#and i was like 'can u pls help me and hold my hand because thats where i need u to warn me'
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all the people in my head love me and want me to succeed 💗💗💗
#its taken me so long to make all the voices kind to me. it goes both ways i needed to stop and listen and have a conversation#whenever i have someone tell me something mean or heavy i ask them what's actually up because they're not helping rn and i wanna understand#also reminded me when i told my anxiety i need it because im always scared at crosswalks @ cars and stuff#and i was like 'can u pls help me and hold my hand because thats where i need u to warn me'#refocus all my fears and find their strengths so they can help me in turn!#i love myself - and all the different parts of myself 💗#sometimes theyre just scared and trying to warn me so old things don't repeat - when thats not needed anymore.#but i appreciate them for caring for me and looking out for me - because they still remember how it felt and how deep the cuts were#and i cant blame parts of myself for remembering - but i can befriend them and show them something new
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demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends
characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai
AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry
TENGEN
- this isn’t just a little fling
-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf
-he wants to be your HUSBAND
- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP
- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband
- ur getting 3 wives too
- it’s a package deal
- overprotective!!
- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission
- my heart was bursting
- carries u around
- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor
- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are
- he’s bigger and taller
-he's big all over if ykyk
-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby
- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute
- he’s absolutely mocking you
-which brings me to…
- this man teases the HELL out of you
- but with love
- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives
- in his mind ur alrdy married
- and he is NOT letting you go
- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it
- 4 lifer fr
- id marry him
SANEMI
-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
-he’d tear it UP
-and i’d let him
- loves you so much
- doesn’t show it in public
- but in private?
- clingy as fUck
- he’s like ur shadow fr
- will follow u around all day
- hands on ur waist
- arm around ur shoulder
- holding ur hand
- he will not let go of u when ur alone
- in public he’s a lot less touchy
- but he will still stand near you
- jealous af
- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar
- you belong to him
- makes sure they know it
- makes sure you know it
-hickey MASTER
-no i will not elaborate
- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges
- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you
- but he does try
- he’s got a reputation to keep up!
-gotta act tough
-no weaknesses!!
- except for u
-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it
- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)
-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone
-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder
-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place
-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir
-claims ur super light no matter ur size
-hence the nickname "feather"
-i love him
GIYUU
-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up
-speaking of chokeholds... ;)
-put me in one pls sir
-anyways
-awkward as fuck
-but he tries for u
-terrible with physical affection
-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved
-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch
-and make sure he's not uncomfortable
-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you
-takes a very long time to say "i love you"
-but can u blame him??
-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(
-because of this he's veryyyy protective
-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is
-is hurt or killed
-100% will die for u without a second thought
-not really a nickname type of guy
-remember he's awkward as hell
-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name
-and even that is only when y'all are alone
-but still
-even if he doesn't always show it
-you are always on his mind
-he's on a mission and walking through a market?
-he's buying you a hairpin or som
-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?
-"i wonder if she'll like these"
-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET
-ugh soft for bf giyuu
RENGOKU
-sunshine boy!!!
- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend
-all smiles all the time
-follows u around like lost puppy
-shows off for u
-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao
-thats him
-"did you see what i just did?!"
-if u didnt...
-he's doing it again
-wants to impress you so bad
-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence
-service bf!!
-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?
-he's on it
-you need help styling ur hair?
-welcome to rengoku's hair salon
-will attempt to dress you in the morning
-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head
-zipping up ur pants
-and tying ur shoes
-brags about you to anyone and everyone
-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow
-compliments compliments compliments!!!
-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it
-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart
-constantly confessing his love
-also lowkey speaks poetry for u
-some shit like
-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"
-ugh he's the sweetest baby
MUICHIRO
-my airheaded angel baby
-i love him sm stop
-baby boy has a terrible memory
-that we alrdy knew
-but!
-he tries so hard for you
-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you
-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over
-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time
-can not and will not remember anniversaries
-unless they're written in that journal
-will pick u flowers
-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that
-but it's the thought that counts
-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts
-you wanna go on a date?
-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together
-maybe a picnic if ur lucky
-no nicknames from him
-he calls you by your name
-its all he can remember
-he's the cutest
OBANAI
-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public
-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you
-at least not to the other hashira
-might not be glued to your side
-but he's got eyes on u at all times
-and someone is talking about you?
-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth
-he's tuned in
-and they better not say anything negative either
-mans turns murderous
-they will wake up to a snake in their bed
-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life
-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around
-cause he's got everything
-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of
-protective but not pushy
-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself
-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you
-you're not drinking enough water?
-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all
-haven't had lunch yet?
-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.
-on a mission with him?
-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything
-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either
-he's got ur back
-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames
-nothing too crazy
-especially in public
-mostly uses ur first name
-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while
-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"
-acts like a hard ass
-but he's soft for u
#demon slayer#anime#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#giyuu x reader#obanai x reader#sanemi x reader#muichiro x reader#rengoku x reader#tengen x reader#tengen uzui#giyuu tomioka#obanai iguro#muichiro tokito#rengoku kyojuro
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could u write sfw/nsfw hcs of raiden with a size kink maybeee👀
I had to look up how tall Raiden is bc in the new game he just looks like a short king THIS BITCH IS 6'2??????????
Frothing at the mouth rn
Tw/cw: AFAB reader, size kink(obviously), overstimulation, dacryfilia if you squint, nsfw and sfw, mirror sex mmmmm, belly bulge
Not proofread go fuck yourself
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Sfw
Raiden is the type of guy to constantly put items on higher shelves so you can ask him for help.
He's also the type of guy to want to compare hand sizes whenever he can. He loves seeing how his rough, much bigger hands look in comparison to your small, softer hands.
God he'd love cooking with you. He'd adore standing behind you and and guiding your hands with his.
He's obsessed with the way he can pick you up and throw you around like you weigh nothing. To him, you don't.
He'd really enjoy getting matching couples pajama sets and then have you wear his set from time to time. Why? Because he likes seeing how big it is on you.
It's like that with all of his clothes, really. His shirts are like night gowns for you and he'd be lying if he said he didn't love seeing you in them.
You borrow his clothes so often that your wardrobe is practically his wardrobe. And he loves it.
Because of how he towers over you, he often just, touches you. Anywhere he can, really
He loves holding you by the waist and resting his head on your shoulder, though. Does his neck hurt like hell afterwards from bending down so much? Yeah. Is he gonna do it again? Absolutely.
Nsfw
He'd be SUCH a gentleman in bed, but he does lose control sometimes
I feel like he'd be very neutral on most sex positions. He doesn't have a preference, but he love the lotus
He'd love how your back is pressed against his chest while your thighs are on either side of his. Its the perfect position for him to feel every part of you.
The only downside, however, is he can't see your face. He loves seeing how your face contorts in pleasure as his thick cock drags it's way in and out of your pussy, but he can't in this position.
How does he solve this problem? Mirror sex. He isn't adamant on getting you to watch yourself while he's fucking you, he knows it must be embarrassing, but he's obsessed with watching you.
He can see everything thats happening, your face twisting in pleasure, the white ring forming at the bottom of his cock, but most importantly, the belly bulge.
Oh
My
God
The belly bulge.
Once it starts forming, he can't take his eyes off it. The thought of you being so small in comparison to him that his cock is making imprints in your tummy makes him lightheaded
This is where him losing control comes in. On rare occasions, usually when he comes back from training and missions, he'd be so worked up over the fact he couldnt see you, touch you, feel you.
You're doing you thing, getting into position, and he sees it. The belly bulge.
He goes beast mode dude.
He's instantly flipping you on your back and fucking you in missionary. I think he'd be a bit rough, mainly coming from his harsh pace, but nothing leaves his mouth except pleasurable moans and praise
His pace gets so fast and him constantly pressing down on said belly bulge makes you cum. Don't worry, he's right behind you, but he doesn't stop after one round
How can he when you look so good writhing underneath him?
You get overstimulated after a while because of how many times you already came. Raiden would feel bad, but he knows you want this, you'd use your safe word if you didn't.
So he continues. He usually only stops when your body goes limp and falls asleep from exhaustion. Hed kiss away all your tears that formed both during and after each session followed by him cleaning and dressing you.
Dressing you in what? One of his shirts. Nothing else. He likes it that way.
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A/n: I'm getting so many good requests UGH if you guys do request anything pls remember it's taken me a bit to get to it 🙏���
#mk1#mortal kombat#mortal kombat smut#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x reader smut#mk smut#raiden smut#raiden x reader#mk raiden#raiden mortal kombat#raiden x reader smut#mortal kombat raiden#if the layout of the ask is weird pls dont ask why i have no idea what happened
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bungou stray dogs (random) nsfw hcs
bc i finished season 4 and DAMN that shit was good it fired me up, so here’s some like little thoughts i had on these characters, PLS LMK IF U WANT MORE (i did nawt proof read this forgive me)
dazai
mannn lemme tell you. he LOVES being praised. especially when he’s eating you out, the combination of you telling him how good he’s doing with the tight grip you have in his hair? this man could die right then and there.
chuuya
let’s be real, this man loves degrading you LIKE CMON?! if we took it a step further he likes to see you cry too, but that’s another topic for another day.. ANYWAYS he loves seeing how you squirm and react to his words, he swears he means them with love but sometimes he can be a lil mean sometimes — “ you’re such a greedy plaything— all that pretty little brain knows how to do is bounce on my dick, huh?” his hands resting behind his head, showing no intent of helping at all— “fine then, do what you do best slut”
fukuzawa
absolute menace at pussy eating man. this man will have you BEGGING for him to stop because he wants to make sure you have your fill and then some. his favorite position is when he has you sat on his face with his arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place with no where to go. he honestly doesn’t mean to make you cry (bc he lowkey hates seeing you cry) but he always gets too carried away w/o realizing it:(
michizo (my fav omg)
this boy always acts tough n shit but little does the port mafia know he is a SIMPPP for you. every delicate little touch you give him, every simple kiss on his jaw, his neck, his chest he’s completely putty in your hands. and not mention this poor boy is a whiny MESSSS when you give him head , saying shit like — “y-you feel so good” (his hand always squeezing the thing closest to him because he doesn’t wanna ruin your rhythm) “please make me cum” AND ITS SO CUTE EVERYTIME
fyodor
sadist. thats it that’s the message
#bungou stray dogs#bsd smut#dazai smut#chuuya smut#tachihara michizou#fukuzawa smut#fukuzawa yukichi#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader#fyodor smut
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kickoff! reader who is stalking gojos page and accidentally likes one of his oldest posts. she panics and turns off her phone, without unliking it.
kickoff!gojo who is re reading your guys instagram messages and you text him while he’s doing this. he scrambles to come up with a reason as to why he read your message instantly
kickoff! reader who tries to watch soccer games to understand what’s happening. she probably yells offsides at everything. gojo can only smile at her and offer to help her out
kickoff! gojo who takes a picture of your silhouette in front of those statues you meet up at during the sunset (without your knowledge) and makes it his lock screen. you ask him about it but he just pretends that it’s a soccer goal and the sunset behind it.
kickoff! reader who finds herself thinking of satoru way too much. will see basically anything and be reminded of him. “oh a pair of sunglasses? gojo would like those” “hm, they started selling a strawberry tea? gojo would drink that”
kickoff! gojo who loves the sims. unironically makes a sim version of him and reader. tbh he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just starts thinking about reader and starts adding her features. thinks it’s funny to make them have “fun time”
kickoff! reader who is looking through the game pictures she takes and finds herself staring at gojo. doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until mina walks in on her. think peter parker and gwen stacy
kickoff!gojo who has a full “project m’bappe” for your future kids. starts the kids off with a soccer plush and it leads to them being absolute powerhouses in toddler leagues
kickoff! reader who used to play soccer as a kid. threw a tantrum in the middle of a game because she decided she hated it. only started to like it again because of gojo
kickoff! gojo who keeps a printed out picture of the two of you in his wallet. Suguru took it at the frat party when gojo kissed you. around you is blurry and flashing lights, in the middle of the chaos is gojos lips pressed against yours. His hand is holding your waist, you’re slightly on your tippy toes to reach him. He sometimes zones off when paying because the picture catches his eye
BABE……..WHEN I TELL YOU IM BLUSHING N SQUEALING N KICKING MY FEET SM RN…..UHHH I THINK U MIGHT HAVE TO JUST TAKE OVER WRITING THE SERIES FOR ME??? bc i went thru sm emotions reading these pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
ok first of all tysm for thinking of these and sending them to me???? i genuinely cannot believe youve made headcanons for my fic that’s so surreal n i will forever remember this 😭😭
BUT ALSO THESE ARE SO ACCURATE PLS and all the little details omg it means sm that youve noticed all these lil thinfs throughout the fic n their relationship n i cld cry rn 😭😭
pls excuse me for addressing each n every one of these bc im so excited by them i fear this ask will be long so i’m adding a keep reading loool
sobsosbsosbsbsossbb the headcanons ab their digital fuckups LMAOO omg reader is 100% the type to be stalking him at 3am even tho she swears shes not even THAT down bad for him n then she loses all feeling in her face when she realizes she liked a post from when he was like in high school or sumn🧍🏻♀️there’s no coming back from that LMFAOO but i feel like gojo wldnt even notice it bc he probs gets a lot of notifs so she’s safe this time around 😭😭 BUT YOURE ALSO SO RIGHT AB HIM REREADING MESSAGES N THEN GETTING SPOOKED WHEN HE REALIZES SHE SAW THAT HE READ IT RIGHT AWAY LMAO i feel like he’d pull something like “uhhhh i was just about to trxt you, that’s why” and she’s like “🤨 this is the fifth time that’s allegedly happened”
aww reader trying to understand soccer for him 😭 thats so cute bahah also i made another headcanon recently from another anon who mentioned gojo streaming the world cup hehe it’d be so cute if reader shows up to the frat game nights in the jersey of the team that gojo’s rooting for bc she’s just trying to be a supportive girlfriend n she gets excited watching the game but she’s actually got no clue what tf is going on 💀 but gojo adores her for it so thats ok
the lockscreeennn that’s so cute 😭 also i love the idea of reader being his muse too :”) like he doesn’t know much about photography but bc of her he’s like kinda curious about it now so he’s always taking pictures of her w his phone while she’s not looking :”) i imagine his camera roll is just a bunch of candids of her while she’s dissociating off into the distance or something 🤣 n he’s like “wow so pretty im so good at this”
OK BUT READER IS ME THINKING AB GOJO EVERYWHERE I GO LMAOO no but srs that one made heart skip a beat bc how sweeettt is that 😭 i think that is a true mark of love where u think of someone everywhere you go :”) for gojo, i imagine that anytime he sees anything scenic or colorful or something like blooms of flowers or a nice sky he thinks of how she wld probably really love to take pics of it n he gets sad she’s not there to do so
okk im down for sims boyfriend gojo 🤣 and wdym by fun time omg 😭 pls dont tell me it’s possible to make people BONK on sims. ive seen a lot of tiktoks recently about how they added gojo to stardew valley n ppl have been marrying him lmfaoo i wonder if gojo wld try to marry her in sims 💀 cant tell if thats cute or creepy PLS tbh i’d probs be like “aww babe”🧍🏻♀️
and YES AB THE ONE WHERE SHE STARES AT GOJO’s PICS THATS PRACTICALLY CANON, also, there was supposed to be a scene exactly like that in ch8 where mina walks in on her staring at the pics she was editing for her professor 😭😭 so ur 100% right on. i just bet he looks so handsome in those photos cuz he’s concentrated n sweaty n probs looks really determined n in his element tbf i’d be starinf at those pics too LOL
YOURE SO RIGHT HAHA he’d make sure their kids are soccer prodigies 😭😭 startin them YOUNG. reader’s like “dont u think they’ve practiced enough today…they’re supposed to go to that birthday party at noon” and he’s like “THE GRIND NEVER STOPS😤🔥” 💀💀 unironically the type of dad that wakes his kids up at 5am on summer break to take em to soccer bootcamp or sumn 😭😭 ok but he knows theyre just kids n lets them have fun haha obviously but he just has high expectations for them lmaoo
im so tender to the idea of reader having played soccer in her youuuuthh how cute wld it be if she unknowingly also had a crush on gojo back when they were kids (maybe there was some sort of co-ed game they played ONCE when their elementary schools organized it n she was like omg who’s that boy over theree n it’s just 8 y/o gojo who’s got all the 2nd grade girlies swooning even back then 🤣) but in adulthood she probably doesnt rememebr that at all haha OMGGGG I NEED TO MAKE THIS CANON BC HOW ADORABLE WOULD IT BE IF GOJO’s MOM HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF THE GAME BACK THEN N U CAN SEE LITTLE GOJO N LITTLE READER ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO im gonna sob???? im so inspired by these rn??? anon??? can i fr hug u through the screen???
