even trying while you were shaking by using the entire strength in your arm. He got a little cocky when his hand got tired and decided to end it with a bang. He used intense force and your hand landed on the table with a thud. You pulled it back and rubbed it. He didn't fully realize how hard he hurt you until he saw just how red the back of your hand was. He immediately apologized but you got up to give yourself first aid, not responding to him. He followed you to the kitchen and tried helping but you shoved him aside.

"leave me alone"

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Let me help"

"Jongho please just leave me alone right now"

He felt awful to have hurt you and after you went to your bedroom, he did the dishes. You had invited him to stay the night at your apartment so he was glad he could be around to make it up to you.

He came to you some time later and apologized again and took responsibility of his actions.

"you scared me Jongho"

"I'm so sorry, I'll be more careful I promise"

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x y/n #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x y/n #ateez yunho #yunho x you #ateez yeosang #yeosang x reader #ateez san #san x y/n #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x y/n #ateez jongho #jongho x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst

[jinned]

payback’s a bliss | taehyung  | m

snippet: “This is going to sound so cliché,” Taehyung starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

pairing: taehyung x female reader, seokjin x jeon soyeon from (g)-idle

genre: smut, slight angst, slight fluff

au: coworker, office, valentine’s day, strangers to lovers to friends (s2l2f)

rating: explicit/18+

word count: 9.6k

warnings: y/n and taehyung get dumped :(, seokjin and soyeon are heckin annoying, gross pda, no one does any work in this office, dirty dancing, trash talk, sabotage :)

sexual warnings: voyerism!! sex without orgasming, uncompleted sex, office sex, public sex!, protected sex, lots of hand roaming wink wink, taehyung dig bick gang, lots of makin out!, table sex, slight choking, scratching, smol strip tease, dirty talk, they both question if they really want to do this for the right reason, the sex is kinda short tbh so not much actually happens,

a/n: banner made by @kimtaehyunq​!!! thank you so much maggie!! and thank you for asking me to be a part of your collab! i’ve had so much fun writing this! thank you to @feliix​ and @ughseoks​ for the endless amount of support from both of you

this is mostly unedited :( i’m sorry

this is a part of the be my bangtanvine collab! make sure to check out all of the other amazing stories!

The sharp edges of the invitation card threaten to prick through your skin as you grip it too tightly. Seokjin and Soyeon are currently skipping about the office, merrily handing out an invitation to every co-worker insight to their fabulous Valentine's Day party they'll be throwing. 

"And we got it approved by the big man to host it here! Everyone must come!" Soyeon’s shrill voice echoes throughout the padded cubicles. 

A groan slips past your lips before you can stop it. Normally you'd be down for office parties and festivities, you're a fun gal after all. But the idea of attending a Valentine's Day party that your ex-boyfriend is hosting with his "newer and better other half" just doesn't sound as appealing as one might think.

You desperately want to crumple the invitation in your fist and you outwardly seethe as Soyeon clutches onto Seokjin's chest as she leans into him with laughter, him naturally moving with her, chest rumbling before placing a passionate kiss on the top of her head. In a gross quirky fashion, Soyeon kicks up one of her feet, giggling with each second Seokjin’s lips are on her skin. 

Her stupid gorgeous skin that glows when the sun shines through the windows.

You hate her stupid skin, the sun should burn her, not make her look like an angel descending upon this earth.

Which, she totally acts like on a daily basis, sunshine or not.

All you can do is remind yourself that you are a better person than your hostile instincts and negative thoughts want you to be.

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly exhale through your nose, lowering the invitation painstakingly slow and delicately placing it to the side of your desk. You will show no weaknesses. They will not get to you. 

A loud huff of breath behind you breaks your concentration, and you turn around to see your co-worker Taehyung failing at being the better person; his jaw is clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face are twitching. His invitation is in pieces scattered across his lap and desk, some bits still stuck to his clenched fists in between his fingers. His entire body reads fire-angry and pissed off, but there's something in his eyes that tells you there's more going on deep within his mind. The way his eyes shake and glisten, it's clear as day he's just as hurt as you are about this situation. 

Taehyung is one of the handful of coworkers you’ve worked beside for years but have never exchanged more than ten words with. He’s quiet, tends to his work, and keeps to himself. Even when he and Soyeon were together he shied away from the PDA and loud declarations of love. The few times you cared to spare a glance in their direction, it always seemed that Taehyung was uncomfortable having all eyes on him with a bright red face paired with fidgeting hands. It was enough to make anyone feel bad for the guy.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear, (AKA: all the attention is still on Seokjin and Soyeon), and you scoot your chair across the short way to Taehyung's desk.

"Hey, Hellboy,” you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “extinguish your flames will ya?"

Taehyung's jaw relaxes as he looks at you for a moment before turning back to the mess around him. Closing his eyes, he lets out a more tender sigh, carefully picking up each piece one by one before sprinkling them into the garbage.

"Thanks," he says weakly. "I didn't realize I was expressing outwardly. Nuts isn't it?" He forces a chuckle, shaking his head as he goes back to watching the couple of the year receive their compliments and adoration from the other office sheep.

"Completely nuts." You agree, scooching closer until your chairs touch and you’re sitting side by side.

"She's acting like we weren't ever even together. Seokjin seems to be doing that to you too. It's crazy! Weren't you guys together for like three years?-"

"-Three years."

Sighing together, you both lean back into your chairs.

"Soyeon and I were together for four."

The pout in his voice breaks your heart, even more than it's already broken. That feeling alone surprises you. It's not like you're an overly compassionate person, not saying you're exactly heartless, but you and Taehyung have barely interacted. Ever. Even amongst your years and years of working together, nothing more than a simple head nod or raised coffee in acknowledgment has passed between you two. Now, you feel like you need to reach out, rub his arm comfortingly, maybe even offer to take him out on lunch where the two of you can freely be irrationally angry and bitter together. Really, it's just that if you were him, (and you basically are in this situation), you'd want someone to be there for you. Being alone in the midst of a breakup this painful just doesn't seem like a comforting option.

So, stepping out of your comfort zone, you decide to do just what you'd want someone to do for you.

"Let's get lunch together," you blurt out.

Albeit slightly confused, Taehyung smiles and kindly accepts your lunch offer.

"And then he said, 'You're a little too much to handle sometimes.' Who fucking says that!" You yell over the bustle and noise of the restaurant, voice muffled by the decent amount of food still in your mouth.

"He said that? About you?" Taehyung scoffs, throwing his fork down onto his plate and throwing his body back against the seat cushion. "You definitely don't seem like the type to be described as "too much to handle". I'm insulted on your behalf!"

"Thank! You!" You can't help but raise your voice as you throw down your fork as well, the utensil clattering against the now clean plate. "I can't believe Soyeon gave you such a stupid reason for dumping you. Who just says, 'We were too attached and I need to learn how to be my own person.' then goes around and is immediately in a super clingy relationship? I don't get it. Plus, in my own personal opinion, I wouldn’t have described you guys as too attached. I don’t think I even saw you guys kiss in public. Which makes this thing with Seokjin even more absurd!"

Expecting a fiery response, Taehyung surprises you by staying silent. His shoulders drop as he stares into his half-eaten chocolate cheesecake. The intense, angry emotions surging in your own veins quickly simmers down seeing how truly upset he looks in front of you.

"Hey," you dip your head down, trying to make eye contact, your hand naturally falling on top of one of his own, "don't worry about them. What she told you was bullshit and does not define who you are as a person. What she did was low and was clearly not the real reason she broke up with you. You seem like a great guy and she's going to have to live the rest of her life knowing she let you go." You see a faint smile finally grow on his face, making you smile in return. 

"Thanks, Y/n. I wish I was as strong as you are. I wish I could just be angry and secure with myself." He sighs and leans one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand as he breaks up pieces of his cake, not making any motions to actually eat it.

You think about what to say and how honest you want to be. You've only just really started talking with him and talking about your feelings and insecurities has never been easy for you to do. Which was exactly one of the reasons Seokjin claimed during his breakup speech.

And fuck that guy. You can be emotionally vulnerable anytime you want!

"I'm not as tough as I'm making it seem," you admit slowly, "It honestly hurts so much it feels like I can't breathe sometimes, you know? I really thought I had opened up to him, really thought I had someone who loved me truly for who I was. I thought he saw the real me. A part of me almost feels violated knowing how much he knows about me." You can't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "Don't give them the power to determine your self-worth, okay? We'll get through this together. You're stuck with me now!"

Taehyung looks up and smiles warmly at you. Genuinely, you believe that you'll be able to make it through this. And it doesn't hurt having someone else here to understand what you're going through. 

Finally going back to eating his cake, Taehyung thinks thoughtfully for a moment, his head tilted in a curious fashion.

"Do you think-," he starts but pauses, scrunching up his mouth to one side as he ponders over what to say. Sighing and looking down once again, he softly says, "Do you think they cheated on us?"

It's a sentence that instantly gives you chills, freezing you in place for a moment because no, you didn't think that, the thought never occurred to you in the first place. Despite how mad you were at Seokjin, he didn't seem like the type to cheat. Now that the thought is in your head, you can't help but rethink situations you may have looked over.

Like the late nights leading up to the breakup, Seokjin stepping out of the room when he got phone calls- something he never used to do before. These things were out of character- yes. But you didn't think twice about it because it just seemed like something everyone did in the midst of a rough patch in a relationship.

Or maybe your subconscious just couldn't handle it at the time.

"She acted differently...in the end. I just wasn't sure if you knew or not."

"No," you shake your head, "the thought honestly never crossed my mind. But now that you mention it, he acted differently in the end too."

For a good, heart-bursting moment, you both sit there and silence and you let yourself feel truly sad about your breakup for the first time. You're not sure what's worse: the blinding anger or the heart-wrenching poignancy.

"This is stupid!" Taehyung finally breaks the silence, his fists firmly planting onto the table as he stands. "We didn't do anything wrong! Why are we the ones who have to be sad and cry into delicious cheesecake? They should be the ones crying into a creamy dessert!"

You can't help but laugh. And once you start, it's hard to stop. The entire situation still doesn't feel real to you, so what else can you do except clutch at your ribs as all the air in your body is used to laugh? Taehyung laughs with you, sitting back down and scooping up the remaining bites of his cheesecake.

"It really is dumb." You finally manage to choke out the words, the laughter slowly dying out between you two. "I wish there was some way to make them feel what we're feeling right now."

Mouth full of food, Taehyung offers a muddled: "Isn’t revenge...ya know...bad?"

Reaching for a napkin, you pause and stare at the lines in the fabric, an idea sparking in your mind. Slowly sliding the napkin over to your new friend, you decide to continue to be bold today and think out loud.

"What if we went to that Valentine's Day party they're hosting?"

Gasping on instinct, Taehyung accidentally inhales part of his cake, spiraling him into a coughing fit. "You want to what? I thought we agreed it would be a terrible idea!"

Smiling devilishly, you wait for Taehyung to notice the mischief in your eyes, wait for him to see that you wouldn't just simply be attending.

"What have you got planned?" He asks carefully.

"Let's go...together." Quirking up one of your shoulders, you play with your fork, spinning the utensil slowly against the point of your finger. It was hard trying to appear so casual, mysterious, and nonchalant when all you wanted to do was shout out your idea.

"I'm honestly such a bad guesser and I'm way too intrigued, but at the same time I'm not stupid enough to fall for the casual 'let's go together' so please tell me what you have brewing in that devilish mind of yours, Y/n, please I'm DYING!"

Taehyung's flair for the dramatics will definitely make this idea of yours even more pleasurable.

Dropping the fork, you look around the restaurant before leaning in, beckoning Taehyung to do the same until you can see the tiny flakes of freckles painted across his cheekbones.

"Okay. So, here's the plan..."

The next few days go by so fast it's been hard to enjoy the festivities.

And by festivities, you mean the fun going on between you and Taehyung.

The office has become so much more enjoyable having Taehyung in your life. Every day you come into work wearing one of his sports jackets, graciously draping it on the back of your chair after he politely pulls out your seat for you. And every day, after pushing in your chair, Taehyung leaves you a quick, yet passionate kiss on the top of your head, to which you always end up looking up at him with pure joy. 

It didn't take long for you two to become the talk of the office. 

Like a wave of wildfire, everyone began wondering just when you and Taehyung got together, if it was serious, a playful situation, just how far things have gone. You never paid much attention to office gossip before, but you never would have dreamed it was as juicy as this. Being in the spotlight was never your thing, but this was completely different. It felt different at least. Speaking of, you were usually the type of person to shy away from being the center of attention or the talk of the town. You liked that, in this instance, this spotlight was controlled by you and aimed at you just the way you wanted it. Walking around the office with a new wave of confidence felt empowering. Seeing Seokjin's jaw drop to the floor when he saw you, even more delicious.

It's true. Along with the new relationship, you switched up your wardrobe as well. Oh, and getting a new haircut after a million years of avoiding the salon definitely gives you that extra umph that you needed. And, let’s face it, moving on after being mercilessly dumped isn’t official until you do something different with your hair.

"You look..." Taehyung whistles as he not so discreetly eyes you up and down, biting his bottom lip as he does so. "Amazing." Very quickly you see some heads pop out from their cubicles out of your peripheral vision. It makes your smile all the more genuine.

Acting like you think the two of you are all alone in the office lobby, you giggle and lean into Taehyung. "Thank you for buying this outfit for me. It fits me in all the right places." You wink and pull at his tie slightly, turning around and walking away with it slipping through your fingers.

All of the heads quickly return to their computer screens, pretending to not have heard or seen a single thing.

It’s almost too easy.

Seokjin's cubicle is near the front of the lobby with yours and Taehyungs near the middle of the floorplan. Without a doubt, Seokjin's head had to have been one of the ones who was watching you just now. 

Gliding across the floor with Taehyung quickly following behind you, your heels click delightfully against the tile floor. In a split minute decision, instead of trying to discreetly glance into Seokjin's cubicle, you decide to turn back towards Taehyung and reach for his hand, giggling all along the way. 

Taehyung grasps your hand in his, the other hand pocketed in his tightly fit slacks. You weren't the only one with the wardrobe upgrade. If you're being completely honest, he won the makeover competition.

Your partner retired the contacts and went for a classy chic pair of black glasses that fit his facial frame so well, he could be the poster boy for all eye doctors across the nation. He made you want to have poor eyesight so you could sport some fancy eyewear. The two of you also found some new hair product for him and found that curling those chestnut locks made him go from Average Joe to chiseled supermodel. It still baffles you that this was the same Taehyung who's sat behind you for all these years. 

Throwing out the cheap button up collared shirts, Taehyung now sports some fancy looking sweaters, sporks jackets, and silk button-ups. He looks like a million bucks and ever since the makeover he's been getting the attention from strangers from all sorts of people, rightfully so. You’ve also gotten your fair share of head turns and whistles from folks on the street and each one only adds more fuel to your steps.

It's been a confidence boost for the both of you, to say the least.

Once you're near your own office spaces, Taehyung holds onto your fingers instead of letting you go, pulling you quickly back into him so fast that your hand automatically flutters against the swell of his chest.

"I'll miss you," he mutters softly for only you to hear, kissing your knuckles before guiding you to your chair to do his usual routine. Chills dance across your skin as your mind panics for a moment, briefly forgetting that this is all for show.

"I'll miss you more," you recover with a purr. Then, for good measure, ditching the nervousness echoing in the back of your mind, you let out a louder Shhh! noise, resulting in immediate whispers surrounding your not so private cubicle space. You let your finger linger over Taehyung’s lips before sashaying to your desk, leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway staring after you.

This was going all too smoothly.

Throughout the days you and Taehyung manage to find ample time to grossly flirt with one another. One of your favorite hobbies now was deciding where exactly you wanted to meet up and get a little frisky.

Your favorite spot by far is easily the copy room, however cliché it may be. Having Taehyung pressed up against your body as his lips roam your neck, your back either against the copy machine itself or the counter just adjacent to it, it was all too much fun.

Like today, for instance, things might have gotten out of hand.

Taehyung's hands roam your body from your hips all the way up to your shoulders as he murmurs things too quietly for you to even understand. Well, let’s be honest, it’s definitely not necessarily because they were too quiet, but because you were so distracted by just how electrifying his touch feels. It never meant to be this serious. A touch here, a kiss there, outward flirting and such. But now you're starting to think it's becoming more of a game between the two of you instead of an office game you set up to make your ex's jealous. Technically, you didn't need to start this game so early before the party: it's only a week away now. You were way too eager to put your plan into action, and that meant sacrificing the workplace and those that worked around you.

You don't even remember why you were in the copy room to begin with. Usually, you try to plan it so either Seokjin or Soyeon walk in. Lately, it's been everyone but.

Your breath becomes heavier as Taehyung's tongue swipes up along the backside of your ear, a little spot he quickly found brings out some not so innocent sounds from you.

Wanting so desperately to enjoy the attention your body is getting, you can't help but fight against the bliss. You're losing sight of the plan ahead. And you can't help but notice just how naturally you're responding to Taehyung's antics.

"Taehyung!" You gasp, glancing at the clock above his head, not realizing just how hot and heavy it was getting between you two. "I think we need to cool it a little bit. We've been in here for fifteen minutes now and no one has even come close to this room."

He chuckles under his breath, a slow, deep raspy sound that hums like a string quartet on a fine and breezy summer day. "Sorry. Seems I got carried away."

Without hesitation, he backs away from you and you can't deny that your first thought is how much you want him back up against you.

"I'm thinking we came on too strong. Now everyone is afraid of being around us." Taehyung ponders outwardly, a finger slowly tapping against his chin. How the hell is he able to be so sexy and passionate one minute and easily go back to acting like nothing happened?

Gulping, you clutch your arms to your chest, suddenly feeling cold without Taehyung’s warmth. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we can get back to work, there’s plenty of time for more shenanigans later.” He winks and walks out of the room wondering just when he became so carefree and confident.

A spur of the moment shopping spree sprung at you and Taehyung the night before the Valentine's Day party at the most opportune of times. After all the scheming and planning, the one thing you forgot to plan for was what you would be wearing for the event which blossomed said scheming and planning. Even when you both upgraded your wardrobe before, it was all simple business casual outfits, not a night out attire. 

Taehyung calls you in a panic, words blurring together through the phone as you try to make out what he's trying to say. Eventually, you're able to put two and two together.

"Holy shit we forgot our party outfits." You exclaim dumbfoundedly.

So, that's how you got here. Sprinting down isles with your hands out batting against the edges of the clothes. Some of the fabrics feel soft against your fingertips as the wind blows through your hair. As you look over to Taehyung, you can't help but to smile, not even noticing the gross feeling of old velvet pants going against the groove of your fingertips. Any other day, your body would have recoiled in disgust. But somehow, staring into Taehyung's earthy brown eyes, it's all become manageable. 

As the night continues and fashion show after fashion show occurs, you start to think about how you look at and feel around Taehyung. He's doing everything he can to stay positive in this terrible situation you've both been thrown into, and yet, you find yourself comforted in his presence. While comforting is the best word to describe it, it's also starting to become confusing. Are you starting to look at him romantically? Is he thinking the same about you? It's definitely not an appropriate time for you to jump back into a relationship. Come to think of it, you barely know much about the guy other than what you two share in relationship baggage. 