omggg ok im deceased im dead ab the PICTURE IN HIS WALLET. THAT IS SO HUSBAND CODED and adorabke asf i just might melt rn 😭 him getting distarcted while paying kakskddjhd also i can imagine him having a picture in his wallet of her in her cap n gown on n stoles n everything during graduation or something bc it reminds him of their college days :”) n when he’s playing away games during national league he’s always looking at it when he’s away from home bc he misses her
also i feel like suguru might’ve taken the photo as a polaroid 🤔 now i headcanon that kickoff reader also has a polaroid camera bc why wouldnt she lmfaoo 🤣 but just imagine the polaroid relationship wall LOL its so corny but i wld want them to make one together 😩💕
screaming. crying. feeling so inspired rn. cheesing. cheeks r hurting. love u sm anon srs if you have more i will gobble them up like a turkey. LOVE YOU <333
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We hold each other
a/n: tomorrow is my first day at my new school orientation and i wrote this instead of sleeping BSJNSISJ BUT!!! can we please talk about miguel being needy?? i know most (if not all) of us see him as a dom or at least someone who likes to be in charge….but the thought of him CRUMBLING underneath your touch???? walk with me yall… i hope you all enjoy this!! as always happy reading and credit to the gif owner! wish my luck for tomorrow pls
THIS IS A SMUT!! if you are a minor DNI!!! this is ur warning!
warnings: unprotected sex, (wrap before u tap) miguel being needy(ish), lots of spanish phrases and stuff, not proofread (that's a warning itself), all lowercase is intentional, that's all i can think of rn yall im ngl
reader doesn't use any pronouns but miguel does call them "mami" and reader has fem presenting anatomy, reader also doesn't have any specific racial qualities!
“and peter….pinche cabrón, don't get me started about him cariño, we're lucky that lego spiderman got there when he did.”
“i know miggy” you sigh out as your hands work and massage his muscles, trying your best to get all the knots out of his body. he groans and leans more into your touch, his hands flying up to massage his temples.
“i just, i need them to listen to me.”
a hum leaves your mouth as you place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, smiling when you can practically see his worries melt away the second your lips meet his skin.
“you work so hard, don't you guapo?” you whispered in his ear.
he throws his head back to look at you, grunting and nodding his head.
“pobrecito, you're just trying to take care of them, yeah?”
it's pathetic and he knows it is, but he can't help the way his eyes close and how frantically he's nodding his head. you get him, you understand him in ways nobody else can and he loves you for it.
you leave your spot from behind the couch and settle into his lap, gently pushing his hair out of his face.
“who takes care of you then baby?”
he shakes his head, almost as if he's silently saying no one, but that's not true. you both know how far from the truth that is.
“want me to take care of you miggy?” you pull away from him and gently grab his chin making him look at you. “want me to make you feel good?”
“please” he practically whines out. his hands flying to your hips as he leans in close trying to close the space between you both.
thats all it takes for you to put your hands on his chest, your lips against his as you slowly push him back to relax onto the couch.
“pobrecito miguel,” you whisper against his lips.
“just wanna be taken care of don't you?”
he nods his head, bucking his hips up to meet yours as your lips graze the side of his neck.
“you work too hard miguel. let me do the work tonight, yeah?”
a broken groan leaves his lips when he sees you sink down onto your knees smiling up at him as you place a kiss against the bulge that's straining against his spider-suit. you giggle quietly as your hands come up to gently massage at his thighs, causing him to buck his hips up against the air above him.
“so eager baby. you need this don't you?”
he nods his head again, parts of his suits already starting to disappear.
“please.”
you shush him, your hands playing with the waistband of his boxers as you slowly pull them off his legs.
“it's okay, guapo. i'll take care of you now.”
he doesn't have time to comprehend what you're saying because your hand is already wrapped around him, stroking him slowly. he moans quietly when he sees your tongue leave your mouth and wet your lips.
“f-fuck, just like that cariño.” he whimpers out when you lean down and kiss the head of his dick. he feels his eyes widen and nearly roll to the back of his head when you start taking him down your throat.
“w-wait amor- ah!” his claws are out and digging into the couch.
“‘s t-too big f-for you-”
you roll your eyes at his words and quickly shove him down your throat, looking up at him with tears pricking your eyes as you gag around him and try and catch your breath.
miguel throws his head back, claws ripping the couch cushions apart as he feels your throat close around him. you pull off him with a pop and panting trying to catch your breath.
“never too big for me querido.”
you lean down again kissing his thighs as you stroke him.
“the perfect size for me. so big and pretty just for me.”
miguel groans at the feeling of your mouth on him again. your hand reaching for his shaky one as you place it on top of your head silently asking him to set the pace for you. he lifts his head up slightly, a small smiling making it's way onto his features as both of his hands cup your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth.
“aye, que linda mi amor- fuck!”
you moan around him as his thrusts become quicker.
“look so pretty like this baby…”
a gag leaves your mouth as he hits the back of your throat, chuckling lightly.
“‘s okay baby, you can take it, así. so good for me.
his hands release you and you pull away from him coughing a bit as you try and slow your breathing.
miguel quickly reaches forward and brings you into his lap, kissing you passionately as his hands reach under your (his) shirt gripping at the skin he's been dying to feel. a growl falls from his lips as he rips the shirt off of you and roughly tugs at your shorts.
“how much do you like these shorts?” he mumbles against your lips.
“i can live without them.”
a yelp escapes from you as the cold air meets the bare part of your lower body.
“i'll buy you new underwear too,” he pants out as he leaves kisses and small bites on your neck. his hips buck up to meet yours but you shake your head and grab onto his wandering hands, pinning them down against his side.
“i'm taking care of you.”
you reach down between you both, the head of his dick teasing your entrance as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.
“please,” he whines out. “take care of me mi alma.”
moans leave your lips while a string of curse words in english and spanish fall from miguel’s lips. his hands grip onto the couch cushions once again before you reach for them and interlock your fingers with his.
“feels so good miguel.” you moan out, bouncing slowly on top of him.
his head falls onto your shoulder as his hands gently squeeze yours.
“fuck, keep riding me like that cariño.”
he lets go of one of your hands, bringing his hand down and smacking your ass. a tired smile dancing on his lips when you arch your back into him.
your thighs feel like they're on fire but when you look down at miguel and see the blush on his cheeks and see how fucked out he looks you decide to ignore it. moans leave your mouth when miguel reaches up to play with your boobs, his tongue occasionally wrapping itself around your nipple.
“fuck miguel!” your hand falls between your bodies, messily rubbing circular motions on your clit making you clench around miguel. he groans loudly and finally lifts his hips up to meet yours.
“que rico mami, feels so good.” a breathy laugh fills your ears.
“i can feel you tightening around me- oh my god.” his head falls onto your shoulders and his hands grip your hips, holding you still as he thrusts up into you.
“feels so good cariño. fuck, you’re gonna cum? huh?”
you moan loudly and nod your head frantically, your hands flying to his shoulders as he holds onto you.
“just like that baby, good job- fuck.”
your hips are grinding down on his as you moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders.
“‘m close miguel!”
his lips are all over your neck and chest before you hear him panting in your ear.
“i know querida, fuck. c-can feel your pretty pussy clenching around me.”
he moans and then lets out a chuckle as he drags his fangs across your neck.
“cum for me amor, wanna feel you make a m-mess all over me-”
a loud groan leaves his mouth as his grip tightens around your hips when he feels you clenching around him and making a mess all over him.
“good job baby,”
he grunts out, his hips slamming against yours as he chases his own high.
“s-so fucking good for me, making a mess all over me- fuck! s-so fucking wet and t-tight.”
his lips slam into yours and you both swallow each other's moans as he fills you up, his thrusts becoming weak and messy before he holds you still against him. you giggle softly when you feel him smile and pant against your lips leaning up just a bit so he can gently kiss you.
“let's get you some water mi vida,” he whispers softly, pulling away from you and moving a strand of hair out of your face.
“i'm not done with you just yet.”
#miguel o'hara atsv#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara across the spiderverse#atsv fluff#atsv smut#atsv x reader#atsv imagines
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IDKK IF YOU TAKE REQUEST BUT :>
Giving your hand to zb1 members w/out saying anythingg
> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem!reader
> warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread
> song recommendation: lemonade by dreamnote
> note: long time no see yall … but im back ig (can u tell I had no idea what to do on matthews part lmao ??)
김 jiwoong.
if u really want to confuse ur man this is the right way
jiwoong would look up from his phone screen with question marks around his face
“what?” in the most quiet tone the world has ever heard 😭
hes so puppy.
would hold ur hand
he’s getting more and more confused with each passing second
tries not to laugh so hard.
i mean you just stand there like 🧍🏻♀️ GIRL WHO WOULDNT LAUGH
when u continue to stay still he just goes “okay” and lets go of you hand
but u still don’t move even an inch
this bitch sighs in the most passive aggressive way ever
shakes his head and goes back to his phone
u give up cause … like girl who wouldnt
u just wanted ur boyfie to kiss ur hand.
장 hao.
MAN AINT NO SIMP ‼️💯
oh sorry forgot we talking bout hao
the way this boy is so whipped for u
GIRL TRUST
hes just casually eating his meal when all of a sudden his eyes catch ur figure
he’s excited because of the thought of eatin together, feeding u and allat ykyk
but u just🧍🏻♀️with ur hand in the front
“u hungry?” ppLEASE
when u dont respond he sits there with confused but still filled with love for you eyes
GIVES U THE CHOPSTICKS ?
hao so awkward 💔
eventually gives up guessing what u want and just places a random kiss on ur hand WE WON
성 hanbin.
HANBIN WOULD BE SO WORRIED ??
“did u get hurt?” “does ur hand hurt?”
when u dont respond he assumes somethings wrong so
he would massage the shit out of your hand 💯
but he’s so aggressive about it for some reason ? 😭
he would quite literally not massage but hit ur hand
like okay ig …
u kinda hiss in pain cause the way he “massages” ur hand just hurts ??
AND ALL OF A SUDDEN HOMEBOY TURNS INTO A GENTLE BABY
gently blows on ur hand 💔 pls kill me
like who blames him girl u steaming hot !
and all he was supposed to do was just to kiss ur hand
석 matthew.
why do i feel like he would be the one to give u his hand without saying anything
he immediately gets what u want but
BUT
he decides to mess with u a little
and just ignores u ?? like straight up 😭
and you’re kinda offended cause like ??
he literally pays zero attention to you
like zero, 0, none
u just sigh and give up
HES SO SORRY 😭
grabs both of ur hands and leaves wet marks on them (ew 💯)
promises not to ignore u ever again
김 taerae.
HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE
taerae would be kinda confused but i mean
he would jus take ur hand and stroke it with both of his thumbs
AND WHILE LOOKING STRAIGHT INTO UR EYES TOO ??
GORGEOUS SMILING BABY ‼️
“u want a kiss?” YES
YES I DO WANT A KISS PLS SIR PLs
he kisses your hand like it’s some fragile glass
taeraes lips make their way from your hand all the way up to your cheek
whispers little i love yous in between kisses
he’s a cutie
u love him sm 🫶🏻
리키 ricky.
gentleman. thats all.
i mean we talking bout ricky
the ceo of the rizz company himself
he knows u need his kisses the second he sees ur hand and the expression on ur face
he just knows you too well
girl and trust me when i say
he gives your hand kiss in the most gentleman way known to a MAN 😭
im being so fr u think about gentleman u think about rizzky
looks at u with those seductive eyes of his …….
asks u if u need something more ??
SIR WYM SOMETHINg MORE
but yes. yes i do. pls kiss my forehead.
김 gyuvin.
HES SO AWKWARD
and i dont mean it in a bad way cause hes like
awkward but in a cute way
he’s so clueless fr 🤓
like homeboy has NO idea what that hand for
just stares at it
does nothing else
just that blank stare 😭
u put ur hand closer to his lips to maybe like
help him guess ?? lmaoo 💔
gyuvin just tries to hold ur hand but like
VERY delicately
after what feels like HOURS he gets an idea ‼️
his lips finally melt on your skin
hi im gonna kms
박 gunwook.
okay now
he’s not AS clueless as gyuvin but still 😭
just as jiwoong, boy got question marks wandering around his lovely eyes
after few seconds he gets what you mean but like
he’s even more aggressive than hanbin about it ?? 😭
nuzzles his whole (literally whole) face in your hand
i have no idea how he does that but he just does.
as his lips finally meet your hand, his soft gaze locks in yours
but then the aggressiveness kicks in again
and he just
violently shakes ur hand ??
so playful, gunwook, so playful baby
u kinda like what the fuck cause
why ur boyfie so aggressive for ?? 🤨
but it just the way he is
cute aggression (gunwook version)
한 yujin.
oh yujin baby
immediately thinks u hurt yourself cause like
why else would u give him ur hand like that.
with kinda (not even kinda) puzzled look painted on his face
he grabs ur hand and starts brushing his fingers through your skin
looking for cuts, bruises, like whatever
but the wtf look on your face kinda knocks him off the track 😭
u start twitching ur hand a little so he gets the idea ??
it doesn’t work btw 💯
yujin officially has joined the confused squad
copies ur movements.
homeboy literally laughs at you
but he’s cute so
btw you’re the one who should’ve been kissing his hand. pls remember that ‼️
gvnvks © 2023
#zb1#zerobaseone#boys planet#zhang hao#sung hanbin#seok matthew#kim taerae#kim jiwoong#ricky#ricky shen#quanrui shen#kim gyuvin#park gunwook#han yujin#zb1 reactions#zb1 headcanons#zb1 drabbles#zb1 misc#zb1 scenarios#zb1 imagines#boys planet reactions#boys planet headcanons#boys planet imagines
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your cafe event is so cute!🩷🩷 Dazai hurt/comfort (the boy needs catharsis)...the word is scars. Thank you! -Iris🩵
a/n —hi hi iris!! tysm, im glad u think so :D i wanna wrap dazai in a blanket burrito like ppl do with their cats. hes just a little guy (in the tone of that tiktok audio thats like "what murdaaa?")!!! p.s i did ADA! dazai! sorry if you wanted mafia/dark era, pls let me know and i'll do another teehee
blanca’s cafe event!
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Dazai Osamu x GN!reader
Tags— angst, hurt/comfort, dazai osamu needs a hug, but pls dont touch him, or maybe do because it's you, wound dressing, themes of depression
CW/TW— self-harm (character runs hot water on hands), mentions of sh scars (non-explicit), trauma, disassociation!
please keep yourself safe.
𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:
"I Bet On Losing Dogs"
00:32 ━━●─────── 02:50
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ "i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place"
"Osamu? You alright in there?"
Your voice sounded muffled through the wooden door, and the cotton in his ears just made it that much harder to hear.
The tap kept running, the water so hot it steamed against the basin, rising and wisping across his face and leaving a dampness across his skin. His hands lay directly below the water, and he knows despite his nerves screaming from the cold feeling, they are experiencing a burn so intense the receptors cannot help but be confused by the extreme temperature.
He doesn't remember why he came in here or what he was doing before.
"...Osamu?" The door rattles for a moment. He can't tear his gaze away from the rushing water or his reddening skin.
The bathroom door opens, and the sudden movement in the corner of his eye is enough to drag him out of the fog. His head moves just enough to look at you, eyes blinking slowly.
"What?" He mutters, mouth heavy. His hands are still under the tap. He watches your face fall subtly. With gentle (kind, so kind) hands, you carefully push his hands out of the stream and turn the creaky faucet. The water stops abruptly, stray drops clinking against the sink.
"Osamu, can you hear me?" You say, and your voice sounds closer than it had earlier. Everything does- the way your clothes crinkle as you move to open the cabinet and gather a collection of things he can't muster the energy to pay attention to, his breathing, the shuffling of your shoes.
"Of course I can hear you." He answers, blinking heavily. He's present enough to feel a pinch of annoyance. Another episode, spacing out like an idiot when he could be doing anything else...like annoying Kunikida, napping, reading the same book for the 86th time,
Or talking to you. You said something again, didn't you?
"I'm sorry, what was that?" He hummed, blinking to gather his bearings again. You'd gotten him to sit on the toilet, lid closed, while you gently dabbed a cooling gel onto his irritated skin. There's a jolt of fear when he realizes his bandages lay on the counter, unraveled messily and leaving him exposed. Dazai figures he must've taken them off while he was under.
"I was just asking if you could hear me, Dazai-san." You say, smiling at him despite the concerned pinch of your brows. He nods, smiling in return.
"Yes, I can." He answers shortly. His skin itches where you touch, and he attributes it to the burns despite knowing touch has always felt vile to him. You put the burn gel on the counter and lean back, looking at him for a beat. He averts his eyes, shame clawing at his face.
"You shouldn't stare at me like that. You'll give me the wrong idea." He teases, but it falls flat, and he knows it. You huff a tiny sigh, pick up a roll of bandages, and hold out your hand.
"Let me?" You say, and your voice is so soft he leans forward like he was chasing the sound. His hair shifts with the movement when he nods. Your hands are on him again, and he focuses on keeping his breathing steady while your hands move to wrap his arms. The fabric settles familiarly against his skin, though these seem scratchier than the ones he prefers to buy. Your application is just as kind as you, not as tight as he often does, to keep them from unraveling faster.
"I'm sorry." He says, and his voice falters in a way he had worked hard to never let you hear before. You finish off the first arm before saying anything, crouching so he'd be forced to look you in the eyes. You brace yourself against his knees, and the tingles that come from the touch aren't as pronounced this time.
"Don't be. I don't mind, and I never will. Not if it's you, Dazai." You assure him, absently running your thumb across the fabric covering his knee. You stand again and gently take his other arm.
Dazai lets you, a mess of feelings that all feel like they burn across his skin, hotter than the water that had bitten at his hands.
"You shouldn't call me that, you know." He mutters, frowning. You pause, and he knows you tilted your head in confusion without even looking up.
"Call you what?" You answer, moving to wrap another loop around his arm. He grins.
"You called me Osamu earlier, hm? It hurts my feelings to return to Dazai," He whines, and you startle with a little jolt. Dazai suppressed the smile that threatened to grow at your surprise.
"Sorry, I- didn't think you could hear me, so I thought it would shock you if I used your name." You explained, voice small. He smiled this time, looking up at you.
"Mm, smart of you. Still, you can call me Osamu. I like the way you say it." He says- eyes narrowed in that way he can't help. You fiddle with the bandage roll in your hands, and he's satisfied to make you flustered again.
You settle with another sigh, resuming your task. With you so close, Dazai can see how you fight off a smile. It makes him feel like he's won, somehow- like seeing the worried crease on your face melt away was his only goal, and having done it makes his skin settle, no longer buzzing and crawling like it always does.
"Sure, if you're alright with it then." You answer, smiling gently. He averts his gaze and lets you finish, feeling cold when you step away to put the things back into the medicine cabinet. He stands, mindful of the gel still on his hands, despite the urge to shove them into his pockets like he often does.
You turn to him once you're done, a little nervous. He waits patiently for you to gather your words.
"You shouldn't wrap your bandages so tight. It's not good for your circulation. I don't know how long you were like...that, but there were still marks from them on your arms. Please." You say, leaning your weight on the counter.
Dazai blinks at you for a moment, but he smiles and nods.
"Alright, I'll try not to."
You grin at his reply and exit the bathroom without another word. He follows, quickly turning off the light as you walk down the hall, back to the main room of Cafe Uzumaki.
There's a lot left to say, he thinks. He knows you have questions about the scars that litter his arms, some clean and some jagged and painful-looking. He knows you want to help; it's in your nature to help.
He wants to ask you to say his name until it doesn't sound real anymore, wants to feel your hands on his skin again because he wants to know if the itch was really from you or the burn, and wants to let you bandage his arms every day because you do it with an amount of care he is sure he does not deserve.
But walking up the stairs back to the agency (where Atsushi will look at him warily in fear of another report being bummed off to him, and Kenji will ask him if city folk always take hours in the bathroom) next to you, he finds he can't bring himself to be as selfish as to ask you anything more.
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things i cant stop thinking about !!
most of this is going to imperium related so enjoy my brain turning mwah
also pls ignore my mid sentence rambling i have a serious problem
warnings: gore/mentions of death , violence , imperium , swearing :D , adult with internet access cant shut up
- yandere caller being a shade
(someone said this on a hc list and now im actively running with it)
- sams eyes being brown
(as a brown eye haver i know he misses them dearly and i wnna give him the worlds sweetest biggest longest hug)
- the idea of gavin “slicing” peoples threads for kody in imperium
(forcing my husband ((i need therapy im married to a fictional incubus)) to do such acts simply because you want to you sick freak ILL FUCKING KILL U- oh wait gavin already did xoxo kiss my ass from hell kody)
- the look on kodys face at the end of it all
(as previously stated i wanted that man dead.. i just wanna make sure hes actually gone yknow)
- what asher’s smile looked like when him and david were together (imperium)
(knowing that david was gone, hearing the random audience member asking for david to be alive and left alone in the first imperium video, knowing they were mates, knowing how heartbroken asher was after his death i just wanna see them happy maann ((it feels criminal to use emojis on tumblr)) 😭😭)
- if lasko calling freelancer “my dear” when you first met him in the haven was a sneak peek for his later ((is the word prime for like normal redacted universe characters i can’t remember, like prime lasko yada yada)) listeners name
- if no one was watching gavin WOULD HE HAD BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF IMP!HUXLEY???
(the amount of shit talking hux did when freelancer and gavin first get to the haven had me ready to fight in an instant ((it mightve just been my overwhelming adoration for gavin but still)) like he was acting like an annoying jock who gets a job as security for some fuck ass rich university and thinks hes on top of the world like dont piss me off huxley or damien gets it in the other universe so help me god)
- is anyone else as attracted to the tension between vincent and asher in imperium as i am..
(i have no words for how “yippee kicking my feet happy smiley kiss now kiss now what if u kissed rn” i was when asher and vincent are talking but also i feel like pet ((is that vincents listeners name or vegas I CANT REMEMBER PLS)) was behind a door listening in and getting jealous bc “that should be me holding your hand..”
… excuse the outburst)
- vampire milo.. thats all
(GAWD hes so hot like he always is and always has been but jesus FUCKING christ theres something about him having been a vamp did something to me that i cant even explain)
- what was avior saying to lasko to make him irritated with him..
(i mean yeah hes a yapper but i feel like it was just “hey we need help down here” and lasko rolling his eyes and waiting two weeks before actually doing anything)
- WHERE TF IS ELLIOT WHERE TF IS SUNSHINE CAN I BEAT BLAKES ASS??
- what would have happened had milo not broken the ward
(again someone else mentioned this ((i would tag them but it was 6hrs ago and i was just scrolling and reading)) and now i cant stop thinking about it)
- what is avior hearing in his last video
(its been a while since ive actually listened to aviors playlist again but there was a voice or sounds he was hearing after getting out of the meridian and its just been on my mind)
- gavin having a myspace account
(he would love myspace i just know he would and i feel like he’d be an avid tumblr user but like its just him posting his favorite pics of himself from the week and updates on whatever small pet him and freelancer would very obviously inevitably get bc he saw it in a pet store or on the street and couldnt resist)
- what happens when freelancer gets old..
(freelancer is just that.. a freelancer. they arent a vamp, or a demon, or even some secret third thing.. what happens to them and gav when they get old. have they had that talk yet? i shouldnt think about this bc it makes me spiral into a bucket of tears and sadness bc its the same thing with sam and darlin’ like we wont know what theyll do when their partners get old and they are still young and immortal.. sigh 😔)
- can i cut the meridian open with a knife if i tried?
(how thin is the meridian? how easy is it to access? how long would it take me to literally stab it open? ((i have serious issues)) )
- imp!damien..
(yea i have a crush on him or whatever nothing crazy)
- is the person asher catches in imperium baabe or is it just random listener #18683 ?
(obviously my first thought when i listened to imperium like a year ago i thought baabe nd asher would be together ((i was delusional and on an asher high)) but then when it was revealed that he and david were mates in that universe did that mean baabe just doesnt exist or are they the person that gets caught by him or again some secret third thing)
- what happens to angel in the mess that is imperium, honestly what happens to all the shaw pack listeners
(obviously sweetheart is left out of this equation bc them and milo are still happily obsessed with each other in every universe BUT angel, baabe, and darlin where yall at??)
- WHERE ARE THE AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE EMPATHY DEMONS IN IMPERIUM UNIVERSE??
(this just popped into my mind but WHERE IS MY SON?? what have u done with my son WHERE IS MY SON??!!?)
- is anyone else as obsessed with just erik and his mind?