The rest of the night you seem to move in slow motion, caught up in your thoughts and not really feeling present in the moment. You catch Taehyung sneaking glances at you and it seems he's trying extra hard to be funny with all the ridiculous outfits he's put together.

"How about this!" He jumps out of the dressing room with arms wide open; a bright green feathered boa, red and yellow vertical striped pants, and a shirt that definitely could have belonged to a middle-aged man who loved to go fishing every weekend. There's a certain disconnection you feel with yourself even though it feels like you should be happy.

"You didn't even try to smile," Taehyung’s entire demeaning softens instantly. He walks towards the cushion you're sitting on and joins you, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours, "what's on your mind?"

Not exactly ready to admit your confused feelings about him, if they’re even feelings there at all, you decide to talk about the other thing that’s been disturbing your thoughts: Seokjin.

“I just wish it were easier, you know? Moving on?”

Taehyung huffs and juts out his bottom lip, quickly coming to your rescue by wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You let him consul you, lowering your head onto his chest as he rubs comforting circles on the side of your arm.

“It’s okay. I’ve been having a hard time getting over Soyeon too. It seems that no matter how hard I try my mind always drifts back to her. I still don’t really understand how she could just jump into a relationship with Seokjin and be in love so quickly. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think they could be faking too? Like us?” The thought honestly makes your stomach turn and twist into all sorts of complicated knots. Why would you and Taehyung get dumped only for them to rub it in your face on purpose?

“I’m not sure,” Taehyung sighs, “I honestly wouldn’t put it past Soyeon to do it. There were more than a handful of times when we’d be around a bunch of people and she’d be all over me, couldn’t leave my side. Then, when we’d get home, she’d want her space and do her own thing. Super weird. I think she just needs everyone to see how loved she is. I don’t know. She has her own insecurities she still needs to deal with.”

Nodding your head into Taehyung’s chest, you also reflect on the way Seokjin treated you when you were in front of other people vs. how he treated you at home. And you can’t really think of an obvious difference. He was an amazing boyfriend who just couldn’t seem to fully commit to you.

“Sometimes it’s nice to think that they want to see us upset, doesn’t it?” Taehyung smiles and pats your head, standing up and offering a hand out to you. “Kinda shows us that we mean a whole lot more to them than they’re willing to admit. C’mon. Let’s find you a killer outfit and show Seokjin exactly what he’s missing.”

“Taehyung. Has anyone ever told you that you could have a future in fashion design?”

You keep staring at yourself in the mirror, looking at every angle possible of the attire you have on. Taehyung picked out everything himself, more than proving that his taste is far beyond more exquisite than all of your project runway knowledge combined. Right away in the store, he commands that blue is the only color he wants to see you in, none of that typical pink or red Valentine’s Day bullshit. “We need to stand out in all the best and worst of ways. Plus, blue is one thousand percent your color.” He had said to you, reassuring you along the way that he’ll find something for you both to match in.s

And he was a thousand percent right. Blue is most definitely your color. The way it brings out the natural highlights in your hair and even that small spark in your eyes, you’ve never been so confident with just a shade before.

The style of the dress itself is something you would expect to see in an over the top beauty pageant with just enough elegance to make it red carpet-worthy; pools of tool and fabric cascade down your legs, a long slit going up until your mid-thigh. The top half of the dress is strapless and slightly exposing the best of what you have to offer. You protested heavily on the attire in the store, it needed more than a little TLC with some rips and tears in the squirt and some stains on the front. But Taehyung had insisted and told you he had a plan in mind. 

In less than two hours Taehyung had successfully stitched and sewed his way to a beautiful masterpiece. You couldn’t even tell this was the same dress he had picked out in the thrift store.

Fondly, he smiles at you as he looks at what he’s created, a hint of shyness overtaking him as he softly admits that his mother and older sister would make their own clothes to save some money. Naturally, Taehyung picked up on what they had learned and actively partook in it as well.

“One year, for my mother’s birthday, my sister and I both worked on this really grand dress. It took us nearly two months to make. I used to be made fun of for this stuff, but nothing feels as good as seeing someone’s face light up when they put on something you’ve made. It’s the same face you have on right now actually.”

You turn and smile back at him, feeling a sense of comfort between the two of you. The warmth from his words is something you’re not quite used to; your connection seems to run deeper than you were ultimately expecting it to be. And you like the feeling of it.

“I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they make fun of you,” you say boldly, hands on your hips for emphasis.

Taehyung throws a pillow at your back, the both of you laughing like high school best friends.

Pacing back and forth in your driveway, you can’t help but think you might have been stood up. Taehyung said he would be at your apartment a good hour or two before the party so you could help each other get ready and hyped. 

You are definitely not ready. You are definitely not hyped.

Glancing at the clock on your phone only makes you more anxious as you fight the urge to call him for the fourteenth time. The party has started by now.

This didn’t seem in character for Taehyung. Unless, you dreadfully think, you said something that offended him. Maybe he caught a whiff of your little crush on him. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear to see Soyeon on such a romantic holiday night. Your thoughts are spiraling out of control, you take off your heels in a defeated huff, tempting the idea of shucking them into the neighbor's shrubs.

You take a seat on the front porch, heels still in one hand, and laugh to yourself. This is what you get, huh? You wanted revenge and karma did not feel like taking its time in giving you exactly what you deserve.

Thoughts of Seokjin and Soyeon slow dancing under paper hearts spinning on a string from the ceiling leaves you feeling emptier than ever before.

As a large teardrop drips down your cheek, a car turns into your driveway.

“Y/n?” Taehyung slams his door shut and rushes over to you. He’s wearing his blue suit, the one he picked out to match yours. His hair is styled so that part of his forehead is showing. Emotions overtake you and the tears flow more consistently before you’re able to even attempt to compose yourself.

“What’s wrong? Oh, Y/n what’s wrong?” Taehyung sits next to you and pulls your head to his chest, wrapping one arm around the back of your shoulders while the other one wraps around the front of your body. You clutch your hands to your face, embarrassed beyond belief that you’re sobbing on your front porch on Valentine’s Day to your fake date of the night.

You think about mentioning Seokjin and Soyeon, or the fact that you really don’t want to go to this party anymore. Instead, what comes out is, “I thought you weren’t going to show up!”

Pushing you back so he can see your face, Taehyung takes your hands gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he looks into your eyes. “I could never leave you behind.”

It feels like your heart plummets down a ten-story building and you want to melt into him.

Continuing before you can get ahead of yourself, Taehyung says, “Did my texts not go through? I said we got the time mixed up. The party starts at eight, not seven. I also stopped by to get you this-” He looks around at the ground beside him for a moment, then motions for you to hold on while he trots over to his car.

“Close your eyes!” He yells while laughing. You wipe your eyes one last time before placing your hands over them. 

You hear his footsteps on the pavement as he gets closer. It’s probably some flowers, a corsage even. 

There’s movement on the top of your head and you flinch, nearly opening your eyes before being stopped by Taehyung. “It’s just me, hold on.” He places something on your head, adjusting it and fixing your hair.

“Perfect!” He steps back. “Go ahead. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from your face and look around. Taehyung is standing in front of you holding a small compact mirror. Leaning forward, you look until you can see your reflection and the small tiara on your head.

“I saw it on my way over here in some small shop window. I just had to get it for you. It really brings your whole outfit together!” Taehyung’s smile is big and warm, rendering you speechless. 

“No need to thank me!” Taehyung puts the compact mirror in his pant pocket, reaching for you to pull you up. “Seeing everyone’s reaction to how amazing you look is all the thanks I need.”

He walks you to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you, assisting with your dress to make sure not a single string of fabric gets caught.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you whisper just before he closes the door. There’s a shine behind his eyes as he nods his head softly, his smile still not wavering.

A nice intense pep talk goes down in Taehyung’s car before you’re both able to walk up to the office hand in hand. You had thought you would be the shaking mess of nerves, but instead, it’s Taehyung’s hand that clutches yours tightly, a slight murmur disrupting his cool demeanor.

All of the office desks have been pushed against one wall with cupid cutouts and (as you predicted earlier) paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. A red light is cast throughout the room giving it a nice sultry feel as light music plays over the speakers. You never realized just how big this floor is. Easily seventy or so people could fit in here for a party. Instead, there’s only about twenty of you.

Everything looked so magical, and yet, it felt oddly prom-like.

You and Taehyung were fashionably late, so as soon as the front door opened with a loud sha-shunk sound, all eyes were on you two.

“Game on.” You smirk, feeling as ready as ever.

“Taehyung! Y/n!” Soyeon’s usual peppy voice wavers over the music. “You’re here!” 

The crowd parts slightly, leaving a space so Seokjin and Soyeon could greet you at the front door.

“Oh, we just couldn’t miss the party of the century!” You laugh, clinging to Taehyung’s upper arm.

“The chance to show off this beautiful lady? Wouldn’t pass that up for anything!” Taehyung is saying this in response to Soyeon, but his eyes are only on you. He gives you a wink for good measure, leaning in slightly until the tips of your noses touch.

“Yeah, like anyone would describe Y/n as a party person,” Seokjin quips. Your eyes narrow, looking over to your ex for the first time. 

You can’t deny how great he looks in his pastel pink suit that perfectly matches Soyeon’s party dress. It accents every curve of his muscles in his arms, his suit jacket practically draping on his wide shoulders.

This might be harder than you were expecting.

“You never really were the type of person to think on their feet, huh, Seokjin?” You chuckle knowing that he really was trying to hurt your feelings in front of everyone. Seokjin glowers at you, his lips a fine, thin line.

Soyeon looks like she wants to say something, but instead grabs Seokjin’s elbow and turns him around, heading back to the middle of the dance floor.

Without looking, you and Taehyung give each other a satisfactory low-five.

“So, snacks? Or dance floor?” Taehyung asks.

“Oh, definitely snacks. I see a bowl of chips calling my name!” You not so graciously speed walk over to said bowl and pick it up, cradling it the same way one would a newborn baby.

Taehyung picks up a large pink cupcake and runs his finger around the frosting, sucking on the digit slowly as he observes the crowd before him.

Soyeon is bent forward slightly, wiggling her butt against Seokjin’s lower regions. The co-workers around them cheer, raising their glasses as they continue to jump to the music. Seokjin doesn’t even look slightly embarrassed. 

“You know, if I would have even dropped low like that to pick up a can of soup or something that fell on the floor, he’d hide his face in shame,” you say with a mouthful of chips.

Taehyung scoffs, shoving the remainder of the cupcake into his mouth. “Ehdgeeut.”

“I bet we could out dance them,” you say more confidently than you actually feel. Without waiting for Taehyung’s response, you grab his greasy cupcake hand and drag him to the dance floor.

Relaxing as much as you can, you try to empty your mind of all fears and anxieties and mimic what you’ve seen in movies and music videos, using Taehyung more as a prop than an actual dance partner.

At first, no one notices you two. But as more co-workers break to grab refreshments, they come back and form a crowd around you two instead of mindlessly migrating back to Seokjin and Soyeon.

And eventually, that left the pair without an audience to flaunt their love in front of.

Taehyung is getting more and more into the movements, and you bet he’s also blocking out the nerves like you are. It’s beautiful watching him smile and enjoy himself, not even noticing the people around him. It definitely helps you feel more comfortable in the spotlight as well.

Pulling you closer, Taehyung lifts up one of your legs and hooks it as his hip, one of his hands roaming up your thigh. Your heart races as his face gets closer to your own, both your foreheads connecting and it feels like you’re breathing the same air.

At this point, you know Seokjin and Soyeon are watching you.

The song ends right as Taehyung pulls you closer and kisses you. It isn’t like any of the fake kisses you’ve exchanged in the office previously. This one is laced with something sweet and spicy, a want you can’t even begin to explain.

And you don’t want to stop kissing him. You don’t want this feeling to end.

“Get a room!” Someone yells from the back, the crowd erupting into laughter as some shield their eyes away from you.

“Maybe we will!” Taehyung yells, grabbing your hand and running with you out of the room and into one of the office hallways.

And as you run, you see Seokjin’s wide, regretful eyes, his shoulders sagging into his suit jacket.

Quite the victory if you’ve ever seen one.

Giggles and shuffling feet is all you can hear throughout the hallway. The cool breeze is barely noticeable against the warm touches from Taehyung's hands around your body. Each time his skin presses against yours, it leaves a ripple of warmth throughout your body, so much so that it feels like you'll never be cold again. 

Your hands grasp the edges of his suit firmly as you momentarily take control, pushing him carefully against the wall so you can kiss him again. Taehyung smiles into the kiss, chuckling deep from his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. His lips are soft and familiar now and it's become a little too easy to get lost in them. 

At times like this, you forget this is supposed to be pretend. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you continue to dive in. 

These kisses start to feel different than the ones from before. Originally, they were nothing more than quick pecks, not even five seconds long at their most intense. Now, they're slow, both of your lips molding together in slow motion, giving you plenty of time to let your hands roam with minds of their own. Your bodies start to connect like puzzle pieces, like the way your hip naturally leans into his or the way your chest rises up flush against his own. Every time Taehyung's tongue barely sneaks past the edges of his mouth sends a warm chill that blooms deep in your chest, rippling until you feel it in the tips of your fingers. You almost want to sigh in relief the way one would sigh when sinking into a nice warm bath after a long day. 

Seokjin never kissed you like this. 

Slow and steady turns into fast and furious. All of a sudden what you're getting is just not enough. Taehyung pulls at the fabric of your dress, guiding you away from the wall so he can lead you into one of the conference rooms, the very conference room Seokjin and Soyeon will be coming up to in order to exchange Valentine's Day gifts. 

You can't help but wonder if this was done on purpose.

Maybe it's an extreme coincidence that this conference room just so happens to be the closest one for you guys to tumble into.

Once you're past the threshold, Taehyung's in control. He breaks apart the kiss and turns you around, lightly pushing against the small of your back until the front of your body can't go any further: you're now flushed against the conference table. His hands find your hips, moving up and down for a moment, hesitating before boldly moving up to your breasts. 

"Is this okay?" He murmurs with a kiss on the back of your neck, just under your ear as he massages your chest.

It's never felt more okay. Your mind is turning into white static with the built-up attraction. 

"Oh yeah, this is okay." Chuckling, you let your eyes flutter shut, somehow making the experience even more enjoyable this way.

Wasting no time, Taehyung shucks off his suit jacket in one clean motion, tossing it aside carelessly and diving back into your lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you moan against his lips, indicating to his shirt, “off.”

Chuckling, Taehyung breaks away and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Are you punishing me now?” You laugh, already missing the feeling of him on your skin.

“I can go slower than this,” he plays, the tip of his tongue poking past the side of his lips. Normally you wouldn’t mind a little strip tease or the build of anticipation. But right now, you’re anxious to get him inside of you.

Sauntering over, Taehyung is only halfway down his shirt when he’s close enough for you to grab.

And so you do.

You take his tie into your fist and pull him close, his face now inches from yours. Taehyung’s breathing is heavy, his chest moving up and down almost as quick as your heart is beating.

You move in like you’re about to kiss him, but stop short just as your lips barely brush against his.

“I don’t play games,” you whisper, showing your teeth as you smile.

“Funny,” Taehyung murmurs back, grabbing onto your hips and flipping you around until your ass is flushed against his crotch area, his tie still laced between your fingers, “Didn’t seem that way when you asked me to play along with your little scheme.”

All you can manage is a soft sigh, allowing yourself to relax against his body and letting his tie slip past your fingers.

This is all a game, you remind yourself. Or, at least, it started out as one.

Taehyung unzips the back of your dress, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. If there is a world record for the most amount of times a person has shuddered with chills in the span of ten minutes, well, you would have beaten that record by a mile.

And although you enjoy each kiss and each touch, it’s all going far too slow.

Using what goods you have in the back, you push out with enough force to back Taehyung a step. It was just enough for you to be able to spin around to face him and drop your dress to your feet.

“Wow,” Taehyung gasps, “you are absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you raise an eyebrow confidently, “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”

Without question, Taehyung moves to undo his belt, still moving rather slowly as he unbuttons his pants.

Your eyes follow his hands as they move back up his legs. Eyeing his frontal area, you’re surprised to see that he isn’t hard yet.

You try not to show your disappointment, but Taehyung notices right away.

Bashfully, he grips the back of his neck with one hand, looking down and apologizing. “I’m just kind of nervous is all.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I was just a little surprised! If you’re not ready we don’t have to do anything.” It suddenly feels very cold in this room.

Taehyung smiles again, this time more innocently than before, “I want to. Trust me.”

Closing the distance between you two, you kiss him on the lips slowly, waiting for him to take the lead.

It doesn’t take him nearly as long as you had anticipated.

Taehyung’s mouth moves feverishly against yours, that fire instantly igniting back between your two bodies. His hand grips the side of your neck gently, his thumb resting just behind your jawline. It isn’t until your fingernails trail the edge of his spine that his grip hardens slightly, taking your breath away.

Taehyung’s free hand moves to your back to unclasp your bra, doing so in an impressive one try. His hand is instantly on one of your breasts, massaging it roughly.

That is all the touch you need before you’re ready for him.

Your thumb slips past the hem of his boxers, pulling them down and away from his skin. Taehyung steps out of them now completely naked before you. As you continue to kiss, you can’t help but chance a peek at what he has lying below.

And what he has does not disappoint.

“Wow!” You gasp, “Soyeon left you for Seokjin? No wonder she seems more high strung than usual.”

Laughing, Taehyung stops his ministrations and rests his head on your shoulder in embarrassment. 

“And then you,” he returns, “Soyeon may be pretty, but she’s also flatter than a piece of cardboard. You?” He whistles and manages to bring his head back up, eyeing you up and down while biting his bottom lip.

“He’s stupid,” Taehyung concludes.

“And she’s an idiot.” You smile.

“Enough about them,” Taehyung takes both of his hands and grasps your panties. With one swift motion, he rips the fabric in two and is moving you back to the table, back to the original position you were in, “this is about us.”

In his hand, Taehyung shows a condom he must have pulled out of his pocket before. You honestly don’t remember seeing him do it, but you nod your head quickly up and down. Taking it between his teeth, Taehyung rips the fabric and promptly places the condom on the tip of his cock, unrolling it carefully. Your thighs tingle with anticipation, your vagina yearning to be filled by him.

Spreading your legs out so that your feet rest on the tops of the neighboring chairs, you nod your head once more for Taehyung.

Slowly, he inches the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

Taehyung’s arms are placed on either side of your hips and you use his stance to grip his biceps, holding on for dear life as you try to mentally prepare for the massiveness that’s about to enter your body.

Taehyung guides his cock up and down your folds just once before diving right in.

The stretch is absolutely delicious, immediately your eyes roll back with bliss. He’s only able to get inside of you a quarter of the way before he slides back out, repeating the process until he’s able to inch further and further. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to bottom out in you. But if you’ve learned anything from this time you’ve spent with Taehyung, it’s that this man is determined.

One final thrust and it feels like he’s pushing straight through your G-spot.

You’re out of breath as you cling to him more aggressively, not able to even comprehend what it would feel like for him to pound into you with everything he’s got.

Taehyung searches for your mouth, planting a long, deep kiss on your lips as he slowly starts to rock his hips back and forth. There’s a tense hunger from his lips that you try to match, but the pleasure you’re feeling down below is distracting your every thought.

After a few moments pass and the strong build-up, you initially felt seems to simmer out. 

Despite the intense need for one another, there's something between you and Taehyung that's different than what you had with Seokjin: spark.

The thought hits you. Hard. So much so that it stuns you into a motionless blob. In retrospect, it isn't even that big of a revelation, but it's enough to put some ease on your mind.

"Y/n. Are you okay?" Tentatively, Taehyung stops for a moment and makes sure to meet your eyes.

Opening your mouth to respond, instead of words an eruption of laughter takes over you growing gradually until your entire body shakes with it. You clasp your hands over your mouth to try to contain it, but it only seems to worsen the giggles.

"I'm so sorry, Taehyung," you finally manage, "I just realized— I don't think…” you take a deep breath, ignoring the screaming voice in your head telling you to shut up, “I don’t think I like you in this way."

There's a moment where Taehyung and you both look down at where your body's currently intertwined and for a second you're afraid that you've possibly hurt his feelings.

He inhales slowly, releasing the air quickly soon after with an 'ahhh' sound. "Oh thank goodness! I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I started to realize the same thing about two minutes ago."

Laughter bubbles from your throat naturally, your lips vibrating as you try to hold it in. But, it’s no use. Taehyung sees you laughing and he can’t help but do the same.

“We should probably get out of here before we make an even bigger fool of ourselves. We can get Chinese? Hang out at my place and talk and watch a movie? I feel like we should talk.”

You’re about to verbally agree when a blinding light interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh my god!” A squeaky voice trills by the doorway, echoing throughout the room. 

You and Taehyung freeze in place; he hasn’t even had the chance to remove his cock from your pussy.

The intense feeling of drowning consumes you as your vision finally comes to focus. At the doorway are Seokjin and Soyeon.

“Y/N?” Seokjin’s voice cracks in disbelief at the sight in front of him.

Panic sets in. How stupid was this idea? Who thought you should go to a work party, strip naked, and start having sex with one of your coworkers on the table in one of the conference rooms?

If it were just Seokjin and Soyeon, your embarrassment would still be there, but at a much more containable and manageable amount. 

The entire office staff on the other hand...you were not prepared for that.

“Everyone leave!” Seokjin yells, turning his back to you and ushering the other coworkers away. As he’s doing so, Taehyung slips out of you, running over to where your clothes were discarded and throwing them at you with haste as he rushes to dress the lower half of himself.

Your arms feel numb as you pull your dress over your head, not even bothering with your bra or panties.

Seokjin returns and closes the door. Soyeon is covering her eyes, her back turned to you and Taehyung slightly as she’s muttering something to herself. Her perfect black hair cascades into a perfect curtain to shield her eyes from your nakedness.

“This is going to sound so cliche,” Taehyung starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

Soyeon makes an abundance of gibberish sounds with an aghast look on her face before finally blurting out, “Look like what? Like you weren’t caught having sex with each other?! Jesus, Taehyung! We knew you guys were all over each other but I thought you had enough decency to keep that stuff in the bedroom!” She puts her palms out towards you both and shakes them before turning away once again with her head down, shaking it in disbelief.

“That’s the thing! It’s complicated!” You shout, desperately trying to zip up the back of your dress by yourself.

“Were you or were you not just having sex?” Seokjin says sternly, looking directly at you like a disappointed father. You give up the fight with the zipper and sit down in one of the chairs behind you. It’s you he wants the response from, you can tell by fact that he hasn’t given Taehyung a single glance.

“Yes, but-”

“Then that’s the answer, Y/n. We get it!” Seokjin turns to Soyeon and gives her a gross affectionate kiss on the cheek. “You guys are jealous of the love we found and you didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. So, naturally, you turned to each other!”

Taehyung looks at you, and you at him, once again neither of you being able to look at each other seriously and you both start to laugh, yet again.

“We aren’t actually seeing each other!” Taehyung leans against the wall so casually, you wonder where this confidence has come from. It looks good on him.

If it weren’t Taehyung, you wouldn’t be so calm about confessing your conniving plans of fake dating. The way he’s so casually laughing and accepting the fact that you were both caught helps ease the anxieties you know you would have felt. And in this moment you realize why he’s not upset and why he’s not embarrassed: he’s finally moving on from Soyeon.

And, you guess, the same thing is happening with you with Seokjin.

“We faked it all,” you smile genuinely, “Of course we were upset when you guys got together, but honestly for myself, I would have had an easier time moving on if you two weren’t constantly shoving your love down everyone’s throats.”

“We’re surprised you haven’t been in a hallmark movie yet,” Taehyung adds.

“Exactly!” Pointing at Taehyung as he nods his head, you relax even more.

Seokjin and Soyeon stare at the two of you, stunned on an entirely new level. Looks like you and Taehyung are the first to tell them how gross and obnoxious their PDA has been.

Soyeon looks at Taehyung with a weird glint in her eyes, one that makes you instantly suspicious of what she’s about to say. 

“Taehyung, let’s get out of here,” you suggest. “I may not be in love with you romantically, but I think it’s safe to say we’re pretty great friends. And as your new great friend, I suggest we quit our jobs and run off together into this sunset!” You jump up quickly and hold out your arm for him to take.

“I agree completely, Y/n!” Taehyung jumps with just as much fervor as you and gladly takes your arm.

As the two of you start to skip past a dumbstruck pair of exes, you pause before Seokjin and boop the tip of his nose playfully. “You’ll tell the boss for us, won’t you?” You wink and continue on with Taehyung.

Deep down, you’d give anything to go back in there and explain the situation entirely with your ex, to have one last heart to heart and really see just what’s going through his head and to get some sort of closure. But you know it’s not healthy to act that way anymore. It’s better to move on and enjoy the day with your newfound friend. So what if you’re single this Valentine’s Day. At least you get to be single with Taehyung.

Later that night, as Spongebob plays in the background of Taehyung’s living room, you look around at all the empty Chinese takeout boxes and at Taehyung passed out on his side of the couch, and you realize for the first time you feel genuinely at peace. Sure, you know it’s going to take some time to fully get over Seokjin. 

With a friend like Taehyung by your side through it all, though, you know it won’t be so bad.

let me know what you think! :)

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

© all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. Jinned 02/12/21

#taehyung smut #smutcentralnet #thekpopnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btsguild #kim taehyung #bts #taehyung #bts smut #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts x you #taehyung x you #bts reader insert #taehyung coworker #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fics #bts fic #ex seokjin #ex soyeon #taehyung s2l

[twinklelilstarkey]

For the Colton Imagine can it be something like proposal or with kids (he just looks adorable with children)

Kids - Colton Parayko

A/N: Of course, baby! I chose with kids because I just couldn't say no to that. Here it is.

Words: 2.7k+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Kids (?). Just Colton melting over kids and being their favorite.

To say that your boyfriend looked cute when with kids, is an understatement. He’s just the purest and most adorable person when he’s close to a kid. His whole expression can change when his eyes land on the small young humans, and so does his smile and his tone of voice.

Colton is just a sight to see. And a great helper too.

The reason behind that is that you’re a kindergarten teacher. You, as someone that has always loved the idea of being around kids, are still young and learning in your job on how to be a great teacher and even role model to such young kids.

Right off when you started your career, before meeting Colton, you wanted kids to have the best of experiences in your classroom. You wanted to be the coolest teacher, all because you also had that when you were younger. And that came with a lot of fun activities throughout the week and a lot of decorating to do in your classroom. 

Is it tiring? Yes. But is it worth it when the kids run in every morning all excited to see you? Oh, absolutely.

Close to any festive date, you remodel your classroom with the help of your coworkers - and Colton, when he’s free - and always do a list of all the activities you want to do during the week.

Imagination is key in this job.

You met Colton a year into your job. It was a random date you had set yourself in by a dating app - something your friends had forced you to try and see what would happen.

On that date, the first minutes were a bit awkward, you felt nervous and Colton felt all anxious. You were scared that it would all just be a recipe for disaster. 

For an example, the thoughts that ran through your mind were all about: what if one of you just said something completely random or talked too much? 

Ugh, it was stressful, to say the least.

But that was until you said what you do for a living. Oh, the heart eyes he gave you.

“So, you like kids?” He had asked you.

“Of course! Ever since I was teenager and babysat my neighbor’s kid.”

You won your way to his heart right away. He made you all sorts of questions about your job and just smiled all the time you would mention your favorite moments with the kids. 

And when you asked about him, and he told all sorts of opportunities he has had with his job to hang out with kids. And you felt like you melted into a puddle. 

He would mention how many times he has infiltrated himself onto small kids’ skating-classes at the Enterprise center and how they would always let him help out. Kids are, honestly, who rule the soft spot on his heart.

All the stories the two of you had, were just what saved that date. It was what made you talk for hours and hours about one another and make you notice how much more you have in common, other than liking kids.

Both of your friend groups would just think that their ears would fall off if they heard you talk about one another one more time, during the following weeks.

Three dates in and you’re dating. Living your absolute best life.

And two years later, which is now, you’re still dating Colton. You, now, go and see him in every home game and he picks you up from work every time he’s free. He also helps you with buying stuff for your classroom - when it needs redecoration, or when you need help with getting stuff ready on big days.

“Can you pass me the scissors, babe?” Colton asks you as he stares intensely at the piece of paper.

You pass him the scissors quickly and he whispers at you a little ‘thank you’.

You’re both sitting in one of the small tables of your classroom while cutting up some drawn and painted balloons. 

Today marks a week away from your class’s last kindergarten day, so you’re getting everything ready for it to the best last few days with them.

Most of the classroom, if not the school, is decorated. You, honestly, just need to add the little details you weren’t able to finish on Friday’s afternoon, and Colton, which had a day off, decided to come in with you super early to help.

You look over at the clock on the wall and you almost let out a gasp. The first kids, the ones that always appear before time for class, are almost here.

Quickly you stand on your feet and go get the other things ready while Colton continues to cut up balloons or drawing cute faces on them.

You open the bags of candy and start putting two down by the desk of each kid, probably looking like a maniac at how quick you’re moving around. 

You dunk the rest in the bowl by your desk, and you hear, very faintly, a little giggle at the end of the hall.

Oh, here they come.

You grab onto your sheets of paper and look over your shoulder at the door of your classroom, seeing it open very slowly. A small head of dark curls appears and a group of gasps escapes the children at the door.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N!” The girl that peeked in first says with her big smile.

“Good morning!” You say back with a smile.

Colton lifts his gaze from his little balloon and he sees the small kids, all staring up at you by the door. He smiles as you let them in the class and all their eyes land on him as he comes into view.

“This is Colton, he’s just helping me out, today.” You explained to them.

Some of the shyer kids hesitated a bit when walking in the colorful room, but the extroverts just sprinted to him with their toothless smiles.

“Hi!” They all screamed at him at different timings. “I’m Jacob!” One of them screams while everyone else also begins their introductions.

Colton smiles at them and soon a wave of questions hits him.

Children, when not scared, are one of the most curious beings in the world, so they will ask anyone about anything. And that comes with a large lack of filter too. But that is not something anyone that has come close to a child doesn’t know.

Colton, to your surprise, was able to answer every single one of them without ignoring any kids. Something you, their teacher, still have some difficulty doing, today.

While most of the kids are distracted with him, you go and drift your attention towards the shyest ones. You walk over to the door and go help the ones who are hesitating to walk in, holding up your hand at them before crouching down to their level to say a little ‘good morning’.

In a matter of very few minutes, you’re able to warm them up with the idea of walking in - which, indeed, has a lot to do with the candies that are resting on their desks. 

When the small group of kids clears out your door, you notice a special girl you’ve grown to love ever since you started working here.

Her name is Addison and she is the purest, yet the shyest kid you’ve ever come to meet. She’s timid to the point of preferring to be alone all day, even in the park in recess. She has had to change classes a bunch of times due to that lack of talking and not making friends, yet she landed on yours a year ago.

Throughout this year, you have been trying your best at winning her trust. She’s a very scared little being and you can’t just leave her in the corner, especially when most of the stuff you do in class is for everyone to be involved and have a great time as a group.

There have been good days and bad days, yet her good days are able to make your heart melt. Those are the days where she’s able to do more than half of the stuff you offer her to do and with a smile. The most precious smile in the world.

“Good morning, princess Addison.” You tell her as she stands behind the doorway. “I love your dress, today!”

A small little curve appears over her lips and she starts taking small steps towards you. You smile brightly at her, still crouched to be at eye level, and she quickly is standing in front of you.

“Mommy did my hair today.” She whispers at you.

You let out an enthusiastic gasp and she smiles at you.

“Oh, well, let me see the masterpiece.”

She turns around to do a little twirl and you look to see her coily hair separated in two perfect buns, which are held by two glittery light blue elastics - Addison’s favorite color.

“Wow!” You tell her and she turns back to you.

She is smiling so brightly that you swear you’re already a puddle. She’s just this adorable human being. 

If there’s any kid that will make you emotional when leaving on the last day, it will be her. No offense to anyone else, she’s just the princess of the classroom.

Colton, who is still sitting at the table, has found himself done with all the cutting and coloring, but also with two young boys climbing his back to dangle over his shoulders.

You weren’t kidding when you said that the kids are always in a good mood right in the morning.

He laughs at something one of the boys says and he looks over to check on you. You’re talking to a little girl in a blue dress and your smile is just as wide as it can be, as well as your eyes, which just twinkle with love.

When you finally stand back on your feet and extend your hand over to the little girl, Colton notices how her expression changes. Her small eyes study the room anxiously as she walks with you, and when they land on him, even worse.

Stranger danger, Colton, come on! Of course, the kids won’t like you right off the bat.

Before Colton could stand up or say anything to announce how he’s already done with his task at you, a little voice stops him.

“Mister Colton?” A little boy says while waving his arm around, “Are you and Miss Y/N dating?”

(...)

Half an hour later and your classroom is almost full, as hell as it’s almost time for class to begin and Colton’s time to leave. You stand back to look at what you just put on the wall, just to make sure it’s centered. 

Yeah, looks good.

The usual giggles, ones you’ve grown quite accustomed to, are louder, yet only now you’re looking back to see what’s happening.

Colton is still sitting with the kids, he has two boys laying over his shoulders, which look like they’re about to do a handstand, and he’s talking to a whole other group that is sitting on the floor in front of him.

You walk over to your desk to check something on your computer before you announce the time to everyone - and end up breaking everyone’s hearts. And as soon as you take a seat on your chair, you notice that Addison has gotten up from her seat.

One of her little drawings is still sitting on her desk, but you can’t stop yourself from looking for her in the big group of children around your boyfriend. And that’s when you see her, walking towards him with a paper in her hands.

Colton continues to talk to the kids, but that’s when he notices a small figure appear beside him. He looks over and the girl from before - Addison, you already told him the name of everyone in the room - is standing right beside him.

He gives her a smile, which she gives back, just a little shyer.

A sudden weight is lifted off his shoulders - quite literally, because one of the boys became tired of hanging on his shoulder, but also because she had just smiled at him. 

So, he decides to try his best.

“What do you have there?” He asks Addison, pointing his finger at the paper on her hand, honestly, just trying to make conversation.

Why does he feel nervous?

He notices her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she said. So he leans in, turning his head to the side, so she can repeat right over his ear.

“A drawing.” She tells him, again, in a whisper.

Colton snaps his head back to her and smiles widely in excitement.

“Really?”

She nods.

“Can I see it?”

Her lips move again and Colton leans in again so she can talk on his ear.

“It’s for you.”

“For me?” Colton asks extremely excited and looks over at her.

Addison nods with a little shy smile and a little giggle escapes her mouth as he looks at her with an open mouth in shock. She, slowly, raises her hand with the paper on it and Colton, just as slowly, takes it.

(Kind of looks like this - but make it hockey)

As his eyes land on the paper, he feels his heart burst at how adorable it is. He can tell that it’s a bunch of hockey players, all of them with blue jerseys and with hockey sticks on their hands.

“Oh my god!” He whisper-yells, making the girl look at him a little worried, “It’s amazing!”

Another giggle escapes her mouth and Colton, probably getting too confident, extends his (now) free arms to ask for a hug. She looks at him a little hesitatingly, yet before he could even think twice about what he just requested, she throws herself into his arms.

Colton, like with any other kid from class that requested a hug, wraps his arms around her and pulls her into the hug. Her giggles fill the room and you smile at the sight.

It’s impressive, to say the least. It took you so long to get that little girl’s trust and with one simple morning, Colton, not only got a drawing but a hug?!

Sounds unfair to you. Even though extremely adorable.

“So, you’re a blues fan?” You hear him ask her, making you let out a laugh.

If she isn’t, he sure is going to convert her into being one.

She nods her head and decides to do the same thing as another kid is doing beside Colton - sitting over his leg. Colton, now with one kid on each leg, and still one over his shoulder, looks over at you.

His smile is just the brightest ever. He’s having the time of his life.

He looks back at Addison and shows the drawing she just did to her.

“Am I in this?” He asks her and she nods.

Her little finger points at one of the figures with blue jerseys and the only difference between him and the other guys is that he’s holding hands with someone. He eyes the other person with care, and just by the clothes that they’re wearing and from the hair.

It’s you. Holding his hand while he holds a stick with his opposite hand.

He unconsciously pouts at how cute it all is and fights his urges to stand and run to you, just to show you the amazing drawing.

You must have read his mind, because right as he thought that, you appeared beside him, also taking a seat over the carpet with everyone. It didn’t take long for some of your students to move over and sit close to you.

Colton hands you the drawing, which you carefully grab it, and he points at the pair of people in the middle of it. You smile brightly and Addison gives the two of you her biggest smile of the day.

She was proud of her drawing, but, now, more than ever.

“Ms. Y/N, can Colton stay for the rest of the day?” Someone asks in the crowd of children.

Colton laughs beside you and you smile at the boy who asked it. Before you could even open your mouth to answer him, Colton does it.

“No, but I can come back tomorrow (?)” He says, almost as if it’s a question.

He’s looking at you, and that’s when you understand that he’s asking you for permission. And as soon as the kids also notice that, a wave of screams hits your ears.

“Please!” and “Let him!” are screamed at you and you smile.

“Yeah, of course.” You tell him and he smiles.

The kids celebrate, some by jumping around, others throwing their fists in the air while screaming victoriously, and others - like Addison - just smile at the both of you.

Ugh, things can’t get better than this.

Hope you liked this! Sorry it took me a little long to post it, but I was a little stuck on one part. Really hope it was worth the wait.

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko x reader #colton parayko imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[palbabor-writes]

Latibule pt. ii

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, kinda heavy petting? we still going slow up in this ride, adult language, eventual SMUT, oh & Kiyoomi being a blunt asshole

Words: 12,880

His usual spot at the cafe is taken, and he’s already decided to keep walking on, but somehow, somehow, he manages to catch your eye.

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink, a pleased smile on your soft lips.

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you.

Notes: me: try to keep it at 7,000 words, also me: what’s a word count?  

i owe my life to @wickedfaerytale & @albinoburrito​ for their edits and suggestions on this monster. i love you both & appreciate you to the moon and back.