(that handsome blessing to my youtuber universe.. i could listen to him babble for hours and will do so bc it feeds my “listening to nerdy man babble on abt his fixations” quota)
- what imperium versions of characters do people prefer over their counterparts
(personally i prefer imp! huxley, damien, and vincent over their prime versions ((still dont know if im using the term prime in the right context)) idk what it is but well i know what it is for huxley and damien but we dont need to get into why i dont like hux and dames rn :D but for vincent i just like seeing a different version of him i think.. hes so confident with his decisions, and knows what he wants in imperium i just want that for regular vince too.. sigh)
uhh anyways.. i think thats enough thinking for now, going back to sleep
stay safe out there
#redacted audio#redacted sweetheart#redactedverse#redacted vincent#redacted asher#redacted david#redacted headcanons#redacted sam#redacted milo#redacted#redacted lovely#redacted asmr#i cant wrap my tiny little brain around all the information i just processed
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Guys i fucking love those fanfics where snufkin doesnt understand what love feels like and thinks hes idk, diseased or some shit or just hates moomintroll suddenly, and then starts figuring it out and then after confesses to moomin ect ect HOWEVER can u IMAGINE what it would be like if snufkin confesses (without knowing hes confessing) in that first stage oh my god pls 💀💀
“moomintroll, i feel terrible around you, im practically terrified to even look you in the eyes, when you hold my hand i feel ill” LIKE GUYS PLEASE SEE MY VISION imagine snufkin breaks in (is willing let in) to moomins room and starts panicking saying all this shit being like “do you have a fever moomintroll?????? Is it contagious moomintroll?????!!?!!!!?!??!?” Anyways moomintroll is like oh noo im making my friend feel uncomfortable and it sounds like he probably hates me, awkuardness for the next couple of days ensues, and then snorkmaiden sees moomin has been upset recently and shes like talk to me about ur god damn issues ❤️ and then hes like yeah snufkin hates me now and is also sick and i think i gave him an illness that i didnt even realise i probably have,,,,,, and then snorkmaiden is like what,,,, what do u mean he hates u and hes sick,,,,, and moomintroll starts explaining and snorkmaiden is like actually exploding loosing her mind because ohmygod what kind of a love confession was that and then moomins like WDYM A LOVE CONFESSION ???????????
So then moomintroll and snorkmaiden go to snufkin and basically stage an intervention lmao, snorkmaiden gives him a book and everything about the symptoms of love and how it works ect, snorkmaiden is like 🙏 you god damn green boy have you ever heard of love before 🙏 (meanwhile moomin is awkuardly sitting next to her in the tent looking between her and snufkin, probably has his face in his hands most of the time) and snufkins like 😐 wtf guys ive never loved in my life that shit sounds really annoying lol 😐 and then snorkmaidens like, yeah, you ARE annoyed dumbass, what was all that stuff about wanting to throw up when moomin holds your hand, and then snufkins like 🙄 smh thats not what i meant by sickness, i meant like a fever, like fast heart rate, high temperature, flushed face, ect and he thinks hes really got them, hes so confident about it, hes like this will prove to them i have a fever and dont have any of this wanting to kiss moomin shit, but snorkmaiden is just looking into snufkins god damn eyes with the most “🤨” expression and shes just opens her silly book she gave him and opens it on a chapter talking about those symptoms, and snufkin is just staring and this thing hes like … no …… i have a fever …. Im fever boy ……… and so snorkmaiden is like oh my god pls just read the book so her and moomintroll leave him alone, and then like over the course of the next few weeks they both help him slowly realise that hes in love and like idk guys i think it would be funny but also very sweet
#AJSHSJSDJDJ#snufmin#moomin#moominvalley#mv19#snufkin#moomintrolll#snorkmaiden#moomin fanfiction#snufmin fanfiction#tbspost#anyways yeah guess whos reading red thicket LMAO#myposts
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Have you got some Takoyama headcanons? 🐙
yeah i have quite a little written down in my notes app,, ghhh ghfgbh,, not the best and im. a lil shy, also kinda worried that alot of these are just mad obvious but ummm yeah this is what ive got for now, sorry it took so long to get to you!
some Takoyama headcanons!! woop woop
* ambidextrous (aka doesn’t have a more dominant hand)
* is a pescatarian (maybe)
* uses his tentacles to open things like clams and jars :3
* uses his tentacles to hold things!!!!
* really likes to dance
* i imagine his house is connected to his salon(probably in an upstairs or downstairs area)
* definitely a bit wealthy, makes a hella good earning like wjat da hellllllll hes got a fancy ass sports car in the anime hes def not poor
* has two legs under his dress, suckers at the bottom of his feetsies, wears flip flops/sandals or whateva
* likes rain probably
* good swimmer(obviously)
* very much an early bird, sleeps early
* can take care of himself very well, doesn’t usually ask for help with things
* overworks himself a lot :( poor baby
* rarely swears in blue form but is a huge potty mouth in red form
* hates messes, likes keeping things as tidy as he can
* has a super bedazzled flip phone instead of a regular cellphone cuz he can just close his phone shut all sassy to hang up a call 🤭🤭🤭 ooouuuu
* red takoyama is really warm to the touch whilst blue takoyama is colder
* has to bundle up SO MUCH during winter times, especially in blue form since hes already cold blooded, i imagine he becomes really stiff
* has a waterbed fs (i also like imagining his mattress is circular instead of rectangular lol)
* sleeps with alotta pillows, how comfy
* mutters/mumbles/talks a bit in his sleep
* if he hugs you he can just sorta latch on and wrap around u, and its really hard to pry him off if he doesn’t wanna let u go
* likes being a bit fashionable whenever he can teeheee
* sings very loudly to himself a lot whenever he’s doing something alone (cooking, doing chores, etc.)
* i imagine his love languages are mostly spending quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation and he also likes physical touch alot alot he can be super affectionate and loving
* loves decorating the interior of his salon and home!!!!!!, def has a very beachy oceany sea vibes to his house
* just really friendly, he probs knows/is familiar with like,, everyone in parappatown,,, bro has got connections (at least as his blue self)
* probably sees yoko as a sister i think thats cute
* i like imagining him super strong,,, like alot of things he can lift almost effortlessly
* its very cool to imagine that he used to just straight up live in the ocean before moving to parappatown to pursue his hairdressing career
* super flexible has no bones!!!!!
* hates wearing no shoes/socks because his suckers stick to the floor
* smells like shampoo, hair products, some kinda sea scent,, maybe a lil like sea food potentially?🤔🤔🤔(it depends on the day i guess)
i did leave some out bc theyre my cringe selfshippy ones bu bu bu bu but please eat these up please enjoy pls pls plsss!!!!! *runs away sobbing* STOPYELLINGATME
(disclaimer some of these were inspired/given to me by pals and stuff:3 thank you all)
#parappa the rapper#um jammer lammy#hairdresser octopus#takoyama#parappa the rapper 2#headcanon#headcanons#character headcanons#i love this guy so much#i love takoyama#please dont laugh at me!!!!#favorite character of all time
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omg ok so I kno u busy rn w ktober but like I just had a thought and I want u to hear it 🤭
high libido!mc who is sexually frustrated because cove is away on a business trip and no matter how hard they try mc just can’t get themselves off
like hand or toys just can NOT do it for them because they’re so used to having cove around to help them and nothing can compare to him
and cove comes home from his business trip and finds them desperately masturbating on the bed, crying from frustration and they’re like
“this is ur fault I can’t cum without u” w big watery eyes and a pout and yeah cove takes them right there 🫣 he prolly moaning in their ear abt how he missed them too
help the period horny is so crazy rn ur rlly feeding me w kinktober take care don’t burn urself out trying to keep up w the numbers 🫶🏽
-🗑️
AWE TYSM🫶🫶 im pre-writing some stuff n a lotta stuff is already written, plus i can tell you rn the ones w multiple boys for example will be short, so i'll be okay!!! ty for thinking abt me tho thats so sweet <333 MWAH also period horny is so different... thats fueling me rn
ALSO I THINK ABOUT THIS ALL THE TIME
especially after the first time they have sex, like the patreon moment or the time they go all the way especially
its so hard now that you've had a taste of cove, his fingers, tongue, his dick. even though he's not skilled he's still so cute, and the experience is so intense since he's your lover
you'd actually give him a confidence boost n yk how cove gets kinda sassy sometimes, like for example say at fond when he jokes abt marrying liz? he's like that for hoursss
sometimes he remembers seeing you so desperate on the bed, your toys abandoned at your side and your fingers making work of your sex but you're so unsatisfied, even if you finish it doesn't feel as good as when cove makes you finish
n he'll tease you when he finally fucks you, between him fingering n giving you head and now mocking you with "aw, is this what you've been waiting for~?", you're brought to tears
pls this is so good... he'd hold you from behind or lean over you, holding your hands, and tells you how pretty you are, how much he missed you, how he wished you were there to get him off after a stressful business dinner with some big client.
even if you sext or call n have phone sex, it's just not the same n makes you guys miss each other so much more...
please you unleashed my biggest brain worms
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pls!! i was about to ask u if u received it or not but also i didn’t want to rush u into replying lol 👉🏻👈🏻😔
what do u think of. too. like. i love what u said and if juyeon keeps going deeper into depravity (forgive me if that doesn’t make sense) um he begins to grow horns?😈😈 and becomes a demon as well and it’s all because he would rather lust over u than be an angel or smth idk
also. idk if this is too fucked up or doesn’t make sense? but like. if u literally become addicted to their cum and are unable to function unless you’ve been fucked and filled up by them (i’m talking jumil) recently? like u get sick if they don’t take care of you and they mock u a lot for being unable to survive with their attention.. idk if that’s too weird tho so😶
pls rizz!matthew is always doing a fish eye stare of some kind pls!!🤭🤭 he’s so funny my little loser /pos
so yes i also loved everything u said and how he would manhandle u but then also!!!! i desperately need jiwoong to wreck u and break u down and punish u for being such a spoiled little silver spoon gobbling brat!!!!!! need him to cum all over ur face and humiliate you omg.. (jiwoong filming u??🫢 jiwoong filming u and matt together maybe.. idk) i need some fuckin humiliation of both u and matthew at his hands oh god
- 🧁 anon
im rlly sorry i just didnt see the notif this morning n then was out the whole day 😕
(mattwoong sandwich part is under the cut btw i yap too much for my own good)
NO YEA THATS EXACTLY WHERE I WAS TRYING TO GO WITH THAT‼️ angel juyo who starts to grow horns n whose wings start falling apart n getting darker the more hes attracted to you and wants to ruin you 💔💔💔 n hyunjae 'teaching' him how to be a demon (= how to ruin u even more) n omg !! needing their cum to live .. thats insane but also i love fuck or die situations so ,, :3 not to get too fucked up but ngl since they're both immortal i think sometimes they'd hold the 'threat' of not giving you their cum and letting u die instead . they won't do it , probably , and they have a way of making you an immortal demon too if something goes wrong and you do die bc they could never let you go - BUT its such a fucked sadistic thing of them to do and sometimes when you get a little too spoiled they need to remind you what your place is and that you are the fucktoy here :3
im like 95% sure this made no sense help
nowww 🥪 mattwoong sandwich 🥪 time‼️‼️‼️
srry this has some slight pet play n maybe dubcon idk i use the word 'forcing' but its not rlly forced omfg im rambling . idk . i went insane bye
im sorry my brain just tunnel visioned on jiwoong filming u n matt omg ★_★ it's so humiliating bc he's calling both of you his desperate puppies who can't wait for their owner and need to mess around behind his back ,, giving you orders on what to do and how to do it , forcing your head so you have no choice but to kiss matt , making out with him until you're both two drooling messes grinding on each other for any kind of release - and ofc jiwoong films all the little disgusting details , like how your spit runs down your chin and the pathetic wet patch at the front of matthew's shorts , and maybe gropes your tits a little and pinches your nipples through your top just to make you squeal and whine for his enjoyment („• ᴗ •„) calls you a spoiled brat n his little slut , and calls matthew a dirty mutt who can only think with his dick omfgfhfbf im going crazy
now i'm thinking of jiwoong having you n matt on ur knees right in front of him to suck n worship his cock too ohhhh i feel sick
#🍰 seongminiz !#🍞 tbz !#🥯 jebewon !#💭 . 🧁 anon !#🥪 mattwoong sandwich#tbz hard hours#the boyz hard hours#zb1 hard thoughts#zb1 hard hours#zerobaseone hard thoughts#zerobaseone hard hours#zb1 smut#zerobaseone smut
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hii I’m a different anon but I was wondering if u could link the videos to the crochet tutorials pls😭😭 I’ve been trying to figure it out and it’s kinda. not clicking for me at all lmao but anyway!!! thank u <3
yes!! okay so i used all these videos to learn specifically amigurumi (making little creatures) therefore a lot of them will be based around that. if you're interested in making things like clothes or tapestries im not the best person to ask, but i think a lot of these channels also have videos on those topics!
first off this video just teaches you how to do a slip stitch, which is just the basic method of getting your yarn on the hook to create foundational chains! this is sometimes used to make amigurumi as well as creating flat pieces, and there are several different ways to go about it but this video focuses on the pretzel method which i find easiest!
now this is specific to amigurumis, but the first step essentially is the magic circle. let me tell you i spent like. 3 hours one day on Just this step and watched so so so many videos, but i went back in my youtube search history and found this specific video because it just made it click in my brain. i even left a little comment being like "THANK YOU" so i know its this one hehe
this video talks about how to properly count your stitches/use stitch markers when making an amigurumi, and that's honestly lifesaving information to know when you're first starting out.
and finally i owe this video my life. seriously. it takes you through the process of crocheting a no-sew amigurumi that's very achievable for a first time beginner. it's great because the pattern is showed on screen while the artist explains each step, so it really helps you understand patterns and what they're asking you to do. i cannot express how much i owe literally everything ive ever crocheted to this baby octopus tutorial because after i followed it, i had a little baby octopus in my hand and i was like holy fuck i MADE THAT and then i just went from there <3
one note i'll also add is that sometimes when you're watching tutorials you might see some artists hold the yarn a different way (between different fingers etc) or even hold their hook a different way, and it doesn't mean they're doing it Right and you're doing it Wrong. aside from following a pattern, the way you crochet depends on what feels comfortable to you. im sooooo slow compared to a lot of the people in these tutorials, but thats just how i crochet and its fine! so dont get too caught up in trying to perfectly mimic everything you see these people doing, because a lot of it depends on the person <3
here’s my first ever ami, made using the baby octopus tutorial! you can even see the bag with all my brand new yarn and hooks and everything in the background lmao. and i am not a crafty person i typically don’t pick up on things very fast, but this is easier than it looks and it’s 100% doable for anyone. you can do this!! fr!!!