Latibule 

pt. ii: Four Set

a high set to the strong side/outside hitter

[ pt. i: an opening ] || 

[ You: 4:35pm ]

Hey! It’s me– from the coffee shop. Wanted to see if you were busy this evening? Maybe we can meet up when I get off?

[ Sakusa: 5:02pm ]

I know. Sure.

[ You: 6:21pm ]

Great! I’m off at 9:30. Want to meet at the shop?

[ Sakusa: 7:10pm ] 

Read at 7:10pm

“Is he coming?” Kane asks, following you out of the coffee shop and pausing under the shallow awning, twisting his head, watching your back as you turn the key in the door. You tug against the handle, testing the hold, your hands heavy against the cool metal. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes peering into the darkened depths of the cafe lobby. “It says he read the last text, but he didn’t respond. He’s likely busy. I have no idea how long they practice; he’s a professional athlete, and after seeing that game...well, I can only imagine how intense his training schedule is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone move like that before it was so fluid, like watching quicksilver.”

“Eh? Quicksilver? What is this, a poetry slam? Who describes people like that? Still, I bet he does, like, 20,000 sit-ups a day. You can tell, even under that baggy jacket, that he’s crazy fit,” Kane ruminates, leaning against one of the stacked sets of metal chairs. “Damn. It’s kinda crazy to think about, you know? You and a hot pro athlete going out on a date.”

You huff out a laugh and give him a playful scowl. “Ugh, shut up, you’re so rude, Kane. And I wouldn’t say it’s a ‘date.’ We just exchanged numbers. That’s all.”

“Oh? I’m sorry. You’re totally right. All those googly eyes must have happened with someone else. Definitely not you and that six-foot monster of a man. I mean, usually the guy just sits at his seat and ignores us, watching those videos on his computer and taking his notes, or he gets his coffee and is on his way, but today he was practically sitting on the hand off plane, and staring at you. 

Don’t gimme that face! You know I’m right. And–awe, look at you! So bashful! Oooh, you like him, don’t you? That’s so cute! Come on (Y/N), that’s so––ow!”

“Didn’t you say you had a paper to write?” you grumble, shoving your knuckles against his shoulder again. “There was so much whining from you tonight. Way worse than usual. So many, ‘hurry up, (Y/N)! I need to get home. What if this makes me bomb my paper! What if I fail the class because of this?’ What happened to all that? Huh? Suddenly you’ve got time to suss’ me out on the sidewalk?”

“Yow! So touchy! And this is totally workplace harassment, ya’ know! Jeez, that’s a mean right hook you’ve got. You didn’t even warn me! Eee, I’m gonna be bruised tomorrow!”

“Oh, shut up. You completely deserved that. Now go away and go finish your paper, you soon to be fail––”

“You said 9:30, right?”

The sound of Sakusa’s low voice startles you and you spring away from Kane, head whipping around and eyes wide. He’s standing a few feet behind the two of you, his shoulders curved into their usual hunch, eyes dark behind his fringe of curls. Under his golden jacket, a crisp white shirt is stretched across his broad chest, the bottom tucked carefully into the front of his jeans, and his MSBY bag is hanging against his back. His onyx hair looks heavy and you can see some lingering moisture, no doubt from a recent shower, glistening against the raven waves. 

“Hey!” you call, unable to bite back the elated grin that’s suddenly curving the edges of your lips. Kane is right about one thing, you think, stepping closer to Sakusa’s stiff form. This is kinda surreal. “We just finished closing up. Uh, this is Kane,” you wince, gesturing to the smirking face of your coworker. 

Shit. Stop it. You sound like an idiot. He knows who Kane is. You’ve seen them talking at the register before, but the rambling introduction keeps tumbling out of you. “He works here. He’s usually at the register, he’s learning, um, the bar and–uh. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you’ve seen him before, uh, probably...definitely...ha, but, er–”

“And that’s my cue,” Kane chuckles, shaking his head at your janky attempts to introduce him properly to a man that he’s known, in passing, for over a year. “Nice seeing you Sakusa-sama,” he bows, tossing you a cheeky wink from his polite curve, “you guys have fun.” And with that, he’s gone, leaving you and the impassive Sakusa alone on the empty street.

A hushed quiet falls over the two of you as you adjust the straps of your purse, eyes lowered. Stop freaking out, you chide yourself, taking a deep inhale of air into your lungs, fingers padding aimlessly over the leather slings of your bag. Just talk with him. It’s always easier when you ask the questions first, since he’s not much of a talker. So ask him about something he can answer.

Volleyball. Yeah, ask him about that. It’s not exactly a groundbreaking conversation starter, but it will work.     

Strategy set, confidence mounting, you open your mouth.

“So, how did your practice–” “How was your day–”

He speaks when you do, and the two of you clatter directly into each other, words smattering into nothingness as you both fumble into an uneasy silence again.

Hopeless, you’re both hopeless. It’s kinda funny, in a horrifically awkward way. 

“Uh,” you grin, eyes finally lifting to his. “You first?”

The gentle thud of his heart echoes against his ears and his breath is hot under the cover of his mask. You’re so close. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch you, could drop his hand from his pocket and let it slip into yours again. That thought makes his palms feel itchy, and he scrapes his nails down the skin, easing the ache.

Not yet.

He watches you as you shake your head, a glowing smile breaking across your lips. You’re not just pretty, he thinks, unconsciously drifting closer, you’re captivating. It’s like you’re some kinda homing beacon. 

He’s a cautious guy, always has been. But something about you makes him want to blindly reach, to be nearer to you. 

“Practice was fine. Where did you want to go?” he murmurs, fingers lifting, tugging his mask down his face. 

He wants to kiss you. 

It’s been on his mind all day, through the training, through the practice games, hovering over him, shrouding him with the foggy remembrance of the pressure of your lips. He’d fucked your first one up and he wants to try again, to do better. But it’s different when you’re expecting it, when he can see your gaze following the downward pull of his hand, your eyes hooded and watchful as he reveals the lower portion of his face to you. When you bite your lip into your mouth, teeth pressing before slowly letting the plump flesh spring free again, he nearly groans aloud.  

He wonders if you’ll let him do it, let him kiss you, and that thought makes him feel lightheaded. You’re so close––No, he gulps, jaw clenching and shoulders straightening, his back arching upward and right foot jerking a step, pulling away from your tempting openness. It’s too much, it’s too soon. 

Just wait, he reminds himself, be patient. Not now, not yet. 

You notice his shift and look up at him curiously, popping your weight onto your other leg, one hand braced against your hip, but you still smile up at him, acknowledging his unspoken cues for distance. “Well, I was going to see if you wanted to get a drink.”

“I don’t like bars,” he blurts.

Your eyes widen and you suck a sharp breath into your lungs, lips falling into a half-formed ‘oh.’  

No. He didn’t mean it like––Damn it. 

Kiyoomi flinches, nose wrinkling and mouth pulling into a thin line. He’s not good at this. 

“Mm, well, this is less of a bar and more like a gastropub. It’s small, laid-back. Plus, it’s a Tuesday night, they’re gonna be slow, and if they’re not, we can leave and try something else...”

“It’s fine,” he rectifies sharply. Again, he sounds too harsh. “I don’t care about any of that. If it’s slow or not. If you want to go, we’ll go. I didn’t...I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I didn’t think it was rude.”

Kiyoomi jerks his chin up, his mouth pressing into a pursed frown, peering skeptically at you, eyes narrowed. You let out a laughed exhale and tilt your head, quickly shrugging your shoulders, attempting to mollify his mistrustful stare. “I mean it!” you insist, waving your hand. “I’ll take someone who’s blunt any day of the week. It’s exhausting trying to read people who are good at hiding behind smiles, or false facades. You always know where you stand when someone is straightforward. Seriously,” you continue, grinning up at his abashed expression, “it doesn’t bother me. Be yourself. Besides, I like it. It kinda makes me jealous…”

“Jealous?” Kiyoomi echoes, watching you step past him and down the darkened street. His heart is beating out that uneven tattoo again, and it feels like he can’t catch his breath. What do you mean, ‘you like his bluntness’? No one’s ever told him that. No one’s ever told him to ‘be himself’ either. And, as if that wasn’t enough for him to chew on, now you’re casually saying that you’re jealous of his unapologetic retorts. It doesn’t make any sense.

“Sure,” you nod, slowing your footfalls, letting him catch up with you as you stride down the sidewalk. “I always lean on the polite side of things, likely because I’ve spent too many years in customer service, haha. So it’s refreshing to hear someone just speak their mind. Besides, you don’t strike me as someone who’s careless with what they say to others; you’re candid, but careful, you just don’t mince your words. Nothing wrong with that. Anyway, I’m babbling, again. Looks like you kinda have that effect on me, huh?”

His lips quirk at your admission and he steps a little closer, the fabric of his jacket wicking across your clothed arm as he matches your pace. “Is it far?” he asks after a time, watching as the lights of the main street twinkle between the lumbering edges of the buildings. 

“Not much farther. But you might wanna put your mask up, we’ll go past the cross street and that area is always a little busy this time of night.”

[ Damn. That’s––The fact that that thought would even cross your mind–– ]

His hand is out of his pocket before he can blink, seeking the soft warmth of your curled fingers, cupping over your knuckles as he heeds your advice with his other, tugging his mask up and pinching it securely over the bridge of his nose. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t pause, doesn’t look down. He likely should have asked. After all, he doesn’t know you that well. But you ease your digits against his, your thumb curling over the joint of his ring finger, and his lips twitch into a smile.

You greet the girl behind the hostess stand with a hug and a few other members of the staff walk up to the table that you select, big grins and booming voices calling out jovial ‘hello’s’ and ‘good to see you’s’.

“You come here a lot?” Kiyoomi inquires, slouching against the cushions of the booth, obsidian eyes peering around the space. The table is off to the side, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main dining area and bar, and is half covered by a glass wall that provides the two of you with an extra buffer of privacy. It’s an ideal spot, and he’s inwardly grateful that you’d chosen it. 

“I used to work here,” you answer, lifting your purse onto your lap before fishing around for something within the depths of the leather. “I–ah! Here it is. I always lose stuff in here, it’s like a black hole, no matter how many times I organize it, it goes right back to being a mess. Price you pay when you have a big bag, I guess.” You lift a small bottle of hand sanitizer out and dollop some onto your palm. He blinks, following the rapid motions of your hands as you clean them off with the solution. That’s...nice. Nice feels like a strange word for this observation, but it’s true. You spy his gwaping expression and hold the bottle out, nodding your head at his coiled fingers. “Want some?”

“Thanks,” he rumbles, mimicking your motions as he eases the cold sanitizer against his chapped hands. “So you worked here?”

“Yeah! I did this and the coffee shop for a while. I was behind the bar, mostly. It was a good job, but when things picked up with my degree plan, I had to drop it.”

“Ah,” Kiyoomi hums, pulling his mask off and tucking it carefully into the pocket of his jacket. “That’s why you knew it wouldn’t be busy.”

“Yup! Tuesdays and Wednesdays are always slow. This is likely the busiest it will get. They have food here too, if you’re hungry. Got some good sushi and the agedashi tofu is one of the best in the city.”

“I already ate.” [ Shit. ]

“Ohh-kay. Well, I’m probably going to get something. They’ve got non-alcoholic drinks as well. Should be at the bottom of the menu.”

“I said I don’t like bars, not that I don’t drink.” [ Fuck. ]

“Fair enough,” you shrug, cocking your head at his clenched jaw and averted eyes. “You see anything you want?”

“Sorry,” Kiyoomi sighs, lifting the paper menu and scanning the side that lists the specials.

“I told you,” your voice is soft, and he glances up at you, glad to see that you’re still smiling happily at him, “I don’t mind. Tell you what, if you go too far I’ll let you know, sound good?” You stretch your hand toward him, bunching your fingers, except for your pinky, which is waiting, outstretched, and reaching toward him.

“What?” he asks, chin dipping and heavy brows furrowing as he eyes your hand suspiciously. 

“Whaddya’ mean, ‘what?’ It’s a pinky promise. You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve never done this before,” he deadpans, blinking slowly. 

You guffaw and the burst of joyous sound makes him snicker too, his shoulders easing from that all too familiar hunch, his head ducking, the faint stain of a blush seeping over his cheeks. It’s just a laugh, he reasons, annoyed by his flushed skin and twitching fingers. Why is he getting worked up? He takes a second to refocus, but when he does, you’re still waiting for him, your pinky wiggling, blithely enticing him. 

“It’s easy,” you promise. “You just hook your smallest finger with mine and we shake once on it and boom, that’s an unbreakable promise. And, well, if it kills you then I guess you’ll go down in a book of world records or something.”                        

Kiyoomi scoffs at your jab and lifts his arm onto the table, holding his pinky out, waiting for you to make the last move, rolling his eyes at your dramatically slow approach.  

Your touch is gentle, finger ghosting over the middle joint of his pinky, curling slowly, teasingly, before it wraps around the width of his digit. Then you give him a quick squeeze, swiftly bobbing your joined fingers in a mock shake. It’s over in an instant, but you maintain the touch, gradually untwining your crooked digits. “Your fingers are long,” you observe, eyes catching his before traveling back to that lingering connection, distractedly easing your fingertip down the line of his hand and pausing against the base of his wrist. 

It feels like his entire arm is electrified and a fine shiver of goose flesh breaks across his warm skin. His mouth is open, lips parted as he sucks in a shallow drag of air and he can’t stop staring, wholly enraptured by your flirtatious strokes. When your eyes rake upwards to playfully find his, that pleased smile soft against your lips, he thinks he might just lurch forward and grab you. 

“There,” you beam before pulling away. “Now that that’s done, what are you gonna’ order?”

He lets you place your drink order first, saying he needs to keep looking, that it has been a while since he’s had a drink, and he’s never been all that sure of his preferences, anyway. 

It’s an unexpected admission. 

If there’s one thing that you’ve been relatively sure of, it’s that Sakusa is a man who doesn’t hesitate. In the two years that you’ve known him, granted from the other side of the counter of a coffee shop, he’s always known what he wants and is confident in his selections. He can rattle them off by rote, by flavor, by taste, by temperature, so seeing him this off balance, a little frazzled and out of his depth, is a bit of a surprise. 

He’s not fidgety, his hands are resting placidly in his lap, feet evenly placed on the floor, but you can tell there’s an underlying thrum of agitation behind all those half ducked glances he keeps giving you, his obsidian eyes sharp, gleaming like flints each time they linger against you. He’d laughed once, before you’d squeezed his pinky with yours, and then promptly fallen back into that sullen silence, answering your questions with one word quips or hushed murmurs. 

It made you feel guilty. 

He said he hated bars, so maybe you should have taken that admission a little more seriously. But out of all the places the two of you could go, this late at night in downtown Osaka, you’d figured that this was likely the quietest, the one where he’d feel the most comfortable. 

“So you’ve played with them for two years?” you ask, giving your server a quick thanks as they sit your drink down. “That’s impressive. But you said you went to school for four? That’s different. I bet most players skip college and go right for the pros, so why didn’t you do that?”

“Volleyball isn’t everything,” he answers, tone clipped, matter of fact, as he watches you take a sip of your drink, waiting for the clink of the ice and the gentle clatter of the glass as you set it back down on the table before he continues. “I’m not invincible. Someday I won’t be able to play. And it makes sense to have a backup, something that I can do later.”

You pop your chin into your upturned palm, lips resting against your curled fingers. “True. You’re very thorough, you know?” 

Sakusa’s forehead creases, and those two perfectly stacked moles lower over his right eyebrow. “I like to do things properly, that’s all. It just feels right. To take things one step at a time. I do that with everything. I guess most see it as something repetitive, or monotonous, all those basic tasks that you do day in, day out, but I like it. And if you think of them as mindful tasks, rather than mindless, then you can get to that point where those little things become pleasure, instead of drudgery. I know that I’m not guaranteed anything, but, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to go out, to leave volleyball, satisfied. Knowing I did my best.”

It sounds stupid to his ears, pompous, and as soon as he finishes his preamble, he lets out an inaudible sigh, teeth worrying against the soft flesh of the inside of his mouth. Damn it. Why did he say all that? What’s the point? You’d only asked him about college and here he is, rattling off his ideologies and distant thoughts. Why did he–

“That’s...that’s a cool way of looking at it.” 

His jaw is gritted, his face covered by a sheen of impassive blankness. But he looks up when you say that. He wants to see you, even if it’s only to take in your bewildered amusement. But you’re not giving him some piteous smirk, no, you’re looking at him like he’s helped you solve a long awaited puzzle, and your face is filled with the softest, haziest glimmer of ardent happiness that he’s ever seen. Your smile broadens, and he looks away, fingers feeling blindly for the pulse in his lowered wrist. 

His heart’s pounding. 

How do you do that? Then, as he tries to steady his shaking breaths, you lean back, lifting your glass to your parted lips to take a quick sip, a distant look in your eyes.

“You know, I’ve never really thought about it that way, but you’re right. I always have so much trouble explaining that mindset to new hires. Like, how do you tell them that, yeah, while this seems like a stupid thing we have you do, to keep busy during the slow period of the day, it matters in the long run. Take our cleaning routines, if you don’t clean something, and clean it diligently, then the gunk and grime builds up, and it’s harder to get out later. Things harden, become set in their ways, and I guess the same thing can happen to the pros too. It seems like most don’t go to school. They just slip right into the sport–after all, if you’re good enough to make it onto a division ranked team right out of high school, then there you go, that’s your end goal, right? 

But I like that you took the little steps, the ones that people ignore, or try to bypass. It’s another sort of preparedness, really. Others may not see it that way, might think of it as wasted time, but you did what felt right for you and I know it’ll pay off. It’s–oh! Sorry! I’m babbling again! Ha, God, I’m gonna stop, okay?”

“You don’t have to,” Kiyoomi utters, arms lifting from his lap, pressing against the smooth wood of the table, ignoring the racing of his heart. “I liked it. I’m glad that you...I liked it. Keep talking. I like hearing you talk. And, uh, can I try your drink? I know nothing about gin, or whiskey, or whatever that is. I usually just stick to beer and sake.”

You bite your lip, a soft chuckle falling between the two of you, and press two fingers bashfully against your nose, covering your giddy smile and pushing your drink forward, toward his open palms. “It’s kinda nice to know that I’m not the only one who’s flustered. Hmm, but here. If you don’t drink much, then you may not have had this before. Sorry if it’s strong. Also, I go for brown liquor, so it’s got rye for the base.”

“Rye’s a whiskey, right?” he asks, pushing the tiny black straw aside and taking a careful swig from the rim of the glass. It’s got a smooth flavor, almost like the caramel notes of his doppio con panna, but without that cloying sweetness that sometimes sits against the back of his tongue when he’s finished. Instead of the hum of sugar, there is only a shiver of bitterness and then the quick bite of the alcohol is gone, passing over his teeth and down his throat in a single gulp. 

It’s good. 

Better than he expected. And he passes the glass back, his fingers holding against the cool surface, waiting for yours. “I’ll get that,” he tells you, an impish smirk lifting his lips. “It’s perfect.”

After that-and a second round of drinks-the night went a little smoother. He did his best to not lapse into unsociable silences and you did just as he’d asked of you and kept talking. 

You traded the basics, where you were born, talked about your family, your education, degrees, pets, and, slowly, the uncertainty simply faded away. 

You were easy to talk with, impossibly so; always ready with another question, a congenial quip, or an antidote about your own life. Soon he was regaling you about his cousin, Motoya, the latest antics of his teammates, his hopes for the upcoming season, for the 2021 Olympics, for anything that he could think of, anything to keep you in that seat, to keep you chatting with him for just a little longer. 

[ It’s late, but that doesn’t matter. Keep talking, ask her something else. ] 

Is it supposed to feel like this?

He’s never really had a relationship; not when he was in high school or college, and any of his half-formed attractions always fizzled out before they ever really started. He was too busy, too one track minded to notice, [ to care ] to find the time [ to make the time. ] 

It’s certainly not love, [ Tch. Love at first sight, who believes in stuff like that anyway, this isn’t some movie, plus he’s known you for years, so it’s not first sight either ] not yet, but there’s another feeling that’s laced within this humming excitement that keeps bubbling to the surface, that has him hanging onto every word that passes from your lips.

It’s want.

He wants more, greedily so, and he hasn’t experienced that feeling, outside of volleyball, in a long time.

“I’m not too far from here. I’ll just hop on the train and then be back in my district. Easy-peasy.”

Sakusa nods at your jovial reassurances, hoisting his track bag higher against his shoulder, following you toward the lights of the street. It’s late, later than he’s used to, and his eyes feel heavy. The lull of the alcohol isn’t helping either, so he shuffles closer, bumping unevenly against you every few steps. You twist your head toward him, a faint smile on your lips, eyeing his lumbering form skeptically. “Sure I don’t need to walk you to your station, Sakusa? You look dead on your feet. Sorry I kept you out so late.”

“You didn’t,” he sighs, his words rasping past a yawn. “I wanted to stay. I’ll regret it tomorrow. For now, I’m fine.” 

“Pfft, okay, well, I’ll look forward to receiving your annoyed text about me keeping you out past your bedtime in the morning then.”

Huh? Text? You want him to text you in the morning? Can he do that? Be the first person you think of when your notification lights up your dark screen, the first one that you reply to. Shit. What–what does that mean?

Sakusa slows, his hand reaching for you. 

He misses your arm and snags your purse instead, jerking the straps, and by association you, a little harder than he intended. [ Damn it. His coordination’s off. ] You stumble backwards, shoulders bracing against his broad chest, and you blink up at him. You lift your face, looking at him curiously. He’s already peering down, and the glow of the distant street-lamps makes the onyx of his irises morph from jet to a rich blue. For a long breath both of you simply stare, content to watch the other, waiting for some kind of advancement in this stalemate. 

You cave first. “Um, you alright?”

“What are we?” he asks pointedly, large palms running up the sides of your arms, his head tilting, dropping raven curls over his brow. 

“Friends?” you reply, but it feels more like a question than an answer and you let the word hang, unsure what else you can say, what else he wants to hear. You feel a bated breath leave his lungs. It dips you back as his chest falls, slipping you minutely closer even as his hands droop limply from the curve of your shoulders. His eyes shift from yours and his lips fade into a thin line as he steps away, letting you slip from his grasp. The air between you changes, hardening back into that early uncertainty, and by the time you turn to face him fully, his hands are re-tucked into his pockets and his slouch has returned.

“What’s wrong?” 

You know, but you don’t want to assume. You’d warned him after all; you’re not good at being blunt. 

He gives you a frank stare, dark brows creasing, furrowing his expression. “Friends means I can’t kiss you.”

For a moment you can’t feel your heart. You know it’s beating, still diligently pumping blood through your body, but as that declaration leaves his lips it’s like your entire world has narrowed. He wants to...how can he just say that? Just blurt out whatever comes into his head and not care what happens after. Where do you find confidence like that?

You flash your gaze upward and he’s still looking at you, his unmasked face open as he stares, dark eyes watchful, half veiled behind his lashes. 

He waits. He’s good at that, you think, feeling a smile creep across your face as your tongue passes over the swell of your lower lip. He instantly tracks the movement and takes a shallow step forward. You can hear his fingers coiling and uncoiling inside of the slick lining of his pockets, but that simple, near silent admission of his nervousness makes up your mind.

“Well,” you begin, eyes lowering, easing closer, pressing until you can almost feel the heat of him against you. Your hands lift tentatively, passing over the flat, honed planes of his chest until they come to rest against the top of his stomach. His nostrils flare at the tempered stroke but the rest of him remains stock still, wholly rooted to the spot, listening, observing, a glimmer of distant hope cresting against the back of his mind. 

[ Yes. Keep going. Don’t stop. ]

Then, those final, all important words are leaving you, cast into the air. 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Before you can look up at him, his hands are hovering beside your ears, the ghost of his touch urging you upward as he lowers himself over you. 

His lips meet yours with a gentle tap and you can feel his unsteady exhale pass over your mouth as he allows himself to linger against you. It’s more like a press than a proper kiss, but you indulge him, gripping your impatient hands against the thin material of his jacket, giving him time to adjust. He’s featherlight, his lips scratchy, but the lubrication that your swiped tongue has left behind eases the touch and he gasps when you lift to meet him, your lips gliding over his.  

Then he’s wavering; like he can’t decide. 

He shifts away, only to return moments later, lips never fully leaving yours, caressing until you’re doggedly chasing after him, a poorly concealed groan slipping from your throat. He hums appreciatively at your enthusiasm and steps impossibly closer, his fingertips tapping under your jaw and down your neck. 

On one of his shuddering pulls you slip your tongue over his lips, tracing the seam, wordlessly asking for him to deepen the kiss. The sound he makes in return is garbled, caught against his throat and lost in the shuffle of his hands, his breath, his want. 

His arms are like steel cables as they twine around your waist, holding you to him as he finally opens, his teeth clattering against yours in his rush. You smile against his eagerness and pop onto the tips of your toes, hands releasing his jacket, sliding up his face before you let your fingers coil into his obsidian curls, your teeth nipping against his dampened lip. He lets out another hushed gasp, the flat of his palm warm against your shoulder blades as he urges you upward.  

“You’re — mmm, you’re too tall, Sakusa,” you complain, finally easing away from his greedy kisses, and grinning when he follows. 

“Kiyoomi,” he insists, hands cupping, thumbs tracing the edge of your jaw, dropping another kiss against your upturned lips. “Call me that. I want to hear it.”

You laugh and he huffs impatiently against you, brows folding into that deep crease. “Not joking,” he grumbles, lips and breath hot against yours, “I want to hear you say it.” 

When you manage, at long last, to pull away from him again, your eyes bright, lips kiss shined and swollen, he knows this image of you will be etched into his mind for weeks to come. It’s perfect [ you’re perfect ] and all he can think about is that he wants so much more. 

“Kiyoomi,” you call, head canted at his staggered expression, eyes glittering with fond amusement. “You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?”

He scowls at your question and tugs you back, kissing you until your laugh fades away and his name comes a little easier.

[ You: 9:18am ]

You sure you want to go there? I don’t care if we do something else instead, your call.

[ Kiyoomi: 10:54am ]

Got the tickets. See you after your shift.

“Bringing your phone onto the court–ballsy move Omi,” Atsumu leers, dropping his bag beside Kiyoomi’s, a troublesome smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi snaps, darkening the screen with a click and placing the device beside his trainers. “At least I know how to keep it hidden. And you’re the reason we’re banned from bringing them out here at all. You and your stupid snapchat stories.”

“Omi! Ya’ big jerk! Be quiet, ya’ know yer’ not supposed to mention that app where the coaches can–”

“Miya!” a booming voice calls from across the gym, “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing! If I catch you on that phone, you can expect to do a hundred serves at the end of this practice match! Got it?”

Kiyoomi scoffs, a lackadaisical grin ghosting over his lips as he neatly dodges Atsumu’s elbowed jab. “See? I’m not the problem here.”

“Such a jackass. It’s a miracle (Y/N) is even giving you the time of day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kiyoomi bristles, heavy brows creasing. 

“Means I don’t know what she sees in ya,’ you big dummy. Where you taking her this week?”

“Why do you care?”

“Damn it. Why do I bother? I mean really, am I some kinda masochistic or something? Yer’ terrible to talk with, but here I am, attempting some harmless small-talk. Cut a guy some slack, would ya’?”

“What are you talking about?” Kiyoomi stares, onyx eyes narrowing at Atusmu’s haggard expression. 

“You! I’m just trying to have a conversation, you know, checking in, seeing how yer’ doing. Making sure you haven’t screwed things up yet. Ya’ know, being polite!” Atsumu glowers, golden hair falling over one umber eye as he flashes Kiyoomi a fixed glare.

“What would I screw up?”

Atsumu lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Tell you what, ask me that question again when you do, how’s that sound?”

“Miya–”

“Bringing your phone to practice, coming in late, or right before things kick off, yeah, you got it bad, don’t cha’? You better watch yer’self Omi.”

“The hell you talking about?” Kiyoomi sneers, chin lowering, steeling himself for one of Atsumu’s long-winded tangents. 

“God, yer’ so dense, especially with shit that’s not volleyball. Come on, Omi, use your head. The coaches, the managers, they’re all gonna try and make you pick. That’s what they do. She’s a nice girl, and I’d hate to see her get caught up in all of that bullshit. Stop gaping at me like that! Like I’m not making any sense! I’m trying to look out for ya’! Not that you deserve it, being such a prickly asshole, and all...”

Kiyoomi sighs, lips pursing into a sharp point, his shoulders slumping forward, arms hanging limply against his sides. Fine, he’ll engage. Whatever. If it’ll get Atsumu to explain whatever the hell he’s talking about before the practice match, he reasons, then it’ll be worth it. “We’re going to the museum in Tennoji Park.”

Atsumu stares. “Damn. You agreed to go to a public park? In the daytime? That’s real big, if true.”

“I’ll serve every ball directly at the back of your head, don’t think I won’t.”

“Alright, alright,” the setter laughs, propping his hands against his hips. “Shocked yer’ not just staying close to that one restaurant. You seem like a, ‘this is what I like and I’m sticking to it’ kinda guy. Not one to branch out. You know, boring.”

“How do you know about the restaurant?” 

“She told me about it?”

Kiyoomi curls his lip over his teeth. “When did she do that?”

“The other day, went by for a coffee.”

“Ugh,” he huffs, swinging one arm across his chest, stretching out the muscles of his biceps. “What else did she say?”

Atsumu grins, bracing his forearm against Kiyoomi’s shoulder, waggling his brows mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Fine. I’ll just ask her.”

“Ughhh, zero fun. That’s what you are. Tell me, ya’ got a mode that’s not: ‘Sakusa Kiyoomi, ‘the world’s most boring man’,” Atsumu groans, head dropping as he lets his body hang limply off of Kiyoomi’s stiffened form.

“Shut up. What we do isn’t your business anyway, so enough with the questions. You’re just poking your nose in shit that doesn’t concern you,” Kiyoomi accuses, shrugging Atsumu’s heavy arm off of his, glaring.

Atsumu straightens, a quiet scoff puffing between his smirked lips. “Fine. So touchy today. And you think this crap ain’t gonna bleed into your playing? Yer’ way–”

“Line up!” the assistant coach booms, silencing Atsumu’s bristled retort. Kiyoomi opts to hold his tongue, letting the setter pace away from him, eyes narrowing while sucking in a steadying breath before he follows. 

Damn it. He got so caught up in––Atsumu never told him what he meant.

It’s early afternoon and the broad concrete pathways of the park are mostly empty. The spring flowers are in bloom and the ginkgo trees sway in the crisp breeze that dips in from the sea. It’s a beautiful day, but Kiyoomi can’t shake himself out of his head.

He’d stared dutifully at the portraits in the museum, read the placards that rested below the painted screens and pottery, and listened when you asked him questions, or answered his own. He shouldn’t be like this, he fumes, adjusting the ear straps of his mask as the two of you step out into the bright sunlight once more. 

Who cares what Atsumu was trying to imply. It was vague and unhelpful; likely meant to get under his skin, something that–

“You alright?” Your voice shakes him out of his thoughts and he looks down at you, brows unknotting, eyes softening as they rake over your curious face. 

“Yeah. Miya said something at practice that I’m having trouble forgetting.”

“Oh? What?”

He tells you, and it feels like some of the tension leaves his shoulders. It’s nice.

Usually he’s guarded, quiet. Sure, he’ll let others know what he’s thinking with little finesse, but that doesn’t mean they know the truth of what’s on his mind. This is different. With you it’s easy to disassemble, unexpectedly so. It’s only been a month since the two of you started seeing each other, but in that time he’s opened up more to you than he has to anyone, outside of his family, and he’s still not sure if he likes that.

[ That’s a lie. He likes it; he does. He’s just not used to it. ]

“Make you pick?” you ask, skimming your hand over the red railing of the bridge, head cocked thoughtfully to the side. “He actually said that?”

“Mentioned it. Like I said, Miya talks in circles. I usually just tune him out, but this felt...different.”

“Hmm,” you ponder, easily keeping up with his long strides, your body close to his. “Well, maybe he means they, the coaches that is, don’t want you to be distracted? I could see that. I mean, you are playing at an extremely high level and next year is the Olympics. Damn, it feels strange to say that. I know someone who’s playing in the Olympics…”

“I know that. And I’m not distracted,” his tone is clipped and his chin ducks, his side swept curls fanning over his left eye. 

You look over at his tensed expression and puff out an exhale of air. “Well, maybe he’s just messing with you? You said he likes to do that.”

“Told you, this felt different.” The words are sharp, punctuated by his clenched jaw and the forward roll of his shoulders, and you suck your teeth softly, staring across the shimmering surface of the pond as the two of you cross the last stretch of the bridge. You’re on the back foot here, a little unsure of how to reassure him, but you can tell he wants to shake this off, so you press the issue, hoping it’ll help ease that stiff tension that’s building in his shoulders.  

“Okay, it felt different. How so?”

The words come without hesitation. [ This isn’t normal for him, but it’s also so damn nice to know that he can be this comfortable with someone. ] “Miya usually babbles. Goes on and on about the most inane things. But he also loves to chatter about his reasoning, and this time he didn’t. Instead of answering my question, he gave me that shitty smirk and changed the subject to something he knew would distract me––why else would he say he’d gone by the coffee shop?”

“I mean, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he seems like the kinda guy who likes to provoke–to see if he can get a reaction out of you and...I know it’s not much of a reason, but maybe that’s all that it was?”

Kiyoomi gives you a curt nod and picks up his pace, his hands coiling into clenched fists within the confines of his pockets. You follow him, unsure if you should strike up another line of conversation or let him simmer for a bit. You opt for the latter and turn your attention to the scenery of the parklands, quietly studying the picnicking couples and laughing clusters of children that jostle beside a nearby set of monkey bars. No matter his mood, it’s a lovely day and you’re still glad he’d agreed to come with you to the park. 

But when the trail reaches the main street, you pause. “Hey, you wanna call it a day?” you ask, a soft smile on your lips. If he needs time, you rationalize, then you can give him that. 

Kiyoomi jerks to a stop, his heavy brows furrowing as he stares down at you. “What? No,” he grumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of his mask. 

You raise your hands in a gesture of supplication, palms facing his looming form. “It’s just...you seem like you’re upset...”

“I am upset,” Kiyoomi answers frankly, his breath heavy. 

His honesty never fails to catch you off balance, and you laugh cheerfully at his stoic expression. Kiyoomi promptly fixes you with a perturbed stare, his eyes narrowing. “Kiyoomi, if you’re upset, then we should head back. You don’t have to stick around me if you want space, I totally–– ”

“I don’t want space. I want to be here, with you,” he bites, stepping closer, watching as your grin fades into a perplexed gape. 

For a breath you’re flabbergasted, lips parted, eyes wide, but with a shake of head you step forward, your arm twining with his, and dipped forehead pressing against the sleek material of his jacket. “Alright, then stay with me,” you smile, hands squeezing against his coiled muscles, a pleased warmth spreading up your joined arms before flowing downward, into the pit of your stomach.

The contact, as muted as it is by the shell of his track jacket, makes him shiver and he can feel the thump of his heart speed up. It presses against his ribs and makes his chest feel tight and his head light, and when your fingers slip into the warmth of his pocket, your smooth digits tracing the knuckles of his hand, he lets out a contented sigh before lightly brushing his chin over the top of your bent head.

“Come on,” he murmurs, the rich tone of his deep voice dampened by the stretch of his mask, but you can still hear the creep of his smile within the clipped words, “I’ve got an idea.”

You’ve walked past the training facility plenty of times, so many that it’s a blip on your radar now, its jagged silhouette falling into the category of mundane, but never, not in a million years, did you ever see yourself actually passing through those glass doors.

It’s a massive space. 

The blazing down-lights scatter brightness over the finely polished elastic flooring. You’d worn comfortable shoes to the park, but they still scuff loudly against the unfamiliar material so you stop gawping and look toward Kiyoomi’s arched shoulders. 

“Uh, are you sure we can be in here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice down, but it reverberates around the vast space and you wrinkle your nose at the sharpness of the sound. 

“Yes. I work here,” Kiyoomi answers simply, tugging his mask down and stopping just short of one of the white lines, cocking his dark head at your question.

“Okay,” you snicker, rolling your eyes playfully at his static features, “let me rephrase that, are you sure I can be here?”

“Why would you being here be a problem? Practice is done for the day. It’ll be fine. Worst case, Bokuto or Miya might show,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders, a faint smile passing over his lips. “So what do you say, you wanna try to play?”

A full-throated laugh bubbles out of you, and you shake your head frantically. “No way! You’ll either kill me with one of those terrifying spikes, or be bored out of your mind trying to teach me the ropes. Besides, I haven’t played volleyball since middle school, and even then, I’m, uh, not sure a quick rotation in a 40 minute P.E. class counts as playing. It was more like all of us kids screwing around and testing out how many times we could annoy our teacher.”

He snorts at your explanation and strides over to a dark red cart, digging one of his long arms into the depths before straightening and returning with a yellow and blue Mikasa ball that’s perfectly balanced within his broad palm. “Humor me,” he smirks, one brow quirking upward. 

“Tch, I’m not wearing the right clothes...or shoes,” you bemoan jovially, but you’re already letting your purse slip from your shoulders.

“So whiny,” Kiyoomi tuts, stepping away from the cart and tossing the ball rapidly between his spread hands. “That doesn’t matter. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” you tease, a beguiling smile lifting your lips. He looks so good in here, you think, admiring the flex and bounce of his hands, the lean coil of his powerful neck that peeks from underneath his track jacket, so different from the stoic man who walked beside you in the park. 

As soon as he touched the ball, his entire demeanor changed. Within the space of a few seconds he’d gone from hunched and brooding to dauntless and firm, all of his early agitation and uncertainty forgotten as he slipped into the comfort of his element. 

“All right, coach,” you sigh with mock dejection, “where do you want me?”

“On the other side of the net. See that line? The first one past the netting? That’s the attack line. Stand there.” 