#i hope these are helpful and i hope you guys crochet in the new year!!!!#also if the magic ring is tough for anyone i could try to make a video explaining it (keyword try) in my own words ?#answered
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Hello!! Im really really sorry if im disturbing u or anything but i wanted to request a matchup of thats ok😭
Since I saw that they were open, I'd like to request a twst matchup^^ be warned my grammar is really eurghgh bad😢😢
So starting off with my personality,, Im an enfp, 7w6, scorpio sun, cancer moon, and sagittarius rising!
Im honestly a really fun and charming person to be with -said pretty much everyone i know
But even though I'm fun to be with, i can lowk be pretty annoying😭 But shoving that aside, Im really caring, really motherly tbh. Ive sorta been a personal nurse AND doctor for my friends - and family members when they were sick - as a child and now. Im kinda like,, a duplicate of emu otori and mizuki akiyama from pjsk..!
I can always cheer anyone up, jokes, comforting words, anything! I always try my best to make people happy,, honestly kind of a people pleaser but whatever!
My friends tell me I remind them of a goldfish, so they just call me "the celestial goldfish of (gc name)"
VERY soft hearted person😞
Im really good with children somehow.. I dont even know how but yeah - somehow,, babies cry whenever i leave the room😭 so pretty much - im a good babysitter err aunt! I guess!
My love language is probably physical touch,, i always want to kiss my lovers cheeks, and hold their hands! Im asexual though so im like- really uncomfortable if it gets mistaken for something sexual😭😭
I also love giving gifts to my friends even though im broke asf
Buuuuuut moving on - what abt my interests, hobbies??
I love astronomy so so much, and stargaze whenever given the chance! I've memorized like 10 constellations in the spam of 5 minutes since i have a photographic memory (even when i have the memory span of a goldfish,, wow)
I also love art! Sculpting, painting, music (that counts right?) Anything.. It calms me so so much i just love it😍😍
I also like gaming, even if i dont game as much anymore.. Im honestly so pro at every game i swear💯💯💯‼️‼️‼️
I also like collecting anything and everything. Plushies, sea shells, dolls, make up, mirrors.. No wonder im poor damn
i love listening to music too, i mean who doesnt!! Stan twice and yousei teikoku (lob their music sm)
I also like reading, and writing too! I mostly read and write poetry, sometimes i cry because i relate to it though huhu..
I also love love loveee shopping, especially with friends! I also buy atleast 1 or 2 plush(ies) whenever i go shopping because of my unhealthy obsession with them😔🤞
So liek after i just told u all of that pls let me tell u random stuff abt me🥰🥰
I usually get into fights (depending on my mood tbh) and end up just dating the person i was fighting😭 (enemies 2 lovers fr)
I dress in lolita fashion!! Mostly sweet lolita, but i dress in gothic lolita at times!
I am an energy ball,, no, i am a rain cloud looking to ruin someones day,, no, i am both.
I honestly love rainy days sm😍😍 sometimes i like it when its kinda stormy, but where im from were more prone to floods so keyword SOMETIMES😭
I totally give off black cat, introvert, loner, emo vibes at first glance but i am the total opposite. I WILL BECOME UR BEST FRIEND IN LIKE THE SPAN OF A MINUTE
Even though im more extroverted, and energetic, im sort of a calm person tbh. The perfect person to go to if you wanna have fun or just calm down!
I actually like being more educated on true crime, reding them.. That stuff.. It usually just ends up in me being more uhhmm dead inside tbh😭
I AM THE BULLYING TARGET 4 ALL OF MY FRIENDS PLZ HELP😔😔
I give people the weirdest nicknames, and they do too - like.. "Goldfish" "voodoo doll seller" "kulangot at boga seller" there are weirder stuff but atp it would just become a whole 29739373837386383937392729 word essay😟😟
I adopt introverts, and become their bestie, so we sorta just become the sun and moon trope😭
Anyways,, im just gonna tell u my type now😍😍 beware since this is gonna be long (i have like 17 crushes who are all the different person with waaay different personalities)
INTROVERTS NA SUPER SOBRA ULTRA CUTE GWAPO POGI GANDA AUGGGHGH LOVE THEM SOOO MUCH THEY MAKE MY HEART BEAT 100x FASTER❤❤
ppl with the same vibe as me. Me and that other person r gonna be commiting arson probably /jj
Confident ppl that give of "gege ml boy who plays basketball for a living"
INTROVERTS W/ THE SAME INTEREST AS ME💯💯
Practically all of my best friends (im besties with everyone in my school ahahahhaha....)
hopefully i didnt take up too much of ur time and that the reqs dont close after i just typed this😔😔 TYSM HWIAH THANKYU BE MY FRIEND PO IM COOL I SWEAR‼️🤞
Lol oh my- waking up to this was a great surprise, you seem very cool so I hope I see you around ‼️‼️
Anyways, I match you up with...
Rook Hunt!
Through your request, I was getting the vibe that you were hoping for someone who was introverted but I feel like an extrovert would be much better to match you up with! Rook at first would totally fall for your mask of being a loner and ngl like wet cat energy. I'm not sure about you but I'm 100% sure that Rook has talked to everyone on the NRC campus at least once. So, it was to his surprise how you seemed to be didn't match how you acted at all!
Also regarding weird name names he'll give you one back in return! Besides Floyd he wouldn't expect anyone to give him a weird nickname so when you gave him a nickname he gave you the nickname Madame/Monsieur Renard(e) which means fox in french!
Also, be prepared for him to break out the french and compliment you in french. "Je t'adore" "Tu regarde magnifique aujourd'hui" Although they seem such general pharses he means everything he says.
If you didn't know this man's family is r i c h- He has villa's in every kingdom of Twisted Wonderland, I doubt he's as rich as Kalim, Idia or Vil but he still probably has a pretty penny or two to spend. Anything within reason he'd buy for you!
Videogames? Rook would probably try to play a couple just for you but as he would say it "How about we switch it up and go to chasse (hunt)"
Overall, Rook matches your energy. Plus he'd do anything to make you happy. He's always one step ahead of you and is always ready to help you, all you have to give him is your love and he'll reciprocate it tenfold.
Runner-Up
Idia Shroud
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me when. me wenw wehen . me when wen mont.en. wehen mtony . when monty writes about love
(pay for my tissues)
not only does monty write abt love, but it's so CAPTIVATING!!!!!!!!! everything in me is sooooooo tender and and and and soft and just 😭😭😭 this very much brings me back to the feelings i held onto during high school. like. how to explain this. the feelings that were so much and had nowhere to go but trickle out when i was hopeful, that would exist inside me and then those feelings would steep and leak out and would just make everything so painfully nostalgically sweet
It had been pure luck that Tooru and Hajime managed to synchronise their brief visit home in the first place. You think that they might’ve even conspired to match their flight times as close as humanly possible, just so they could find one another in the airport upon arrival.
^ LIKE. SMTH ABT THIS PARAGRAPH HAD ME TEARING UP ALREADY!!!! IT'S LIKE. LIKE. BEING PHYSICALLY APART FROM UR FRIENDS BUT ALWAYS STAYING CLOSE. THE INTIMACY OF THIS, WHICH, LIKE THE FACT THAT IT HAPPENED WAS LIKE A KISS FROM LADY LUCK!!!!!!!!!!! words r so hard but it's like. somehow lining up the lives of ppl u love and trust and care for so EFFORTLESSLY!!! thats what gets me !!!!
and when ur reading this, u can FEEL each character as if they were written in canon. idk the way u describe iwaizumi--like, the significance of him suggesting that trip, and then reader being the one to follow thru. idk thats my hq canon. godbless.
With both his and Tooru’s upcoming departures you had fully expected to be inundated with their company—savouring the remaining time you had left, never quite touching on the topic, still too tender for the three of you. It surprised you. A trip felt final. Another last hurrah. The tying of loose ends, to separate on a good note.
^ THIS PARAGRAPH MADE ME TEAR UP JUST READING IT WHEN I COPY-PASTED IT IN HERE (:AGONY:, BUT LIKE. THE GOOD KIND)!!!! ITS LIKE. this is smth i think many ppl have gone thru when they have friends that move away--it's exactly what i felt when i went on a trip w some hs friends before 1 of them moved across the country. it's a subject thats tender and raw and bittersweet because going on a trip to celebrate it, even quietly, makes the departure feel so much more real!!!! and seeing those emotions put into a fic.... ough.... be still my bleeding heart 🥺🥺🥹🥹
(and side note those MUSCLES.... bites lip.... 1 chomp pls iwaizumi)
and and . and 😭🥺😭🥺 and reader's relationship w the other 3. i will. CRY (<- already been crying) i love the casual intimacy i love the closeness and banter i LOVE the moment where oikawa kisses reader and it's like "ur heart doesnt flutter" bc its casual platonic intimacy and man i wish that were me. 😔😔😔 reader feels like their pal, their guy(gn), their precious friend!!! and they feel just as if not more precious to reader. u cant help but root for them thru this entire thing, holding ur breath with them, cheering them on, crying when they cry. like. GAH. all these emotions r so visceral
From the minute you met there’d always been something there. Maybe it was pheromonic, the way you know something is right the instant you find it; or maybe it was the chubby, six year old hands that plucked the cicada shell from your hair one summer morning. Presque vu, years spent waiting on the tip of your tongue. It doesn’t escape you that this might be the last chance to do anything about it.
^ not me having to google presque vu but pluck more bugs from my hair and eat my heart iwaizumi!!!!! i wuld do anything 4 u !!!!!!! GAAAAAAARGAHRGAHRGAHRGAHRGAHRGAHRGAHHHH !!!!!!!!! and that last line rly makes u feel a sense of desperation and urgency!! coaxing urself to address this thing uve been feeling and!!! WEEPING AGAIN!!!
i want to be sandwiched in a car w them 😔 they r just 1 big happy family to me!!!! with ofc reader and iwaizumi being the only reasonable ppl around LMAO /j /lh
Heading west out of Tokyo toward the Chuo Expressway, it isn’t until a passenger window is opened and a gust billows into the car that you shake the final dregs of sleep. Tooru’s hair is whipping in the wind as Hajime reaches for the radio and switches channels, bass vibrating through the speakers.
^ speaking of which, i loved this part just bc of the way it makes u feel like ur in the car w them. like ur experiencing the roadtrip again thru a scrapbook or diary and it's just!!! shaking off the early morning rush and settling into the excitement of a roadtrip w ur friends..,,, EEEEEK!! imagining a movie montage w some pumpy upbeat music as they zoom on da freeway 😌😌😌
You watch his reflection in the rear view mirror, admiring the soft crinkles by his eyes. His mouth isn’t visible but you know he’s smiling. Issei bumps his knee into yours—again. Simultaneously, Tooru bends make quiet kissing noises against your ear. Swatting them isn’t justice enough, and threatening to throw them out of the moving vehicle only makes them snicker.
^ THIS MADE ME GIGGLE AND KICK MY FEET AJHDSFJHDSFJ idk ur friends knowing abt ur crush on someone is always the same LMFAO theyre little shits abt it but it comes from a place of love. they can see u admiring the person u like before u even notice what ur doing !!! embarassgin!! !! but i love them!!!
This is your Hajime, the one you’ve always known; only now there’s stubble lining his jaw.
^ THE CASUAL TOUCHING... I NEED IT
and the fact that theyve grown so much from summer and those cicaida shells but hes still reader's hajime!!!! AGONKNEEEEE!!!!!! /POS BC ITS LIKE THAT SAYING "even after everything its still u" ITS STILL HIM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA hes still hajime hes just got some facial hair 🥺🥺🥺 and the fact that he blushes so easily when reader compliments him. hehe. (talking to iwaizumi) i know what u are... (in love) 🫵🫵
AND THAT WHOLE SCENE ABT IWAIZUMI GETTING ON ONE KNEE AAAHRJRKHUAJDUASHHWHADJKFHSIDFRIUHDSJKFHR
AND READER BEING SO CLUELESS LMAOOOO for all their overthinking they are a little dummy /aff 😌😌😌😌 but the fact that they probs didnt think of it bc they hadnt considered that iwaizumi likes them back... 😔😔 feels bad man... good thing they got there eventually LMAO ✨💖💕 THEIR HEARTS WERE SO CLOSE IN THIS MOMENT BUT THEY DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT !!!!!! AGONKNEE!!!!!!!
AND!!!!!!! THE PIC THAT HANAMAKI GETS OF READER AND IWAIZUMI 🥺🥹🥺🥹🥺 AAAAAAARGHAHHGHHAAAAA!!!!!!! reader and their boys..... i miss them already (<- just finished reading) and like. idk. the way that reader is enjoying this time even tho theyre anxious abt the future when iwaizumi and oikawa leave... 😔😔😔 WEEPING AGAIN!!!!!!!
i did get a good laugh when oikawa used his charm on the receptionist LMFAOOO, using his good looks for justice. thank u great king 🫡🫡🫡 and its like. even tho oikawa got those updares for them the fact that they all basically sleep in a pile anyways. lmao. love them sm,,,
and the way they love reader too 🥺🥺 THEY WANT THE BEST FOR READER EVEN IF THEYRE PUSHY ABT IT AND THEY LISTEN TO READERS WORRIES AND TELL THEM 'ur bein silly abt this' IN A LOVING WAY... GAAAAAAHHH.... it makes me want 😔 i want to be in a dog pile w them. just maybe not at the very bottom bc they will crush me LMAO
^ on that note tho, i thot it was interesting how oikawa pushed reader a little more. bc he and oikawa are close bffs so like. idk ofc it makes sense that oikawa knows iwaizumi like the back of his hand (oh lala) and he's a little fiercer but no less loving in his encouragement of reader. i was preparing for him to psychoanalyze them over the chip section or smth LMAOOOO
“Tooru,” you say. He makes an inquisitive noise, his nose wrinkled as he rummages through the deep fried snacks. “Being rejected and watching you two leave again—I can’t do both”.
^ PAY FOR MY TISSUES, MONTEE
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!
BC LIKE. BC. BC BC BC OIKAWA AND IWAIZUMI LEAVING IS ALREADY HARD ENOUGH AND EVEN THO THEYRE HAVING FUN!!!! AS I SAID!!!!!!! ITS ALWAYS GOING TO BE IN A CORNER OF THEIR MINDS AND !!!!! AND MAYBE THEY FEEL A LIL TRAPPED, A LIL OVERWHELMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AGONKNEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! and !!! and theyre finally in a private-ish spot where they can talk abt it 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and that in of itself kinda makes it a lil more raw and scary!!