He’s clear-cut in his instruction, telling you where to plant your feet and how to stand with the correct form. You listen intently, nodding or asking one or two clarifying questions, and he’s patient with your queries, answering you swiftly and thoroughly, obsidian eyes keen as they follow your movements across the net. 

“Alright, that looks good. We’re going to do a simple drill, the catch and throw. Don’t worry about setting the ball, or receiving it with your arms, see how it feels to position yourself under it, just make sure it never gets behind you, and catch it with both hands and toss it back to me. Try and keep it in an easy arc.”

You blink at him, pulling your lips into an exaggerated frown. “Just catch it? That sounds too easy…”

“It’s meant to be. It teaches you how to see the ball. If you’re wanting something harder, I can always up the speed as you get better at it. Now, you ready?”

You nod and the ball lifts from his fingers in a flash, gliding over the net cleanly, and you shift back, arms outstretched, feet planted firmly against the slick flooring. You catch it neatly and mimic his overhand toss, sending it back to Kiyoomi’s half crouched form. But the arc isn’t controlled and the ball paps against the tape of the net, screwing up the trajectory and sending it shuddering toward the gym floor. 

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at your clumsy return, but he’s already moving, his form a blur. He slides under it easily, back curved under his well-muscled legs, all ten fingers spread, as he neatly catches the ball, sending it prettily back to your side. 

You’re so mesmerized by the fluidity of his supple form that you completely ignore the returning ball and it slaps against the floor with a crack. Always the professional, he’s intently watching the ball’s trajectory and doesn’t notice your open stare at first, but once his dark eyes flash back to yours a faint blush seeps across the well-cut apples of his cheeks and he ducks his head, obscuring his flush with a cascade of onyx curls. “That’s one point for me,” he sighs, his voice low, tone gruffly catching over the words as he studiously avoids your awed expression. 

“Points?” you repeat dumbly, snapping your mouth closed before popping your hands on your hips, forcing yourself out of your stupor. “Hey! You didn’t say anything about points.”

“It’s a game,” he counters with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “of course there’s gonna be points.”

“Pfft,” you chortle as you walk toward the discarded volleyball. “What happened to this is just a drill?”

Thirty minutes later your hands are aching and you move sluggishly as your feet squeak over the polished flooring of the court. Kiyoomi, on the other hand, looks perfectly at ease, his eyes hungrily stalking the track of the ball as it flies to his side of the court. When you miss the next lightning quick toss that he sends your way, you drop your head and lift your hands, palms flattened and facing toward him, signaling your defeat as a heaving exhale leaves your straining lungs. “I think that’s it for me. I’m about to collapse onto the floor, like seriously. This is not a joke.” 

Kiyoomi huffs out a bemused laugh and ducks under the netting, pausing beside your half crouched figure. He peers down at you through the lazy waves of his hair. You look staggered from the constant shuffling and overhand tosses, but you smile up at him and he can’t help but return it.

“I may be down for the count, but it looks like you wanna keep going,” you say coyly, eyes shining under the brilliance of the lights. [ You’re so pretty ] He [ wants to kiss you again ] sucks in a shallow breath and mutely nods at your assessment. [ Don’t go. ] 

“Well,” you begin, lips falling into a thoughtful pout, arms twisting behind your back, “In that case, I’ve got some things that I need to finish up, anyway.”

[ No. Don’t go. Not yet. ]

“I left my laptop at the cafe, so I’ll head that way. Maybe I can see you–”

“Use mine.” The words leave him with a sigh, his voice hushed, but you hear him and your head whips up.

“What–I’m sorry, what?”

“Use my laptop. It’s here, in my locker.” [ Should he have said, please? He’ll say it, if that will get you to stay a little longer. ]  

“You don’t...that’s not necessary–– ”

“I know. I want to,” he closes the distance between the two of you, his hand ghosting up the line of your arm. “Stay. If you want to.” 

You contemplate his request, tapping a finger against your bottom lip, the flicker of a grin catching at the corners of your mouth. Finally, you nod.

[ Good. ] 

He can feel his pulse against his eardrums and he feels jittery now but through that excited haze he tells you he’s going to change into his gym clothes and grab it, that there’s an outlet under the scorer’s table that sits at the edge of the court, and that he’ll be right back. He’s not sure why he feels the need to elaborate, that’s not like him, but he’s doing a lot of things that don’t feel like him these days.

He likes you; he thinks as he steps toward the double doors that will take him into the locker room. 

He likes you so much.  

When he returns, he’s wearing a dark pair of shorts and a bright yellow shirt emblazoned with the words Itachiyama VBC across his left pectoral. The laptop is propped under his muscled arm and he walks slowly toward you, dark eyes watching you thoughtfully. But you’re not meeting his gaze. No, your regard falls to the curve of his calves and the sharp jut of his ankles before you track back up to his thighs and linger over the ripple and pull of the corded brawn that peeks from under the line of his shorts, and it takes him clearing his throat to lure your eyes back up to his burning face.  

You’ve seen him in his MSBY uniform, and you’ve seen him in various outfits over the last month, but the way you’re watching him right now makes his skin prickle and the air around the two of you feels charged, like the smallest push could create some kind of reaction. 

He pauses beside the table and waits for you to sit before he leans down, one leg shaking restlessly under him as he clacks his passcode across the black keys. He’s lifting his right hand to click ‘enter,’ when you cup your hand under his jaw. 

Kiyoomi quavers under your touch, a low shiver slipping up his spine as he twists to face you, his heavy brows arched and onyx eyes wide. He’s perfectly level with you and so close he can faintly smell your lavender shampoo. It’s a nice scent, lulling and woodsy and he wants to shift closer, but before he can act on his instinct you’re already leaning upwards and using your fingertips to dip his head forward, your lips pressing a chaste kiss against his topmost mole, breath warm against his heated skin. 

“Thank you,” you purr, delicately resting the tip of your nose against his curled hair. 

It feels like his body is sputtering to a halt, his arms heavy, his head desperately following your touch as you shift back, a half groaned sigh tight against his split lips. His fingers are twitching against the cool surface of the table and he knows he must look like an absolute idiot when he lifts his eyes back to yours, but he doesn’t care. 

He’s glad you’re going to stay.

“Question for you,” you ask from your perch on the scorer’s table, your fingers flying over the computer keys as you clatter out another email. “How the hell do your hands do that?” 

Kiyoomi smirks at your curious amusement and flips his wrists deftly upwards, easing onto his haunches, flicking his fingers out and rolling his newly stretched wrists as he finishes his final cool down routine. “It’s called joint hyper-mobility. Most lose it when they get older, I’ve been lucky.”

The two of you have been at the training facility for hours. You’d dutifully finished up some last-minute work enquiries and partially outlined the basics for your upcoming grant proposal, while Kiyoomi worked on his spin rotation and spikes.  

You’d watched him intermittently, teeth plucking at the swell of your lower lip each time he lept into the air for a jump serve, or dropped low to the ground as he dug another ball up from his hit to the nearby wall, so you’d noticed when he’d finished his first water bottle. He’d set the plastic down, the tap ringing hollowly over the quiet gym, and rose from your folding chair, making your way over, already asking him where a water station was. 

When you’d returned, passing the newly filled bottle back to him, your fingers stroked up his arm and swirled faint patterns against his clammy skin as he steadied the plastic in his grasp. And later, when you’d refilled his second water bottle, you’d pushed some of his raven waves back, lifting onto the balls of your feet to tuck the dampened strands behind the shell of his ear.

He was a sweaty mess, but that didn’t bother you.

Usually he didn’t like for others to touch him when he was like this. Something about the sheen and prickle of the salty perspiration bothered him, [ disgusted him ] so he actively shunned his teammates when they sought high fives during a game, but this was different.

The instant your fingers alighted against his skin he’d felt a jolting lurch of electricity, but instead of pulling from it, he’d leaned into it, draping his broad palm over your tracing digits, or resting his warm cheek against your open hand, eyes half lidded as they watched for your reaction.

He liked this. 

“Hey, Kiyoomi? Uh, hello, Earth to Kiyoomi! You listening?”

The sound of your voice jerks him from his musings, and he glances at you. “Hmm?”

“I said, how do you feel about a low-key dinner?”

“I’d prefer it,” Kiyoomi replies, easing from his haunches to his feet, rolling his long arms over his head as he stands.

“Yeah, but I mean...low-key, low-key.”

He fixes you with a flat stare, his face falling into that well practiced blankness, obsidian eyes dimmed. “What does that mean?”

“Well, I’ve got some things that I’ve been meaning to cook and, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is...did you want to maybe have dinner at my apartment? I know you’re picky about how your food is prepared, so if you wanna go out instead, that’s fine too. I won’t be offended. I just wanted to– ”

“I’d like that, but...can you cook?” he rumbles, a teasing smile coiling against his lips. 

“Oh, I see. No, you got me. Totally can’t. I just wanted to know if you’d suffer through burnt rice, and then lie and tell me you’d liked it, or some shit,” you threaten, sticking your tongue out and scrunching your face at his blatant leer. 

“Don’t worry, I’d definitely tell you.”

“Pfft. You’re the worst, you know that? Now go shower. If we wait too long, we’ll hit rush hour at the station and I bet that’s pretty high on your list of things to avoid at all costs.”

Your apartment is small.

Well, compared to his. But his place is an empty shell, brittle, almost sterile in its vacant emptiness. He’s not there often, so why fill it with more than the bare essentials? It’s got what he needs, and he’s never been bothered by the Spartan coldness of the tiles and dark wood, that is, until he steps into your space. 

There’s so much color. 

The living room is blanketed in a mix of cheery yellows, warm reds, and deep purples. It’s not displeasing, but it makes him pause within the confines of the genkan, onyx eyes wide under his raised brows. It’s a difference. Now there’s an unexpected worry that’s pricking at the front of his mind.

“You coming?” you ask, poking your head around the cut of the wall that divides your living room from your kitchen, peering curiously at his tense expression.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, easing his trainers off of his feet. This place reminds him that there’s still so much about you he doesn’t know. 

So, to alleviate himself from his lingering trepidations, he peers curiously around the apartment.   

Most of your furniture is Western. And while there is a traditional chabudai beside your kitchen and a familiar kotatsu that rests beneath the glass doors of your balcony, the rest of the room is decorated with cushioned couches, stiff-backed chairs, neatly organized shelving units, a large tv and stand, and several side tables that hold a mixture of lamps, artfully stacked books, picture frames and candles. 

He’s still gazing over the plethora of things when you appear beside his elbow. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself at home. The remote for the tv should be on the kotatsu. You alright with soba stir fry and okonomiyaki for dinner? It’s easy, well, quick...”

“That’s fine,” Kiyoomi breathes, voice muted as his eyes rake over one of your bookshelves. “You could have taken one at the gym, you know...a shower.”

“Oh-ho, sure! Like a shower at your gym doesn’t come with the awful possibility that one of your teammates or, god forbid, coaches could have walked in. Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckle, shaking your head as you pad over to the small hallway that separates your kitchen and living space from the rest of your apartment. “I won’t be long. Please do not rob me, kay’?”

Kiyoomi blatantly scoffs at your remark but doesn’t look up until he hears the click of your bathroom door. Instantly, his feet carry him toward your collection of books and miscellany, one long finger tracing up paper spines. He will not miss this opportunity. 

He’s curious, ravenously so.

There are small bowls that are filled with a mismatch of silver and gold jewelry, peeling bound novels with English titles printed down their spines, and asymmetric jars that carry the weight of seashells that gleam translucent and bright against the dimming sunlight.

Beaming smiles radiate from your collection of pictures. Some are snapshots of you and others who look enough like you he assumes they must be your family, while other images are older, with people dressed in vintage clothing, the photos sheened in dull greys and time blown sepia rather than vibrant, modern colors. 

Then there are the books. The room is littered with them. Most are organized within the confines of the shelves, but a few are stacked on the kotatsu and he flips open one cover, eyes scanning the orderly lines of Japanese that dart down the pages.   

There’s just so much here, so many little pieces of you that are scattered about, and he wants to see...no, he wants to ask you about all of it. 

Dazed, he leaves the open space of the living room and steps toward the kitchen. It’s less cluttered in here, and he can smell the faint tang of bleach and lemon as he moves onto the dark tiles. Clearly, the fastidious habits you’ve displayed at the cafe are ingrained into your daily routines. 

Cleanliness and routine. You’ll always have that in common.

His roving observations falter at your fridge. It’s covered in a scattered array of playful magnets, pinning down lists and newer Polaroids and he steps closer, index finger extended once more as he glides the digit down the faded ink and shine of the photos. Resting atop one of the larger check-lists is a crisp slip of cardstock. It’s clearly been given pride of place and Kiyoomi curves himself downward, somber brows wrinkling as he reads the print.

The departments of Anthropology, History, Languages, and Education invite you to attend:

The Deans Meeting

10th Annual Conference & New Faculty Welcome Event

Thursday, April 23rd

6:30 - 9:30 p.m.

Graduate School of Human Sciences, Osaka University

(Number Attending: ____ *limit of one guest per invitee)

Kiyoomi straightens, raking a hand up through his loose curls. The 23rd? That’s a month...no...almost five weeks away. He slips his cellphone out of his jacket, thumb tapping over to his calendar. It’s a Friday...but good, there’s no game that day–however there is a team meeting. If he asks now, he should be able to be excused from the meeting and maybe the mid-day practice as well. You haven’t mentioned this event to him, he muses, fingers rapidly tapping the date into his reminders, but it looks important and he wants to go with you, if you’ll let him. 

He hears the telltale shudder of your shower’s cut-off valve and he turns, ready to walk back to the neutral safety of your living room when he spies a haphazardly cracked doorway that clearly leads into your bedroom. His feet are carrying him around the low base of the chabudai, and before he can justify his impulsive [ curious, hungry ] reasoning he’s already leaning in, unabashedly looking over the space. 

The room is dark; the dusky light of the sunset is muffled by the curtains that drape over the large window, but Kiyoomi marvels, obsidian eyes whisking over the small space, greedily taking in the neat folds of your downy comforter, the soft pillows that nestle under the headboard, and the fan that sits atop the tatami mats. It smells like you in here; the chilled air holds the gentle scent of rich florals and spice and he wants to step closer, but then his hand is catching against the doorframe and he jerks back, hurriedly gulping down a sharp breath as his black hair slumps over his hooded eyes. 

It’s...it’s not...he shouldn’t have looked. It’s not polite, but damn, he almost doesn’t care.

What would it be like to step past that threshold? To walk into something that’s so saturated with you? He feels like his skin is too close, too heavy, and he wants nothing more than to stretch out on the cool sheets of your bed to ease that simmer that’s thrumming under his heated flesh.

Wait. A bed. You have a bed. 

Shit. 

Kiyoomi’s always been content with his futon, satisfied with the simplicity of it. He’s always considered beds to be a waste of space, unnecessary, after all, he’s just sleeping on it. Why did it matter? 

Unanswered questions whir around his half cocked head. What if you don’t like futons? If you think they’re uncomfortable, or inconvenient? Besides, now he’s picturing laying with you on a bed, [ this bed ] not a futon. Kiyoomi wants to see you stretched out beside him, comfortable and happy, with that tantalizing smile and those playful eyes watching him, waiting for him. What side do you prefer? Right? Left? And then? What happens when you’ve picked your spot and settled in? 

Would you want him to shift closer? Could he run his palms past your arms and down the sloping curves of your hips? Would you do the same for him? What would your nails feel like as they scratched faint lines along his sides, over the muscles of his abdomen, or down his back? You’d be so close. So close that every sigh that passed between your lips would be shared with him and he’d inhale every sound, his lips rough against yours. And if you arched into him, your hands urging him to straddle himself over your intoxicating softness, your thighs spreading as he lowers his hips––  

The bathroom door clicks and the fevered daydream fades, his feet cumbersome and tangled as he lumbers back to the living room, his heart pounding in his ears. He doesn’t like this breathlessness, doesn’t like that his hands are trembling as he stuffs them into his pockets. Any second now you’ll be in front of him and he wants to hold you, to let the pull of your hands and the sleek drag of your lips satiate the feel [ throb ] of his unexpected [ visceral ] arousal.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to take that long, I just–– ” 

The distance between the two of you is closed within a heartbeat, and his outstretched fingertips glide down the smooth line of your neck. You suck in a sharp breath, your body rigid under his hold, [ damn it, too fast ] and he drops his hands, easing you into the suddenness of his movement with lazy kisses against your warm cheek and neck, grinning when you lean into him at last. 

[ Yes. Perfect. ]  

You want him to kiss you properly, and you do your best to chase his lips, your arms folding around his bowed neck as you tap a few impatient kisses against his lowered forehead. But he ignores your temptations, not ready to move away from the intoxicating fragrance of your freshly cleaned skin. That soothing smell of peppermint and fresh lavender is near ambrosial, and he greedily digs his nose against you as his muscular arms drape over your sides, and his broad hands pause against the small of your back.

His sharp exhales against your shower dampened neck make you shiver but he maneuvers you closer, rubbing his lower lip against the dip of your shoulder before lifting to catch his teeth on your pulse. He knows just what you like now; he thinks smugly, tracing the flat of his tongue over a line of gooseflesh that bursts over your slicked skin. 

In the last month he’s gained a steady mastery of your preferences when it came to his kisses. You preferred to start things slowly, to have him cup your face and stoke you up steadily, but once he eases down the intricate line of your neck, well, all that softness and coy sweetness would bleed into something else entirely.

You liked it rougher then; liked for these caresses to be charged with lightning fast pushes and pulls, your fingers alternating between the sides of his jaw or the coiled thickness of his hair as you swayed him closer, and that shift never failed to set his heart racing and often sent his tightly reigned control spiraling. But that’s not what he wants, not right now, so he’s careful to keep you at bay, distracting your breathless twists with a fresh set of nips and unhurried pecks against your throat.

He wants to lose himself in you; to blank out all the other worries. The differences don’t matter, not when he can hold you like this.

“Hey, Kiyoomi,” you gasp and only then does he stop his incessant assault, arms tensing as they clutch you to the broad slope of his chest, his dark waves falling heavily against your kiss glistened shoulder.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, his voice reverberating against your wet skin.

“What...what’s gotten into you?” you falter, distracted by the hum of his low tone and the soothing pass of his hands as they curve along your spine.

“Dunno, just felt like kissing you,” he lies impassively, lifting his head from you, obsidian eyes shielded by his mussed curls, the tops of his cheeks aglow.

You exhale a tight laugh at his serious, but utterly flushed expression. “Okay–so why did you stop?”

“Liked it that much, huh? I’m hungry,” he clarifies, a smirk curling his erubescent lips and you laugh, melting that jaunty grin into his usual straightlaced frown. “Tch,” he tries again, sliding his dark eyes away from your open bemusement, a pink blush staining the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that I...hmph, come on, don’t act like you’re not hungry, too...”

You were an excellent cook. Not that he’d fully meant his droll quip at the gym; after all, why offer to do something if you’re not good at it? But he’s glad he agreed to a home cooked meal. 

Besides, there is something soothing about the whole thing.It was nice, watching you deftly maneuver around your tiny kitchen, turning on burners, setting timers, and arranging the ingredients in simple bowls and plates; it reminded him of the coffee shop. And he’s always liked watching you work. Your movements were always smooth [ elegant ]. You kept your hands close and your elbows in, so confident in the motions of your ingrained routines and the tidiness of your space, that you could easily carry on a conversation with him, your eyes careful to meet his over the top of the espresso machine.

But this is better than watching you in the coffee shop. There’s no divider now. There’s just you and him. It’s comforting and he wants to experience it again and again.  

You let him set the plates out, chop the vegetables, prep the soba, and asked him to pick out some beer from your fridge, saying you trusted his choice and chuckling good-naturedly when he padded back to your side, four cans sticking icily to his palms as he asked a few [ five or six ] clarifying questions about the brews.He enjoys your cheerful teasing; he thinks as the two of you sit at the low chabudai; it makes him feel like he fits in, like he can be part of this side of you. You tuck your legs to one side as you sit, your shoulder gently bumping against his as you ease into a comfortable position on the tatami mats and Kiyoomi leans closer, indulging himself in the press long after you’ve picked up your chopsticks–a shared meal of of cabbage and onion okonomiyaki and salmon stir fry resting between the two of you. 

It’s a simple thing, all of this touch, but Kiyoomi can’t get enough of it. Every time your arm brushes against his, or you ask him to pass you something from his side of the table, he wants to prolong the contact, to keep his fingers beside yours, or feel the warmth of your thigh and the jut of your hip as he shifts nearer.

He didn’t think he enjoyed being touched. 

He always did his utmost to avoid it, shunning the clapped backs and constant high fives that always seemed to be prepackaged and expected in the contact heavy sport of volleyball. Not because he didn’t like his teammates [ sure, sometimes– eh, most of the time ] they were too much, but he genuinely liked playing with them. But he didn’t enjoy the balmy heat of skin on skin contact, or the worry of shared germs. Touching meant weakness. It allowed things to spread from person to person; it created variables, and more variables always meant things could slip out of his control. No, Kiyoomi valued the predictable, the known, the cleanliness and routine, and touch threw most of that out of the equation. 

He doesn’t like touch. 

Yet he’s craving yours.  

It’s another thing that isn’t like him, he contemplates, passing his empty bowl to you, already missing that pleasing closeness you’d shared with him as you walk back into your kitchen and that stark absence makes him stand. It’s an urge, a compulsion, and it’s not something he wants to question so he listens to his instincts, feet planted firmly beneath him as he follows you, his hands lifted, reaching for you. When he tugs you against his chest, his dark head dropping beside yours, jet curls fanning beside your cheek and along your neck, he feels the ache within him settle and he lets himself wallow in the familiarity of crisp peppermint that sits against your skin. [ There. He can worry about the rest later, right now this is all he wants. ] 

“I should go,” he whispers, the tip of his nose cool against you. He locks his forearms around your waist and sighs when you rest your temple against his. 

He [ doesn’t want to ] should go. 

“Yeah,” you echo, cupping your fingers over his crossed arms and stroking them over his goose-fleshed skin. “I work in the morning. So I need to be up early.”

His steady breaths match yours and he pulls you closer, humming contentedly as the curve of your back falls into the hollow of his chest. “I’ll go,” Kiyoomi stalls, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the slope of your neck. He really should. There are only a few more trains tonight, but he can’t let go.

So he lingers, his heavy body leaning against yours, full lips dragging along your pulse as his arms loop tightly around you. You twist your head and he lets you return his caresses, groaning against the sweet pressure of your lips. You’re gentle with him, your kisses filled with restrained desire, and the gossamer touch makes him reach for more. When you pull away, your eyes shining in the gleam of your kitchen lights, he brings you back, his broad palms turning you to him as his chapped fingers tilt your chin, his arms cupping you so close he can feel the thud of your heart against his.

He [ doesn’t want to ] should go.

notes: @kugutsuu​ made me these lovely lines. aren’t they pretty! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧     

#sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #reader insert #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #hq!! #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #multichapter #slow burn #eventual smut

[thetravelerwrites]

Urgan (Orc)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385

A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard​​! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist  

Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.

You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.

College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.

Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…

“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.

“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.

“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”

“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.

“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.

“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.

“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.

“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.

“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”

“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”

You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.

“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.

“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”

“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”

“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.

“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.

“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”

“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”

“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”

Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.

“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”

“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”

Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.

“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.

“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”

“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”

“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”

“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”

Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.

“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.

“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”

You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”

“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”

You laughed and waved him off, heading out.

“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”

No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.

“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.

“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.

“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”

“Is he cold to the touch?”

“Yes.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Slowly, but yes.”

“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”

You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.

“It’s clear,” You said.

“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”

“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.

“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.

“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.

“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”

“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”

“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.

“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”

“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”

“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”

“She wants to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months, she said.”

“How does she know it’s yours?”

“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”

You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”

Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”

“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”

“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”

“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.

She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”

“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”

“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”

You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.

“Are you and Kelly staying together?”

“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”

“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”

He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”

“You’re not going to tell your mom?”

“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.

Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.

During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.

Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.

You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.

Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.

Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.

Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.

Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.

“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.

“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”

“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”

The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.

“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”

You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”

“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”

“Yeah, but they’re family.”

“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.

You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.

“Yeah,” He said, grinning.

“How’s Kelly?”

“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”

You snorted. “I bet.”

He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.

You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.

Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…

Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.

You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.

Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.

Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.

However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.

“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”

“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”

You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.

“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.

You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.

“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.

“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”

“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.

“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”

“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.

This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.

“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”

“I…” You hesitated.

“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.

There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.

“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”

Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.

Roga was still sleeping.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Boyfriend #Orc #MLM #Male Reader #Reader Insert #Children #Babies #Pregnancy

[shadow--writer]

bro do you think i could get like,, a coffee shop (or bookshop) au headcanons for the main six? if you're comfortable with that ☺️✨

Ah coffee shop/bookstore aus are my favourite I love them! I hope you don’t mind me going wild on my favs (Julian and Muriel) lol

Requests are still open! And asks about my new MC! Send em in!! (also fic requests are open lmao)