That while you were desperate to make it hospitable, desirable, to be a person Hajime could want, he had managed to blindly pivot around it his whole life.
^ pay for my tissues 2: electric boogerloo
i can only imagine that oikawa was just. mere moments from simply grabbing reader by the shoulders and shaking them n being like "OFC IWA-CHAN LOVES U HOW CAN HE NOT" sjdfhsdj clinging to ur leg montee HOLD ME HOLD ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the love between these 5 idiots (/aff) is so plain and obvious and precious :((( i love them sm
also reader trying not to stare at iwaizumis chest lmao. felt. AND HIM FEEDING READER FROM HIS OWN CHOPSTICKS??? GOING 2 EAT MY FECKING HAND!!!! /POS
People found your group dynamic odd no matter how much you tried to articulate it to them. You think in the end, it boiled down to trust. To safety. They all loved you in their own, individual ways, as you loved them. Maybe that's how you'd managed to be so content with Hajime's friendship. It had been enough.
^ eatign my haend /pos i just ... i just i just i just..... it doesnt have to make sense to everyone else as long as it makes sense to each other, and thats what makes it so special!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 GAHHHH
AND THEN. AND THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! there was only ONE FUTON!!!!!! (and its the one iwaizumi is in!!!!!!!!!!) AAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAA SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGE LET ME IN LET ME IN!!!!!!!!!!!!! IWAIZUMI U LITTLE SHIT I LOVE U IM GOING TO BITE U!!!!! U KNEW WHAT U WERE DOING!!!!!!!! WEEPING IM WEEPING IM CRYING !!! and thinking abt the similar times when they slept beside each other as children!!! but now its ... its more !!!!!!!!!! iwaizumi petting reader's back what if i chew my ankle off..., aaaaAAAAAAAAAA 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
ALL THE WAYS TO SAY 'I LOVE YOU'!!!!!
tears PISSING from my eyes dont look at me.
and then omg ofc,,, ofc,,, iwaizumi telling reader they look good!!!!! WEEPS... AND THE . THE !!! THE THIS!!!
“You two should go and find somewhere to sit,” Tooru insists, shaking his finger from Hajime to you, “We’ll go grab some more food and join you later”. Hajime levels him with a flat look. “All three of you are needed for that?” “Yes,” Tooru smiles back, an intensity to his expression. You shift your weight from left foot to right, waiting with bated breath.
^ oh my gah... OH MY GAH!!!!!!! i was holding my breath while this was happening bc i was like omgggg what if !! what if he POINTS IT OUT!!!! omg i WAS reader in this scene BEING SO ANXIOUS AAAAAA BC when u. when u like someone and ur friends know abt it and do stuff like this it can feel SO obvious. it can feel so awkward and obvious and scary... but thank god for iwaizumi being who he is LMAO...
(thru incoherent sobbing) AN D THN. THEN. AND THEN THE CONFESSION SCENE oh my GOD i burst into tears they were PISSING FROM ME EYES LIKE U WOULDNT BELIEVE!!!!!! READER U ARE SO BRAVE AND LOVABLE GAAAAAH !!! GAAAH..,, THEIR RAMBLING ... THEIR CONFESSION.... LAYING THEMSELVES OUT LIKE THAT PHEWWWWW ... PHEEEWWWWWWW...
and omg iwaizumi's silence RRAAAGAGHHHHHH DONT LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THAT SJDHFKDSJH !!!! but side note its so silly(/lh) to me that reader was thinking maybe iwaizumi was gonna be like "sorry i dont feel the same way" after he tried to suck their face off SDKJFHSKDJFHDSJK /LH /AFF LMAOOOO idk <333 smooching them. iwaizumi move aside or smh.
"I love you too. Not sure if there was ever a time that I didn’t,"
dont lOOK AT ME DONT NO ONE LOOK AT ME !!!!!!! im going to . EAT MY FOOT!!!!!!!!
and then they BANG and its TENDER and LOVING and FULFILLING EMOTIONALLY SPIRITUALLY PHYSICALLY GAAHHHHHHH . iwaizumi WOULD be good at eating thussy thats canon . these bitches r so in love and i love that 4 them,,, weeps.... and the fact that reader looked up the distance to california :(((( on god thats some loverboy(gn) shit /pos
monty ... i am holding yer face in me hands... kissing u on da cheek so tenderly ... i am so glad i finally had the time to read this and respond... weeps cries... i loved every second of it 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i always will 💖💕
AN OBSERVER OF LONGING ┊ IWAIZUMI HAJIME
synopsis: with a few days remaining, the five of you run from Tooru and Hajime's impending departure for a little longer—and tackle some unearthed feelings along the way.
tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, childhood best friends to lovers, romantic + sexual tension, mutual pining, a lot of casual physical affection, sharing a bed, angst + fluff, masturbation, festivals, alcohol consumption (everyone) + smoking (makki), yay love confessions, emotional hurt/comfort, eventual smut, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (reader rec.)
wc: 18K
↳ written in three days while in my feels and on new medication: for the komorebi collab hosted by yours truly lmao ↰
Like most impulsive plans it stemmed from a tipsy throwaway comment. Ruddy cheeks, the warm, honey tinge of whiskey on his breath, Hajime’s lips came loose.
“We should go somewhere together,” he’d said, ensconced by the booth cushions. Your gaze met meaningfully across the table, half lidded and dopey. Even as Issei’s arm wrestled its way around his neck and jostled him, wrangled him closer with the promise of teasing, Hajime had not looked away from you.
“Oh! Let’s rent a little bus, like in the movies. That’s a cute idea,” Tooru enthused, inflection slurred by the warmth of his liquor. “Hajime, who knew you could be so cute?”
“Hajime has always been cute,” Issei drawled, eyes gleaming as his knuckles successfully rub back and forth over Hajime’s skull, even as the man squirms against it. “But you’re both leaving again soon. We can’t go far, or for long”.
It had been pure luck that Tooru and Hajime managed to synchronise their brief visit home in the first place. You think that they might’ve even conspired to match their flight times as close as humanly possible, just so they could find one another in the airport upon arrival.
“Now look. Poor ‘kawa,” Takahiro strummed his finger over Tooru’s puckered bottom lip, pink and plush as it bounces back. “Quick. Tell him he’s cuter before he starts crying”.
And the drink-addled idea passed. You, however, let the thought marinate in the morning that followed. Knowing that it was Hajime who suggested it felt significant. He’s the quiet sentimental type. With both his and Tooru’s upcoming departures you had fully expected to be inundated with their company—savouring the remaining time you had left, never quite touching on the topic, still too tender for the three of you. It surprised you. A trip felt final. Another last hurrah. The tying of loose ends, to separate on a good note.
Ultimately you decided to forward a link to an article detailing different overnight itineraries and festivals to the group chat with hopes of bringing it to fruition. Now you found yourself standing beside Hajime’s car under an early eventide in a pair of old sweatpants too long at the ankle and listening to them bicker, wondering why you ever got the ball rolling.
Phone, check. Keys, check. ID, check. Wallet, check. Overnight bag—
You glare down at the offending object propped on the ground beside your feet. A good twenty minutes of your frantic afternoon had been spent trying to zip the thing shut. Check.
“But Hajime, the otter cafe!”
Tooru yelps, and you glance up in time to watch as Iwaizumi jostles and loosens his grip, “No. We don’t have time. We’re sticking to the plan".
“Are those even ethical?” Issei wonders under his breath, bending at your side to lift the case and ignoring your weak protests. It’s handed off to Hajime with ease, and you allow yourself a brief appreciative glimpse of the muscle flexing under his fitted shirt.
You shake your head, full of mirth as you call to him, “Tooru”.
The sinking sun is crowning his head in a dewy flare. Tooru looks up from Hajime’s back and the halo slips, highlighting the hidden wispy strands of ginger by his temples. Balmed lips pouted, his brow arched in question.
“Stop fussing and sit with me”.
The curiosity smooths out and he looks increasingly pleased at the request. It lasts a few sweet moments, broken by the smug uptick of his mouth. Tooru grins, “Of course you want to sit next to me. I’m your favourite after all”.
Years of repetitive back and forth taught you that arguing that point was futile. With a fond eye roll, you reach across in his approach to pinch at his bicep. “Just get in the car before I change my mind,” you say.
You duck in to sit beside Tooru while he scrambles for the window seat. Hajime is angled toward you while he fiddles with the centre console, a muscled arm wrapped around the headrest, deliberately waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you do, he mouths the words, “Thank you”.
From the minute you met there’d always been something there. Maybe it was pheromonic, the way you know something is right the instant you find it; or maybe it was the chubby, six year old hands that plucked the cicada shell from your hair one summer morning. Presque vu, years spent waiting on the tip of your tongue. It doesn’t escape you that this might be the last chance to do anything about it.
You’re shaken from your reverie when the car rocks on its axles. Issei throws himself into the far right passenger seat beside you with a heavy sigh. Broad shoulders push you closer into Tooru, thighs pressed together and feet parted awkwardly on either side of the rear suspension.
Takahiro excitedly clambers in the front with an energy drink in hand, uncapped, earning an indignant shout from Hajime when he slams the door with too much force.
“Oi—!”
You grin as he struggles to dodge Hajime’s successive smacks. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry, be nice!”
“I told you already, it's my dad’s car. That means no tracking dirt, no spilling anything, and no smoking inside. Capiche?”
“Aye-aye,” Issei drones, knuckles grazing your hip where he fastens his seatbelt. There is little space, yet it is oddly comforting. Tooru snorts, slumping until a head of unkempt brown hair rests heavily against your shoulder, tilting briefly to nuzzle your jaw.
The radio switches on automatically as the engine starts, an initial splutter tapering off into a gentle hum. You reciprocate Tooru’s affection and rub your cheek over his crown, inhaling the familiar scent of coconut milk shampoo. He takes your weight without complaint, and when Issei leans forward to receive a sip of Takahiro’s energy drink, your knees knock together.
Hakone was the chosen destination, thanks to a local festival taking place tomorrow. Of the five of you, Hajime is the best driver in terms of navigation and road knowledge. Issei is a close second. Both Tooru and Takahiro got their licences for the sake of convenience, but you doubt they could make their way around a clockwise roundabout without crying.
Takahiro whoops, his hand thudding in line with the beat on the car roof, “Road trip, baby!”
The scenery becomes less and less familiar, turning onto streets you do not recognise. Heading west out of Tokyo toward the Chuo Expressway, it isn’t until a passenger window is opened and a gust billows into the car that you shake the final dregs of sleep. Tooru’s hair is whipping in the wind as Hajime reaches for the radio and switches channels, bass vibrating through the speakers.
Reality sets in like a slow simmer and excitement buzzes under your skin as the giddiness swells. You lean forward, cheek squashed unflatteringly to the back of the driver's seat, and paw at Hajime’s arm.
“Turn it up, Haji”.
Above the road ahead is a large blue sign detailing directions to Lake Kawaguchi—a purposeful detour, for the sake of acting like tourists. There’s a spot with a perfect view of Mount Fuji. Despite having lived only a forty minute ride from Tokyo, you can’t say you’d ever thought to look at it outside of a postcard.
It’s nice to step into the shoes of another. View the country through a less acclimated lense. You’re taken through winding roads that thread between verdant mountains; entrenched by nature, only to be thrown out into the open as the foliage breaks.
Lake Kawaguchi greets you brightly, the sunset surface glittering across a vast horizon. You are yelling harmoniously with Takahiro as it comes into view. Issei’s phone is already pressed against the window, scenery rolling across the camera screen as he repeatedly taps his thumb to recalibrate the focus.
“I can hear you laughing at me,” he casts a suspicious look over his shoulder.
You grin, “You’re such an old man”.
“We’ll park just up here. There’s a good spot for pictures down by the bank,” Hajime says, the heel of his hand flat to the wheel as it turns left. “Not too far to walk. Pretty sure there’s a cafe just nearby, too”.
You watch his reflection in the rear view mirror, admiring the soft crinkles by his eyes. His mouth isn’t visible but you know he’s smiling. Issei bumps his knee into yours—again. Simultaneously, Tooru bends make quiet kissing noises against your ear. Swatting them isn’t justice enough, and threatening to throw them out of the moving vehicle only makes them snicker.
The car park is entirely deserted and unmonitored, surrounded by brush. No line markings or need for payment, just a part of the ground carved out and filled with gravel that crunches beneath the tires as it displaces. Cruising toward the far end of the lot, Hajime chooses the spot right by an old staircase that appears to lead down the bank.
He pulls the handbrake with a resounding click and shuts off the engine. Comfortable silence befalls you as the radio cuts out. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline, and as Issei popped open his car door, those first few notes bloomed into many more.
You climb out and step onto the uneven ground, the crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. You reach up and rub at them, running your palms over your cheeks in hopes of warmth. It isn’t cold—just refreshing. Cool enough to feel it in your sinuses when you breathe.
“Come on,” Tooru whines. He’s already stood by the railing, weight shifting restlessly between his feet. You smile at the bounce of his hair, frame outlined in darkening sunlight, breaking through the curls like a canopy.
An arm snakes loosely around your back and Hajime pulls you into his embrace. You fall in line with him, his pace purposefully slowed to remain at your side. He guides you forward, and once you’re close enough, the others begin to descend the staircase.
You hear Issei whistle. Glancing up from the final step, you’re met with a watercolour come to life. Open skies, there lay smudges of orange, red and pink. No telling up from down. The surface of the lake is completely still, reflecting a perfect mirror view of Mount Fuji.
“Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Hajime hums in agreement, awe bleeding into the sound. Tooru is crouched near the water, struck with wonder, idly swirling his fingertips over the surface as Takahiro and Issei station either side of him, the pair deep in thought.
Dragging your eyes from the picturesque view, you take in the emotion on Hajime’s face. People always claimed him to be intimidating—he could be, without question. But to you, Hajime was made up entirely of soft lines, deliberate kindness and telegraphed movements, as though he were a gentle giant, despite being the shortest of the four players.