Main six x MC coffee shop/bookstore modern au

~~~~

Julian

You work at your local bookstore and this very hot doctor comes in almost every week 

You don’t know why, but you’re curious as to why

He always comes during your shift, asking for new books, books on medical treatment, old history, history on leeches, types of leeches, birds and birdcare

The first time he came in when you locked eyes he fell over

You and your coworkers started a little bet to see what he’s coming in for next 

But he doesn’t come in the next week

Or after that

You hate to admit it but you’re starting to miss him. He never failed to make you laugh with his strange requests

The past few times he came in he was always a bit red

But his face lit up whenever he saw you

You started crushing on him and now that he hasn’t come back for a while you’re...a bit sad

Next time he comes in is when you’re closing up

He’s out of breath, wheezing on his knees

Amused you let him catch his breath

“MC...I’m sorry I haven’t come in a while! School and work got hectic and I didn’t have time-”

Shushing him gently you bring him inside, pulling out your secret stash of tea you keep in the back

Asking him what’s wrong makes him go bright red

Confused, you sit and wait

“Would you believe me if I said I fell in love with this cute bookworm who works in one of my favourite store?”

You’re a little hurt but happy for the person he loves. He notices the hurt and laughs

“It’s you sweetheart. I’ve seemed to have fallen for you.”

I’m sorry, but after he confesses he would totally steal you just to make out with you behind the science textbook section (....I might write this wait)

Asra

Asra works at this sweet little tea shop that you like to visit every so often after work/school

He’s the cutest barista and you always smile when he’s there

Slowly you’ve warmed up to one another, him bringing you your favourite tea with a little note

Don’t hit on the baristas, but he might make an exception just for you

He adds some stuff to your tea to make it special and he always gets excited when he sees you come in

When you stay late he breaks out the coffee to help you stay up studying/working

He’ll spend time after work just to talk to you

He smells good like cinnamon and tea leaves

If you fall asleep he’ll let you sleep a bit while he closes up, and then wakes you before he leaves

He really enjoys your company, and you always brighten his day when you come in 

Days you don’t come in seem to drag on and he’s a little lonely 

Oh no

oh no

he has a crush on you now

But you bet your sweet arse you developed some weird outta nowhere feelings for him too

It’s why you avoided the tea shop, you didn’t want to make things weird

He sees you passing by and runs after you just to tell you

He really does miss you 

His confession is all a jumble. “MCILOVEYOUSOMUCHPLEASECOMEBACK!”

He’s very cute and when you go back he’ll make you a latte with snake art

Nadia

Nadia works at a cute little bookstore with a small cafe off to the side

It’s not very popular, just tucked away but it has a very nice atmosphere

They make the best pastries and have the best espressos

The first time you came in Nadia was there and willing to help 

She misheard you and sent you to the wrong section but she was too nice so you felt bad

Later on you tell her about the incident 

She is so embarrassed but it’s sweet

She finds your compassion so very sweet 

Some days you’ll come in just to study for school or read a book over coffee

She likes talking with you (distracting you from your schoolwork and her from her actual job. The manager doesn’t mind)

She handles everything with such grace it’s hard not to fall deeply in love with her

Sometimes you’ll come in just to talk to her 

It’s about when she starts to fall for you too, making your guyses interactions a bit awkward but still very sweet

She confesses by kissing you behind the bookshelves, she tastes like bittersweet chocolate and coffee 

When she pulls away you are bright red, making her giggle. 

“Consider it a thank you, MC. You’ve made my days so much brighter just with your smile.”

Oh my gods is she hot 

You aren’t gonna survive this 

Kiss her back 

“I...I hate to admit this, but I think I love you.”

Muriel

You work for a fun little animal themed bookstore 

Kids love it 

But one day this huge I mean tall and broad man walks in, hunched over, asking for a book on how to take care of chickens

Well that’s new you’ve never had a request like that from someone who looks...well, like Muriel does

But as always, you put on a smile and sweetly show him the way to chicken care

He’s so nervous oh poor baby 

He’ll grab your sleeve as you go back to the counter, his hair falling into his eyes but you can see how red his cheeks are

“Can...can I have some help finding a specific book? I...don’t know my way around.”

Of course you help how could you not

Soon after that he becomes a regular, and you learn he is in school to be a Vet and he has a small house up in the mountains 

Where apparently he has been saving animals

The first time you learn about Inanna was when he came in asking for a book on dog breeds

When he couldn’t find her breed he asked for a book on wolves

and you are starting to worry

But it’s okay he knows what he’s doing

As shy as he is, he falls for you fast and hard. Soon coming in with very poor excuses 

But it’s okay because you get to see him more and more, falling for him yourself soon enough

When you show him to books on bird seed, you kiss his cheek making him sputter

After a moment, he kisses your forehead, whispering ‘I love you’

And that was the day you knew this man was gonna kill you with his voice

Portia

Portia is this super cute barista at this fun energetic coffee shop

You are a poor hardworking person who needs their coffee fix

But oh my god Portia thinks you are the cutest most beautiful thing to walk through those doors

Her coworkers tease her but they let her act on her immediate crush

Looking up to this bubbly redhead holding your coffee, you fall for her too 

And soon you come in every week, sometimes three times a week

To study and get coffee

No...no other reason....

Portia is thrilled to see you in the coffee shop so often 

Eventually she leaves her number on the side of your coffee cup 

OMG no other person has done this in this au bwahahaha they’re all dumbasses 

She’ll confess with a few hearts in your coffee and a wink 

After work you’ll wait for her before pulling her along and kissing her behind the building 

Ah, young love

She’ll giggle and after this you come in more often and when she finds out where you work she’ll come to visit you

“MC! You came again! Welcome!!!”

Bright smiles and laughter 

Your day always seems better when she’s around

Lucio

You work at an old coffee shop with a fun rustic vibe and this man comes in so often 

Like every 

single

day

to order the same exact thing

The same exact super sweet coffee with two cookies on the side. He’s an odd one isn’t he

He’ll start to flirt with you right away

“Hey gorgeous, you make this all for me?”

Of course you did

That’s your job

Eventually you start flirting back and that’s when things start picking up 

Lucio catches major hardcore feelings

You’re that cute barista and he caught feelings for you

Unfair

You catch feelings too 

Eventually

He’s very blunt and flirty and..okay sure you kinda like that in him 

One day he was so aggressively flirting that you grab his shirt collar and plant a hard kiss on his mouth

Then get back to work as if nothing happened

Leave your number and winking face by his coffee

Ooooooooh man are you gonna get it after work 

;)

#the arcana #the arcana headcanons #julian devorak #lucio morgasson #portia devorak #muriel #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian headcanons #nadia headcanons #asra headcanons #lucio headcanons #muriel headcanons #nadia headcanon #coffee shop au #main six x mc #arcana apprentice #headcanons #arcana modern au

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

oh good god im in tears. thank you thank you thank you so much for taking time to make video of signing for me. wow, i— im not sure what to say. im- you have no idea how much that extra little step means to me. you are a gift to the world. an absolute treasure. i had to think hard about what i would like to see. never really asked from someone, when it comes to stuff like this, before and im worried of asking too much.

our boys are walking through a crowded market place when geralt looks to make sure jaskier is still behind him but out witcher turns around and his bard is just... gone. maybe angst, hurt/comfort, with a soft ending? I love the "Character A and character C must tend to Character B no matter how much it hurts B. A & C must ignore the screaming, the begging, how painful it must be, etc.. because B's life is on the life." trope 😅 and i feel like jaskier being deaf would make it all the more harder. It's a situation I've been in myself before, too.

1) I am so glad that my short little video could make your day. If you ever want some signed encouragement/answers, I’d be happy to record myself! I’m proficient in ASL but not fluent.

2) Writing this is fun and the hurt/comfort element really butters my eggroll.

3) Most of the sounds Jaskier makes in this fic, including the screams, are based on my coworker, who is considered “big D deaf” (with his consent)

tw: blood mention, minor injury, symptoms of panic, spitting the venom out (doesn’t work in real life, but this is fanfic)

---

Geralt hated the sound of screaming. It was shrill and high and it almost always led to something shitty. Whether that shitty thing was a village maiden trying to frame him for her lover’s offense, a child in danger whose parents would find a way to blame him for the incident, or some absolute fool in need of an urgent rescuing, Geralt found that screams were the worst kind of portent. 

They were even worse when they came from his bard. 

Jaskier’s screams were inhuman, partly because Geralt knew he was terrified and partly because the bard had no reference for the sound of ‘normal’ screams. Geralt knew from his witchery experience that people had all kinds of cries. There were high pitched wails of terror and curated yelps of pain; fuck, there were even flirtatious shrieks that came with giggles and squeals tacked on. Jaskier had never learned those. He was working with instinct alone, and instinct had told him to yell his fucking lungs out. 

Jaskier’s high keens were heart-stopping. The sound couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than the bard’s bright tenor, but it was twisted and frightened, loud and long and high. It urged Geralt to run even faster, push himself even harder as he flew through the underbrush and between tree trunks to reach his friend in time. 

He hadn’t even heard the monster sneak up on them. He hadn’t seen the creature snatch Jaskier away into the woods; he’d only heard Jaskier’s panicked noises and followed them as quickly as possible. 

When he skidded into view of Jaskier and his captor at last, his heart plummeted into his boots. The bard was laying limp, his eyes closed, his chest barely rising and falling with shallow breaths. The Forktail that held him to the ground beneath one massive claw was missing a wing. Apparently it had adapted by hunting what it could find on the ground; this would be a fast fight.

Without missing a beat, Geralt swirled forward in a blur of movement. A few dodges and well-placed slashes later and the monster fell to the ground. Geralt, covered in the Forktail’s sticky blood but otherwise unharmed, collapsed beside his companion and shook Jaskier’s shoulders.

There was no use screaming for him to wake up, Jaskier couldn’t hear him, but Geralt did it anyway. “Come on, Jaskier! Wake up for me, please! Open those pretty blue eyes of yours and fucking look at me, goddamnit!”

Nothing.

The witcher registered the red mark near the bard’s collarbone and tipped into a full-blown panic: it had stung him. He lowered his lips to the over-hot skin and sucked hard, the bile-adjacent flavor of the Forktail’s venom burning beneath the coppery tang of Jaskier’s blood. He spat it out into the grass and leaned down again, pulling the danger out of the bard’s body one breath at a time.

When he couldn’t taste the venom anymore, Geralt wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gathered Jaskier into his lap. He tucked the bard’s sweat-damp face against the cool skin of his throat and murmured anxiously, “Fuck, Jask, please. Wake up for me, yeah? Don’t die on me yet. You can’t. You’re too... you have too much music to write, still. You can’t die.”

He wasn’t sure what he would do if those blue eyes never opened again. 

But they did. By all of Melitele’s finery, they did. 

Geralt clung tightly to his exhausted companion, pressing their foreheads together tenderly as the younger man’s eyes blinked slowly open. The witcher’s calloused hands formed the signs before he could stop them, eager to reveal the secret that had weighed on him for months. Maybe years. I love you. I love you so much.

Really? Jaskier gaped. He stayed stock-still, his weight shifting like a scared rabbit’s in Geralt’s lap. His usually steady musician’s hands shook as he asked again, Really?

Geralt nodded as tears sprang, impossible and unbidden, to the corners of his golden eyes. Always, Jaskier, always. I will protect you. I love you. I promise.

Not lying?

Never lying. Not to you.

Good.

The witcher pulled him somehow closer and pressed a shower of kisses to the bard’s smiling face. Jaskier giggled and wiped a bit of blood away from the corner of Geralt’s eyebrow. He let the witcher paw at him and check him over for any further harm, his hands comfortably situated in his lap where he signed to no one in particular: Fucking finally.

#deaf jaskier #h/c #hurt/comfort #blood mention #blood tw #injury mention #minor inury #venom removal #like twilight but better #geraskier #geraskier fluff #getting together #caring geralt #injured jaskier #hurt jaskier #geralt has feelings #geralt #jaskier #fluff #bouncey's endless getting together fics #deaf!jaskier #shout out to josh #bounceacoinoffyouranons #deaf anon

[ozzy-bozzy]

Afternoon at the Skatepark

Reki x Reader x Langa

desc. You and the boys head to the skatepark to hang out after work

genre. Fun friendly fluff :D

warnings. nopee

word count. 1.6k

a/n: heyyy heh... back w another fic :3 i TOLD yall I would jump on Sk8 and write fics for it !! but alas, per tradition, I wrote this while sleep deprived and constantly doubting my writing so enjoy. if the ending or literally anything sounds weird blame it on me getting no sleep ever but also constantly being asleep

You listened to the occasional passing car, the sound of your own breathing, and the tapping of your foot louder. The quiet music playing in the shop began to annoy you as it started looping for about the third time during today’s shift. You had just finished wiping down the front counter, slowly rolling a tech deck back and forth with your fingers. You leaned your head on your other hand and sighed, looking up at the clock for the umpteenth time. Soon your shift would be over, and you could go home and relax. By the second you were starting to regret covering for your coworker’s shift.

You worked in a rather popular skate shop in town. You loved the aesthetic of the shop; posters, skateboards, and printed shirts lined the walls. You remember walking in on the first day and immediately falling in love. The owner was so happy to see how excited you were for work. 

Smiling back at the memory, you did a little ollie on the desk, accidentally sending it flying when the front door swung open, fluffy bright auburn and baby blue hair immediately catching your eye. Their conversation immediately halted when Reki turned and made eye contact with you. You both paused, staring at each other, before he ran across the shop floor and almost jumped up on the counter, with the brightest eyes,

“I didn’t know you were working today!” he cried out at you,

“Ah! Yeah… I’m covering a coworker’s shift, she couldn’t make it…” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck when Langa stepped up,

“You look...really bored…” You just blinked up at him, slowly becoming embarrassingly flushed.

“Is your shift almost over?” Reki had sloped down against the counter, his fingers now playing with the tech deck. You nodded at his question.

“Yeah, I’ve been bored for hours and I can’t wait to leave” You sighed, and Reki jumped back up

“Hey! If your shift is just about over, why don’t you come with us to hang out afterward?”

“I don't…”

“It’ll be fun! Right, Langa?”

“...yeah, and besides… you could probably use it” He gave you a small smile that you couldn’t help but return.  Reki was beating his fingers against the counter, waiting for your answer,

“Okay, okay sure yeah why not. You guys can hang out for about fifteen more minutes and then I can go grab my stuff from the back.” Reki started to cheer. 

Reki pushed away from the counter and immediately went over to look at the boards. Langa watched the skateboard toy roll across the counter when Reki let go of it, and then turned to look around the store. He was looking around at all the colorful posters, graphic hoodies, and signed shirts from famous bands or skaters. He could definitely see why Reki kept going on and on about bringing him here. 

“You know, Langa, you can put your bag down behind the counter so you don’t have to carry it around” You offered your hand out to him, and his eyes were stuck staring at your form. You cocked your head to the side when he didn’t answer, and he seemingly snapped out of it, his pale cheeks flushing,

“Sorry... And thank you” He handed you his shoulder bag and while you bent over to put it away, he fiddled with his fingers,

“Hey, I’m actually really excited to see you skate with us, I hope you can teach me something new or give me some tips” You jolted back up and Reki burst into a fit of laughter before coming back to lean on Langa’s shoulder,

“Ohoho! I almost forgot to mention!” You immediately tried to signal him to shut the hell up, but Reki being the little troublemaker he is, chose to ignore you,

“Our dear friend here doesn’t know how to skate!” You sighed. Yeah, you didn’t know how to skate. You worked in a skate shop and really loved your job, but you didn’t know how to skate. Your friends and coworkers always liked to tease you for it, and you always meant to learn, but never actually did. 

You shrunk in on yourself, muddled in your embarrassment when Langa let out a small laugh,

“Yeah yeah, I get it, the girl who works in a skate shop doesn’t know how to stake. Big deal. You don't have to rub it in—”

“No no, that’s not why I’m laughing. I don't know how to skate either. Reki is teaching me”

“Wait, really?” he nods. “I never could have guessed!”

You two smiled at each other and Reki laughed again, before going back to admire the trucks on a board he had picked up off the shelf. 

Once your shift ended, you and the boys headed out of the shop. You were headed to the local skatepark, but in the middle of explaining the plans, Reki and Langa’s stomach grumbled, so first, you were off to get some lunch. 

After debating on what to get for lunch, and then debating what to order after Reki’s teasing, you guys had ended up at the skatepark. Reki did a quick stretch and quickly jumped on his board, climbing the quarter pipe effortlessly. You watched in awe, never able to understand how he could skate so easily. Langa pulled out his board and passed you, setting his things down before walking closer to the ramp. You followed him, and Reki offered you his hand. You reached for him, and he pulled you up, sitting pressed to his side while he hooked his board on the rim using the back wheels. Kicking his feet, he ponders to himself while Langa waits for him to speak up.

“Oh, oh! I know! How about you keep working on that practice routine I showed you yesterday, it’ll definitely help in your next beef!” Langa seemed to think it over a bit, before nodding and skating off to find more space.

“Routine…?” You ask,

“Mhmm! I’m trying to get him to learn more tricks and tactics so he can win more beefs at ‘S’. He can’t just keep taping his feet to the board if he means to keep skating.”

“Ohh, well he seems to be doing just fine!”

“He’s improved really fast, he doesn’t fall as much anymore—” Right when he said that, Langa let out a yelp and fell flat on his back, his board flying out from under him, “That being said, he still falls occasionally. Hey, Langa! Why don’t you come take a break and I’ll skate around for a bit?” Langa nodded and skated over to the quarter pipe while Reki stood, gliding down and heading towards the grind rails to practice his own tricks. 

Langa took his spot next to you, leaning back and closing his eyes, taking in the nice weather. You turned to him and smiled,

“You’re getting really good! I don't know how you manage to ride it so easily even though you’re still learning”

Langa blinked at you silently, and sheepishly rubbed his neck,

“Thanks… You know I’m sure if you gave it a try you would be pretty good yourself.”

“Ahh! I appreciate the thought! But, I’ve already..kinda..attempted...In the past, and it just didn’t seem to work out in the past. I’m much more content providing you and Reki and people like you two with gear and good customer service..” Reki skated his way over.

“Nope! You’re trying again.”

“Wait wh— “

“Come on! Slide down!”

Langa gave you a gentle push, before sliding down the ramp himself and Reki pulled

you over by the hands to his board. You hesitantly put one foot on the board but you could feel your legs start to shake when you try to lift off the ground. Langa came up next to you and offered you his hand. Gripping it, you managed to stand on the board. He slowly tried to let your hands go so you could balance on your own, but once you were totally on your own you swung your arms around until finding balance. Actually standing on the board felt… weirdly nice. It wasn’t as scary as you first thought, especially after taking the initiative to start. You heard Reki call your name, snapping his fingers. He stood a good few feet in front of you, his arms outstretched, waiting to catch you,

“Well? Come on! Kick off the ground and push yourself over here”

“Reki I can’t—”

“Sure you can!” Like it didn’t even need to be said, Langa put his hand on the small of your back and slowly pushed you to give you a head start. That’s when you started losing your balance. You glided forward towards Reki on the board, and not knowing how to stop, you started shifting your weight and you heard Langa start to say something and turned to look at him when the board flew out from under your feet and you fell back into Reki’s arms. His arms hooked under yours, holding your top half up against him. Langa starts to panic, asking if you’re okay or hurt. For someone who gets hurt from learning to skate on the regular, he sure does worry when someone else gets hurt. 

Your gaze just shifts between the two, one more worried than the other, but still worried. Your face cracks into a grin and you start laughing, pushing yourself up to stand properly in Reki’s hold. You grasp his hands in yours, and bring them up,

“Please teach me to skate!!”

The two boys stopped, their faces changing from concerned to confused, before lighting up. You had never seen them smile brighter.

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 #sk8 reki #sk8 langa #skating #skating anime #reki x reader #langa x reader #reki x reader x langa #reki x langa #skateboarding #sk8 the infinity fic #sk8 the infinity fanfiction #anime fic #haha like no pee #im so funny #cries

[sukiglycerin]

13 minutes || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero (therefore aged up)!katsuki bakugou x fem manager!reader

* genre: pro-hero!au, smut, this is the longest warning section i’ve ever written, mainly pwp, fluff at the end :>

* words: 2,266 of all this fiLTH

* warnings: AGED UP KATSUKI, ugh tumblr deleted my super long tags so now i must redo them, this is very long & filthy, whew let's go, dom!katsuki, sub!reader, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, office sex, reader is bent over the desk ofc, master/sir kink, a little pet play (he calls reader pet/kitten), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, breast/nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm denial (how contradicting), cunnilingus (f receiving), cum eating (both ends), talks of safeword/colour system but no actual usage, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!!), creampie, reader is kinda masochistic, pussy slapping, crying sex (no angst here tho), hair-pulling (m receiving if it matters), implied subspace, aftercare !! the best part !!

* a/n: so tumblr messed up sO much while i tried to post this, so i hope you like this! ty @toishi for sticking with me and all of my ramblings while writing this! (and ofc @dylanxmin for her lovely support!!) this is a VERY spicy thing, and almost had actual plot before i cut it out. if you like this, i may do a fluffier pt 2!! enjoy!

being a pro-hero's manager has its perks. the pay's good, the coworkers are pleasant, and travelling is pretty fun. to you, the best part is that you get to see your boyfriend of three years every day.

you've been dating pro-hero ground zero secretly, and you happen to be his manager. honestly, the latter came first in chronological order, but that doesn't matter anyway.

you first encountered ground zero (or as he was called back then, katsuki bakugou) during your time in the business course at ua. he bumped into you quite ungracefully, cursed at you, pushed past you, then let a startled but apologetic kirishima to apologize. it was fate, in kirishima's words. 

such fate led you to manage ground zero five years ago, after slowly climbing your way up from managing smaller heroes to finally reaching the popular ones. bakugou had been the only popular hero with a manager opening; you learned why soon after being hired.

the spiky haired hero had a short fuse and a tendency to cuss. he was picky, indecent, and often reckless with his public image; the calmest you'd ever seen him was when he blew up villains and screaming "die."

however, things change - things change a lot. five years later, you're here: katsuki mumbling sweet things into the crook of your neck as his hands tease the waistband of your pencil skirt.

"katsuki, we can't- you have a meeting in fift- hng-!"

his lips find yours quickly, effectively quieting you down. you're sitting on katsuki's desk - a polished cherry wood thing that took too many weeks to find - as he towers above you, pinning you to your spot.

katsuki pauses, and pulls back, licking his lips. "sounds like a you problem."

"we really can't, this meeting is really important-" bakugou's fingers nimbly find their way under your skirt, deadly close to your panties. he really isn’t paying attention to you.

"and i'm the star of the show, the number one pro-hero-" if he hears you mutter 'that's midoriya,' he ignores you and continues, "-aren't i the most important one here?" his fingers rub your clothed clit, smirking at your audible gasp.

"k-katsuki, no-" you know he can feel the wet patch growing on your panties; from the way his determined eyes lock on yours, you know he won't be finished until you are too.

"how long do we have now, love?”

"thirteen minutes, but-"

"you're going to cum for me three times in the thirteen minutes we have."

it's not a question; it's a fact. you are going to cum three times in the next fifteen minutes.

“once on my fingers,” he puts a finger up, “once on my tongue,” another finger, “and once on my cock. the only thing you have to worry your pretty head about-“ he leans in close to your ear, voice dropping a couple octaves, “-is keeping quiet enough.”

his fingers push your panties to the side with ease and play teasingly with your wet folds. he circles your clit with his middle finger slowly, dragging out each languid movement with a smirk on his face. you flush at the lewd, wet noises he elicits from your pussy. you know that his fingers are coated in your arousal.

you look down in embarrassment, gripping the edge of the desk, and stare at the cotton material of your pencil skirt.

"slut." the word is spat from katsuki's mouth. his hand holds your chin; his touch barely ghosts your skin, but the command still exudes dominance. he tips his hand up, so you're looking into his intense eyes.

"look at me, slut." the word is emphasized by the plunging of three fingers in your wet core. you whine, unprepared by the sudden intrusion. your legs move uncomfortably against the fabric of your skirt, which restricts you from spreading open your legs wider. you want to clamp down on katsuki's hand, but you know that that won't end well.

"patience, kitten." either by intuition or his own frustration, he speaks up gruffly. "all in due time." his thumb starts to knead your aching bud as he thrusts in and out, knuckle deep in your pussy. glancing at the clock, he grows impatient, quickly attempting to unbutton your blouse before ripping off the rest entirely. you'd normally protest - you liked that blouse - but you find yourself falling short of words at the pressure on your pussy. katsuki goes at a more rigorous pace, thrusting fast and deep while his free hand snakes itself under your bra to play with your nipple. the added stimulation has you keening to his touch, suddenly aware of his every touch. he pulls your bra cup down, freeing your breast and bending down to to encapsulate the hardened bud in his mouth. his tongue circles your areola and flicks your nipple; meanwhile, his pace on your pussy hasn't relented. 

soon, you feel the telltale feelings of pleasure bubbling through your body.  you tense against him, gasping out his name and clawing at his back. your knees buckle as your climax washes over you, making your body go limp in his hand. bakugou lets go of your nipple with a popping noise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his other hand pulls out, and he outstretches three cum-soaked fingers to you, an unspoken code for "suck." you open your mouth obediently, sucking your salty juices off his slim digits. 

"fuck," he cusses, eyes blown out wide in lust. "so fuckin' obedient for me, hm? such a fuckin' whore for your master."

you let go of the fingers in your mouth and nod. 

his non-wet fingers grip the bottom of your skirt. "off. now." 

"yes, master." you feel his eyes pierce you, watching you unzip your skirt and panties and let them pool around your legs. he holds you steady as you step out of the garments and toss them to the side. 

"sit up." he taps the desk lightly.

"it'll get w-w-" 

"did i stutter?"

"n-no, master."

he hums while you acquaint your bottom with the cold, hard wood of his desk.

"colour system, love?" his voice gets soft and he breaks the hard persona. his eyes are gentle, searching yours for any speck nervousness or hesitancy.

"green for 'i'm good, keep going,' yellow for 'slow down,' and red for 'stop.'"

"and if you can't speak?"

"three taps for red, two for yellow."

"what's your colour right now?"

"green, master."

his face hardens at the title. "always a good pet for me, aren't you?"

you nod. "yessir."

he spares another glance at the clock on the wall. "you're going to be a fucking good slut for master in the next 7 minutes, understand?"

"y-yessir."

"what was that, pet?"

"yessir."

"better be. spread." his fingers gesture to your legs.

he kneels before you, your drenched core spread out and on display for him at eye-level.

"so wet," he marvels, making your face heat up. like this, you're completely exposed to him; your breasts free from your bra, nipples hard against the cool air, and your pussy glistening under the light of his office.

he licks a long stripe up your folds, testing the waters. by now, the original intensity of your previous orgasm had worn off; despite this, when his tongue met your clit, you found yourself reaching for his hair, gripping it tightly. he groans into your pussy, poking his appendage through your folds and administrating kitten licks up and down your inner lips to slurp up whatever juices were left. the teasing doesn't last for long, however. he starts to suck harshly on your clit, making you buck into his face in overstimulation and surprise. you cry out at his unceasing ministrations, tugging on his hair and your toes curling. the overstimulation is too much; pain mixed with white hot pleasure blinds you. the lips closed against your clit go hard; you're not even sure how katsuki can breathe going at such a pace. the pain starts to blend into pure pleasure. you throw your arm over your mouth in attempt to stifle your noises, eyes shut tight. you feel tears line your eyes as you cum again, katsuki's tongue pressed flat against your pussy. the pleasure is five times more intense now; you cry out, sure anyone standing outside heard, and clutch katsuki's hair as you recover from your orgasm. your pussy convulses violently, and you pant in a similar manner.

"k-katsuki- master- i-" you breathe hard.

"one more for me, okay?" he rasps into your ear. "i know you can take it, kitten. so good for me..." his chin and lips shine with your essence.

you nod, spreading your sore legs further apart.

"colour?" he checks, hands starting to reach for his belt.

"green."

he nods and unbuckles, pulling his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock. katsuki leans in, hot breath fanning against you as he peppers kisses on your clavicle.

"you're gonna be a good cocksleeve for master, yeah? gonna be all fuckin' tight and wet for me?"

you whimper a shaky "yes," the head of his cock nudging your folds.

he eases his full length into you, the stretch always being something you always need to get used to. katsuki's not particularly girthy, but for what he lacks in girth he makes up in sheer length. he pushes in gently; it's clear on his face he wants nothing more than to ravage you, but he understands your needs.

"f-fuck," you gasps as he bottoms out. 

"ring ring ring," the tone of katsuki's phone rings through the room.

you lean over the desk, reading the caller id.

"it's horikoshi corp?" you say to katsuki.

"pick it up." there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but there's no time to dwell on it before you pick up the call.

"is this the office of ground zero?" a male voice asks through the line.

"yessir-" katsuki starts moving inside you, to which you bite your lip. "h-how can i help you?"

"this is regarding the meeting scheduled for today?"

"y-yes?" you gasp, flinging a hand over your mouth as bakugou starts thrusting into your core roughly.

"i'm terribly sorry to say this, but it appears that our boss has come down with food poisoning from lunch."

"don't- don't worry about it-" your knuckles are white gripping the edge of the desk, and you're slightly bent over it.

katsuki continues to hammer into you, speed increasing quickly.

"could we reschedule to friday, at 1:30pm?"

your mind skims through katsuki's friday schedule. "u-um... y-yes-! that can be arranged..." you're not sure if he can hear the wet slapping noises coming from your end of the line - but the thought of him knowing your dirty deeds with katsuki made you even wetter.

"alright, thank you!" the man sounds relieved. "goodbye."

"bye!" you half slam the phone down on the receiver, chest heaving.

"it's your lucky day, huh, kitten?" katsuki purrs smoothly. 

you nod, pressing yourself onto his desk so you're bent over it for him.

"such a fucking slut," you can hear the pride in his voice. "you like that, yeah? i can feel you clenching all around me. you're my fuckin' cockslut, right?"

your head bobs rapidly up and down. "yes, master- i'm-" you feel the familiar heat start to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growls in your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

he presses you even harder into the desk, your breasts pushed up against the cold wood. 

"k-katsuki...!”

"my little pain slut, isn't that right?" 

"y-yes-! f-fuck, master-" 

he slaps your clit, making a loud, wet sound resound through the room.

it almost sends you over the edge. almost.

"don't- cum-" katsuki grunts in between thrusts.

you're so close it almost hurts. the pleasure overwhelms you; you shut your eyes tight to distract yourself, but you can only hear the sound of katsuki's heavy breaths and his cock slamming into you.

"katsuki- master- please, i can't-" tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. the pleasure is just too much, beating into you incessantly.

"you can, and you will," he orders, voice firm.

"k-ka- ka-" you blubber, tears dropping from your cheeks. you know you won't be able to hold it much longer; your pussy aches in need of release. "pl- pl, ka-"

"cum." it was the only word you needed to find yourself toppling off the edge, euphoria rippling over you violently.  tears stream down your cheeks, cum gushing from your heat. you're as limp as a doll in katsuki's arms, slumped against his desk. your pussy throbs, contracting violently - somewhere amidst your orgasm, katsuki had finished as well. your cheeks are wet, blouse thrown somewhere on the ground. your breathing is shaky as katsuki picks you up, stroking your hair delicately.

"hey, honey," he kisses your forehead softly.

you mumble incoherently, eyes drooping shut.

"you did so well for me... i didn't hurt you, did i?"

"no, 'suki.... 's good.... i liked it a lot..." you nuzzle into him, his body warmth comforting. katsuki smells of vanilla and caramel, a sweet combination that feels undeniably like home. 

you don't remember many of the next events well; everything blurs into a haze. you feel him gently thumbing your tears away, slipping your skirt and panties on and buttoning up one of his extra dress shirts on you.

the last thing you hear is a gentle "i love you," and before you know it, you're drifting asleep.

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki smut #katsuki x reader #fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #luna's writing #oneshot #bnha oneshots #mha x reader #boku no hero au #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #headcanon #bakugou headcanons #bakugou scenarios #bnha drabble #katsuki x y/n #bakugou/reader #mha smut #bakugou katsuki/reader