He still carries some chub in his cheeks. You know, because you’re often inundated with the urge to pinch at it. This is your Hajime, the one you’ve always known; only now there’s stubble lining his jaw.
“It’s grown back again already,” you comment sotto voce, careful not to disturb the pensive atmosphere that has settled by the lakes edge. “You really are a big boy now”.
“It’s annoying”.
“Looks good though,” you muse. “Kinda rugged. I like it”.
His throat flexes as he swallows, hand coming up to itch his jawline, and you try not to stare. It’s always so easy to turn him pink. “You do?”
Too much, you think, poking the swell of his cheek in lieu of a response. It yields under the pressure, and as he smiles it takes on the appearance of a dimple.
Casual affection was second nature, now. You found yourself thankful for the excuse to touch, and knowing that he’ll be leaving soon has emboldened you somewhat. All those years ago you’d preemptively decided that crossing the threshold would lead to rejection, but the initial borders defining your relationship have long since blurred, and it’s hard not to wonder where you truly stand. If you got it right.
“Guys,” Takahiro demands your attention, hand cupped by his mouth with a lit cigarette held precariously between his fingers. The other is in the air waving his phone back and forth. “We’re here to marvel at the miracles of mother nature, not each other!”
You step out of Hajime’s embrace, disguising your reluctance.
Joining their lanky huddle rewards you with a chorus of cheers as Tooru latches on to your back and props his chin atop your shoulder. He flashes an effortless peace sign. The others attempt to fit themselves into the frame mirrored on Hanamaki’s phone screen, an iridescent crack running from one corner to the other, Mount Fuji’s blushing snowy peaks crowning your heads.
“You really gotta get that fixed,” you hear someone say. Their voice is muffled, as if they’d been talking with their lips closed, and one glimpse finds Issei trying resolutely to keep his posed smirk in place. Your own mouth flattens into a thin line to keep yourself from laughing.
The camera shutters.
You groan, “I wasn’t ready for that one”.
A few more are taken and sent to the group chat, eyes on you while you set a particularly sweet one as your wallpaper. Crowing with delight, you find yourself surrounded by bodies and squeezed in a firm group hug.
“Alright, alright,” you huff. The discomfort stems more from the insistent, cramping sensation in your stomach. Your smaller hands meet a hard, muscled abdomen, pushing fruitlessly. Neither man budges. If anything, your resistance only encourages them to coil tighter. “You’re all too heavy. Get off!”
They relent, but only at the sound of your gut rumbling. “Hungry?” Hajime asks. The sheathing sun reflects in his irises, burning bright, verdant green, as though he were part of spring itself; soft in apology.
“Food is that way,” Issei points out. “Looks like it’s open. Maybe”.
There’s a stout, cosy structure further along, tucked atop the edge of a hill and half hidden by a cradle of Japanese maple. If you squint you could make out the moving silhouettes inside.
Tooru cranes his neck, lips comically pursed as he looks toward the cafe. “It’s pretty romantic. If we have Hajime get on one knee out here for a picture, think they’ll give us a free meal?”
Hajime shoves him half heartedly and clicks his tongue, “Why me? Do it yourself”.
You watch as they share a long, unspoken moment, conversing without words. Tooru offers him a scathing look, one of total incredulity and that alone is enough to break the suspension. Hajime juts his chin in the opposite direction and turns his back, beginning a stiff march toward the cafe.
“What was that all about?”
“He’s so bullheaded,” Tooru muses, knuckles rapping gently to your skull as he passes. When you are offered nothing but a fond laugh in the face of your confusion, you stalk off after them.
Petulance has you speeding ahead of the group, further picking up the pace at the sound of hurried feet. The natural instinct to run nips at your heels. As the earth begins to incline upward and your strides broaden, there’s a burn in the back of your thighs that Takahiro seems to have no issue with, if his sudden sprint ahead has anything to say about it.
“Last one there has to pay!”
“Bastard,” Issei hollers from the back, refusing to run and carried by his heavy gait. “Just because you’re unemployed!”
Your lungs are burning with the exertion, laughter coming in short bursts. Issei remains in last, Tooru second, Hajime fourth. From the terrace, Takahiro pieces his thumb and forefinger together into the shape of a heart, nowhere close to apologetic. “Buy me something and I’ll give you a big wet kiss,” he returned in a singsong voice.
Issei lumbers through the gate, movements broad and slow. His brow arches, Takahiro immediately losing bravado. “You’d do that for free”.
“Get me out of here,” Hajime mutters. “Kill me”.
You take pity on him and herd them all through the doors, “Less flirting and more pastries, please”.
Inside is painted in rich deep browns. The fresh air weaves well with the aroma of freshly baked goods. You breathe it in, your hands dancing over shelves sparsely stocked with baskets of flatbread, loaves and cakes. While quaint, the ceilings are high, held up by large beams on which decorative lights and plants are carefully draped.
You feel slightly awkward and out of place in your shabby old sweatpants. A calming melody is playing overhead. Soft spoken voices belonging to the few employees and fewer patrons encourage you to lower your own into a whisper.
Hajime subtly leans down to listen as you say, “I think we should get our food to go”.
He hides his amusement against your shoulder and you accept the brief weight with a grin. Then you feel him nod in agreement.
Issei holds his hand out when you reach the counter. There are already multiple paper bags tucked under his arm. “Give me the goods before I change my mind,” he says, exasperation set plain on his face.
“Thank you Issei,” you recite like a child, pressing two sweet rolls shaped like a cornet into his palm. Hajime chooses comfort—curry bread. Shared on countless late night walks home; the memories stir something melancholic deep within your chest that you’d rather not examine right now.
Your initial concern about being out of place were not entirely unfounded. The employee behind the register greets your group kindly enough, and her smile is genuine, but you cannot ignore how her eyes seem to flicker back and forth to the disgruntled customers seated by the terrace.
If you had to guess, they were regulars. Retired elders that lived nearby and had the privilege to spend their evenings here. Though irritating, you are honest enough to admit that your gaggle of idiots would certainly fracture this place’s peaceful ambiance. So Issei pays, feigning nonchalance at the long, wet kiss Takahiro leaves on his cheek, and you trudge back to the car with food in hand.
Tooru ambles around to the front passenger seat, hip checking Takahiro toward the back where he previously sat. You knew he might do this at some point during the trip. Eating before a car ride made him prone to nausea, and since he was young he’d claimed sitting in the front helped. Anpan held between his teeth, Tooru peers at you through the headrests and smiles with his eyes, entirely too pleased.
Takahiro nudges your side as he clambers in. Lifting your hips, he buckles the seatbelt, and soon after you are half-draped over his lap to allow Issei to do the same. You glare at him as he wiggles his eyebrows, stopping short when he flashes you his phone. There’s a picture, this time of you and Hajime at the lake curled into each other; you’re cradled by his arms, and he by the mountainside, entirely in your own world.
You relent, “Send me it”.
“As I thought,” he mutters smugly.
The lake is rarely out of view. Heading south to Hakone, the road hugs the water for most of the journey. Tooru connects his carefully curated road trip playlist to the speakers and the car swells with an old city jpop song. You pick at your sweet rolls, barely humming along; choking on feelings left to fester in your throat, unacknowledged and unspoken.
You remember the day they told you their goals for the future. Plans to leave. Together, across from you, hands wrung in their laps. Grief filled your body like lead, and you recall thinking to yourself, half-hysterically, ‘How can I do this alone?’
That was a time in your life you couldn’t imagine a world without Tooru or Hajime in it. Day in, day out, seasons passed side by side. Three small stars converging on the same path. It never needed to be clarified—all plans were made with the tacit promise of being together. The unwillingness to part pulled even your families along and you were hard pressed to recall a first New Year shrine visit without their relatives present. Until they decided to leave.
It’s loneliness tinged with a smidgen of guilt. You’re not truly alone. Issei and Takahiro are some of your best friends, and they weren’t going anywhere far anytime soon. Still, you can’t help but brace for the ways your orbit will further unfurl in Hajime and Tooru’s absence when they return to their lives.
Hakone is a town tucked away in the shadow of Fuji-Hakone-Izu national park. Long, mountainous roads lead you toward an expanding vista. Faces sun drenched in varying hues of red maple, pink blossom and youthful green. The next hour and a half passes in the blink of an eye and the destination closes in. You angle your head, stretching across Takahiro’s lap and squinting up to make out the shape of ropeways cutting across the burgeoning sky. Tiny, far off carriers glide along the cables.
Something about it compels everyone to stop and take a breath. You lapse into pleasant silence. The car slows to cruise through the busy streets, music lowered into a faint buzz. It is larger than life.
While advertised as a quaint getaway from the chaotic, fast paced lifestyle of Tokyo, in actuality Hakone is made up of seven separate villages, each with its own distinct history. Lush hills crowned with cumulus clouds of smoke from the hot springs; young families standing beneath grand, crimson painted torii gates; vendors sheltered from the sun by conical straw hats tied beneath their chins with silk.
To get to Gora, you must first cut through Yumoto—a lively, compact area lined with shops and restaurants that have attracted an uncomfortable amount of foot traffic. Hajime drives with his body strung tight, knuckles losing colour as yet another tourist almost walks out in front of his car.
“Almost there, man,” Issei offers sympathetically.
Hajime grunts, “Don’t talk to me”.
Tooru is too preoccupied with taking pictures to notice his best friend's struggles. The small noises of awe only seem to push Hajime’s shoulders higher. You have to duck away from the rear view mirror and bite your inner cheek so as not to laugh.
Eventually, the place you’ll be staying at comes into view. You all release a collective sigh of relief. The modernised ryokan is much larger than most family run facilities. It sits conspicuously on the end of a private road, concealed by forest and threadbare canopy that casts shadows across the windshield as the car pulls in, sliding effortlessly into one of the empty spaces.
Four staff members adorning pastel yukata’s greet you by the wide genkan with a deep bow. The woman standing behind the reception desk mirrors them when she meets your eye. You’re offered a pair of new grey slippers and gently ushered out into the lobby with your outdoor shoes in hand while Hajime heads to check in.
When he rejoins the group his expression is distinctly uncomfortable and pinched in a way you recognise as embarrassment.
“There’s been a mix up with the room—suite, I guess,” Hajime admits. Hesitant, his gaze drags up from the floor to where you’re standing beside him. “I showed her the booking but no dice. We’re stuck with a tatami room and bathroom, but she promised there’d be enough futons to roll out”.
While it was last minute they’d all designated tasks to each other, and his task had been booking accommodations. Having expressed that he would make the effort to get you your own room for the sake of privacy and comfortability, despite your protests, you understood his immediate reaction. Letting people down—at least, his own arbitrary idea of it—never sat right with Hajime.
“Let me go talk to her, Iwa-chan. I might even charm her into giving us some extra amenities,” Tooru grins wolfishly, already fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater. Faint freckles scattered along his forearms, some newer from the summer months. Tendons flexing with determination, he takes the proffered print out and saunters toward the counter.
“I can be charming,” Hajime mutters childishly, shucking the cross bag higher up his shoulder. He frowns you. “Am I charming?”
You pat his cheek. His pride always rears over the most obscure things. “In your own way”.
Takahiro voices his amusement with a heavy clap to Hajime’s back. “Yeah, man. You appeal to people’s baser instincts. Makes me wanna get knocked up in a cave and nap while you’re out hunting for boar, or something”.
“Shut up, idiot”.
Tooru leaned his body against the counter, closed the distance and tilted his head, a coy sequence you’ve paid witness to a thousand times. You can imagine how he’s holding the receptionist's attention, speaking in low, dulcet tones that slide through her like warm butter.
“What a bastard,” Issei sighs. Hajime grunts his agreement, and you realise that the four of you are lined up, watching them unashamedly as if it were a piece of theatre.
“Alright, weirdos. Move it,” you prod insistently at Takahiro’s waist, snickering when he flinches away from your fingers. “Stop staring and get your bags together so we’re ready”.
“You sure are confident in him,” Issei smirks, picking up his luggage nonetheless. There’s a loud click as you extend your suitcase handle, pulling with force when it jams halfway.
“You’re not? It’s Tooru—” your voice abruptly halts at the heat of another, their hand encompassing your own. Hajime relinquishes your grip and readjusts the handle without fanfare. Flustered, you clear your throat, “He always pulls through for us. Though I still think this is all a bit unnecessary”.
“I, for one, am glad he’s with us and not against us,” Takahiro snorts, eyes flitting between the two as Tooru tips his head and laughs. The sound is trim, practised and forced to your own ears, yet manages to make the employee blush. “Kinda scary, isn’t he?”
Unfettered affection pulls at the corner of your mouth. You smile, turning away from them before they can see and tease you for it. Without a doubt, you had missed being with them more than you realised, and the giddiness was hard to temper.
When Tooru returns, it is with a self satisfied grin, a new set of keys and a slip of paper. “That her number?”
“Yep,” his lips pop as he flips it over between his fingers, flashing the numerical digits scrawled on the back before flippantly sticking it in his jacket pocket. “We now have a modern double, a tatami room and a private onsen. Don’t all thank me too quickly, now”.
Hajime accepts the keys with a begrudged sigh. “You should worry about texting and thanking her before we leave”.
“Stop trying to make me a better person,” Tooru sniffed, allowing himself to be herded toward the cramped lift. You trail closely behind, shaking your head.
The room is bigger than expected. Family sized, you’d say. Traditional with a modernised touch; the main tatami room that flowers in the moonlight as it floods in through the sliding lattice doors. Behind it comes the promising sound of running water and after setting all your shoes in the modest genkan—pointed outwards—Takahiro rushes to discover the private onsen.
Hung in a recessed alcove is a silk scroll inscribed with calligraphy. Staggered wall shelves frame a small flatscreen TV, neatly decorated with painted vases and incense. Tucked away in the corner is a closet full of freshly aired futons. The rice straw flooring yields softly under your feet as you explore.
Two other rooms are cordoned off, a smaller tatami room for the futons and one largely taken up by a double bed featuring a western style ensuite bathroom. Tourists must love this place, you think. It offers a palatable amount of Japanese culture, while simultaneously providing them with the simplistic comforts of their own.
Issei makes work of the futons, nudging the low table and cushions into a corner and dragging the blankets over to the other room. Lip worried between your teeth, you find yourself hovering uselessly with no task to attend to aside from unpacking, which you thought to be just as useless.
A hand snakes around your arm. Tooru’s, you soon recognise; impressively soft given his choice of career, lithe, and slightly balmy from a fruity smelling moisturiser his sister gifted him from her travels in South Korea. “Come on,” he insists without explanation, a dramatic weariness about him.
You are guided into the modern room and handed a travel sized torch identical to his own. You flinch away from the bright light as it abruptly begins to blink, but catch on quickly. ”Look everywhere you can think of”.
“What’re you guys doin’ in here?”
Ignoring Takahiro’s question, you bend to flash the torchlight into the plug sockets. As Tooru peeks into the vents—giving the theatrical whisper of “all clear” with every check—you circumvent around the bed, looking under the frame and the nearby closet.
“Makki, stop hovering like a ghost and check the bathroom for cameras. Actually, I’ll do it,” Tooru waves him off dismissively, sleuthing precariously into the small bathroom. “Gotta check the shower head. Can’t have my darling friends showing up on some dark web auction…”
Once Tooru is mollified that there are no hidden cameras the group allow themselves to settle. You are set up in the double room. It is the only door with a lock and a private bathroom, and you suspect that is why it was foisted onto you.
Still you are conscious about the proximity, or lack thereof. Listening to them bicker and scuffle through the walls, their footfalls and voices passing beneath the crack in the bathroom doorway. Your fingers lingered on the turning lock for too long and in the end, you’d left it horizontal. The intense anticipation in your belly culminated into what you recognised as yearning—longing.
The shower can only be described as a transparent box. Aside from a few shallow shelves left to house the complementary body wash, you’re surrounded only by clear, frameless glass panels that do nothing to obscure the view of your naked body. Anyone could walk in at any time. Standing under the warm spray, pressure just right against your shoulders, even as the dense steam fogs up the glass your gaze still falls back to the door handle.
You run a washcloth over your skin and ignore the muted arousal that flares between your thighs. Sounds can be heard over the white noise, muffled by hollow mortar yet still clear enough that the sounds are coalesced into words.
“Get your shoes off my futon,” Hajime demands. Hand braced against wet tile as though to touch the baritone of his voice, the other passes innocently over your sex, and you shudder. Thoughts wander.
Tentative, you slide your fingers through your folds. Massage wet, loose circles around your clit. Eyes fall closed and you dip into your imagination. There’s a firm body behind you, cock grinding tantalisingly slow against your ass. Shaped around your back as though you were an extension of him. Your rhythm stutters when Hajime nuzzles below your ear. Tender kisses forge a path to your shoulder while his hands smooth across a resting stomach toward your chest.
Curtained by hot water as it patters away at the tension in your muscles, droplets slip into the seam of your lips and they part for breath. You lean on the tiled wall, seeking cool relief where the steam starts to overwhelm you, and slip abruptly on the condensation. With an undignified yelp, you quickly find your footing—though not without first knocking over the travel sized bottles of body wash.
Deafening silence follows. You inhale deeply, exhaling to steady your breathing. A hesitant knock to the door gives you pause. The handle remains mournfully upright.
“…You alive in there?”
Your face twists into a grimace as you attempt to recompose yourself. You clear your throat. “I’m fine, Hajime. Sorry. The only thing I’m dying of is embarrassment”.
His short laughter is warm and uninhibited. It rings true in your ears long after he’s gone. Turning away from the spray, your head tips forwards until it thumps against the glass. Shame prickling behind your eyes, you groan, “What the fuck is wrong with me”.
Surprisingly there are no teasing comments awaiting you when you leave the privacy of your room, dried and redressed. All the screen doors have been pulled open, connecting the main room to the spare tatami room where they’ve rolled out all the futons to create one large bed. Five, together. You smile but don’t mention it. Issei greets you with a lazy wave from his place amongst the blankets.
“Makki’s just havin’ a smoke,” his thumb points to the door leading out toward the private onsen. Through the lattice you can make out a blurred silhouette standing on the small veranda.
“The other two?”
“Headed downstairs to ask about the festival tomorrow, and dinner”.
“Are you looking forward to it?” you perk up, kneeling to sit cross legged on one of the beds.
Issei smirks at your enthusiasm and hums an affirmative. Your eyes are drawn to the subtle movements of his hands where they fiddle with the inseam of his jeans. “Yeah. Heard they’re lighting some bonfires”.
Your mouth parts with a sound of recognition. “On the mountainside, right?”
“That's the one,” he nods and bows forward to rest an elbow on his thigh. You straighten up as he pins you under an intense stare. “I can slip away with the guys, if you want. Tomorrow. It would be a good time for you to talk to him”.
Heat prickles over your face. Your pinch your cheek between your teeth, eyes instinctively darting to the hallway. You’re not sure whether it’s his consideration of you or your own piteous transparency that makes you want to cry. It has been this way for years; a tentative dance that never seemed to end. They all know. You wished you could still be ignorant of that.
“Do you…” you clear your throat as your voice cracks. Issei’s gaze softens and you feel naked. “Do you honestly think that’s a good idea?”
After a short, pensive silence, Issei exhales a long breath and lays his hands flat on the futon. He leans into the heel and pushes onto his knees to drop his body heavily beside yours.
You struggle against his weight as he slumps, flinging both arms around your waist. “Issei—!” an aborted yelp falls from your mouth when he hooks his chin over your shoulder and locks his jaw, pressing it into your back.
“Stop! That hurts, bastard!” you squawked, pushing down against the forearm cinched across your middle like a belt. They flex under your hands, not moving an inch. You can feel his cheeks lifting as he grins.
“Sure. When you stop feeling sorry for yourself,” he offers slyly, tightening his grip. You fall slack as the fight bleeds from your body. There’s a familiar burn behind your eyes, closely followed by a swell in your throat that the words can’t quite seem to get around. “And for the record, I do think it’s a good idea”.
“It’s a terrible idea,” you intone flatly, smile fraying at the edges. “He’s leaving again after this, Issei”.
Issei must hear the clear defeat in your voice because he gathers you against his chest to hug you properly. “I know,” he murmurs. You breathe in the light notes of amber lingering on his skin, his big hand splayed between your shoulders.
Then you feel the unmistakable press of a kiss to your crown. “You’re a coward,” your brows knit together as you glare up at him. It's just like Issei to make it sound like you’re fussing over nothing after you’ve spent years building it up in your head. His grin widens, crooked. “But you’re our coward, and we want to see you happy”.
You feel your irritation melt away at his sincerity. A smile curls at the corner of your mouth. The sweet atmosphere is swiftly soured as he adds, “So hurry up and fuck already”.
Takahiro’s return is poorly timed. Shutting the lattice door behind him, he strolls in with scent of tobacco following close behind, “Who’s fucking?”
A wave of embarrassment washes over you. It makes you go hot and cold in quick succession. Issei surrenders and rolls onto his back, cushioned by the futon as you push him away, loud cackles bouncing off the walls.
“Nobody is. Be quiet, the pair of you”.
“Is it about Hajime?” he continues, crouched before you with eyebrows wiggling suggestively. Takahiro jumps backwards with a snicker when you angle your hips to kick at him. The bitter smoky smell is much stronger around his fingers. He grabs your ankle to keep you still but Takahiro’s smug air dissipates in an instant, mouth falling open as you drag him down. “Hey—!”
Issei stays quiet with his arms tucked behind his head, happy to no longer be the target of your ire.
That is the scene Tooru and Hajime returned to only a minute later. Having rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, Makki had accidentally pushed you down into Issei, the three of you tumbling backwards in fits of laughter.
Spurred by the need to be included, Tooru took it upon himself to flop unceremoniously into the pile. Your pained yelp had caused quite a stir, the image of Hajime’s face twisted in worry playing on a loop in your mind.
You inhale deeply and grimace in discomfort. The air is humid here. You can feel it sticky in your lungs, right beneath the fresh bruise blooming across your rib. Tooru’s eyes flicker, caught in the movement as you rub at your sternum. The corners of his lips downturn.
“Sorry again,” he mumbles over the sound of gentle, trickling water from the nearby spring, knocking your elbows together. You’ve strayed toward the back of the group alongside him, his stride slowed to keep pace as you wandered around the low lit gardens to kill time before dinner. Flowers are few, evergreens abundant, stone lanterns guide you forward.
With a forgiving sigh you link your arms to keep him close. Tooru’s rigid posture relaxes as you nuzzle against his bicep. “Nobody died. It’s fine,” you laugh quietly.
“If it were up to Iwa-chan I might’ve”.
You roll your eyes. “I can handle a bit of roughhousing. Grew up with you, didn’t I?”
Tooru’s face is thrown into stark relief as moonlight filters through the canopy, and you watch his small smile scrunch up into a moue. “With my sister you mean,” he says, with a fondness betraying his expression. “What a beast”.
You have vague memories. Downy brunette hair fisted in a small hand. Eyes swollen with tears. A young boy sent to the corner to think about his actions. Tooru always started those fights, not that he would ever admit it. But you knew he was fighting for his older sister’s attention more than anything else at the time.
“Liar. She spoiled you all the time,” you tell him. “And you were as bad as each other”.
Tooru hums, the way he often does when he doesn’t believe you. Your paths converge, misstepping as he sways and you throw his too-innocent act a look of suspicion. “So,” he starts a beat later.
It’s apparent in his eyes. That gleam of curiosity, and hesitance. Bingo. Tooru barely moves as you return your weight to his side and almost veer him onto the grass in protest. “No,” you reply.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“No? Well if it’s not about me confessing to Hajime then please, do carry on”.
Tooru makes a petulant, frustrated noise. There’s an indent in his cheek where the inner flesh is pinched between his teeth. You roll your eyes, scuffing your shoe to the stone path. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to confess now,” you tell him quietly.
“You’re just scared,” Tooru returns under his breath. His expression is solemn now, as is his tone.
“And what if I am?” Your voice raises a bit, rousing the attention of the men up ahead. When they look back you muster a smile and give a reassuring wave. Your attention momentarily drawn to the huddle behind them by the bamboo gate. A small family shuffled by, heads bobbing with gratitude as the boys made room, when their toddler took notice of Takahiro and became appropriately delighted by him.
While the mother spilled panicked apologies and took her daughter's hand, the girl stood on the very tips of her purple jelly sandals and Takahiro bent to let her pat him on the head before departing. Tooru drops the topic with an offended hum as you abandon him to rejoin the group, examining the trim of his nails to feign disinterest, “She only liked you because your hair is pink”.
“Actually it’s strawberry blond,” Takahiro snarks, equally affronted and amused. “Just heavier on the strawberry”.
Their movements coalesce, blindly shuffling after one another back into the hotel lobby. “Should probably head back soon,” Hajime mutters as an afterthought, his gaze trailing wall to wall before landing on the clock hung above the main desk. “Should we buy some drinks and stuff for tonight?”
“I can get it,” you volunteer at the same time that Tooru interjects with, “We’ll go get it”.
You glare at him.
Hajime disapproves. At the very least he’s worried. It’s in the flex of his fingers, the set of his jaw, the earthen eyes narrowed at the pair of you. “Will you be okay together?”
“Yes, Iwa-chan. This isn’t an episode of ‘My First Errand’,” he reaffirms his grip on your arm, giving it a decisive squeeze. “It’s no problem, right? Right”.
“Right,” you say, the decision clearly made for you. You turn your attention from Tooru’s pointed smile back to Hajime and the others. “We’re good. Text us what you want and we’ll bring it up to the room”.
Murmured acquiescence ripples through the group, and Tooru ambles you out through the main entrance as you part ways. Your entwined shadows elongate, the wall mounted sconces leading a path to the small sundry nestled in the east side of the hotel.
“You’re not going to drop this, are you?”
“No”.
“Not even if I say please?”
“No,” Tooru chimes again, tugging you through the automatic doors. The cashier acknowledges your arrival with a quick smile and continues to restock the empty shelf in front of them.
The temperature drops as you turn onto the drinks aisle and Tooru opens the closest fridge while refusing to let go of you. “I just don’t understand why you’re not taking the chance,” he continues, frowning at the bottle labels. When he plucks the umeshu from the rack you know it’s for him. “I don’t want you to regret it”.
“They’re asking for beer and shochu,” you read tiredly from the phone in your free hand. The text chat bumps as another message comes through. “Uh… Issei wants dried calamari. We should get seaweed tempura, too”.
“Stop changing the subject”.
Annoyance sparks in your chest. “This is what we’re here to do,” you grumble, shoving your phone into your pocket and opening the adjacent fridge door with more force than necessary. You shiver at the gust of cool air.
An indolent sigh seeps from him. “C’mon. You have to know,” Tooru murmurs, moving closer to hook his chin over your shoulder. He softly knocks your heads together. “The chances of you being rejected are less than zero”.
“No, I don’t know that. And—even if that’s true, what then?” you shake your head, chewing your lip. “Like I told the others, it’s not a good idea”.
“Okay,” Tooru replies, standing upright and turning to saunter away. He draws out the word as he does whenever he concedes an argument he still thinks he has won. You stare at his retreating back with a bereft sense of defeat, now cold where your arms had been linked.
“Tooru,” you say. He makes an inquisitive noise, his nose wrinkled as he rummages through the deep fried snacks. “Being rejected and watching you two leave again—I can’t do both”.
Your voice cracks. That strikes a chord square in his chest; the sudden crestfallen expression is evidence enough. Tooru abandons the tempura shelf and tucks the bottles of liquor under his armpit while tucking you under the other. You're a mess, a cacophony of emotion threatening to spill out through your tightly closed eyes.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to push you”.
“I mean. You did,” you laugh thickly, and Tooru has the decency to appear sheepish. He rubs his hand down your side. “But it’s okay. I know you mean well, you all do”.
It’s enough to see that it comes from a place of love. The extent of your yearning has affected him just as much as anyone. Tooru watched consistently over the years while you stood in place and dug, and dug, and dug, for somewhere to put your feelings. That along the line it became a crater you couldn’t climb out from. That while you were desperate to make it hospitable, desirable, to be a person Hajime could want, he had managed to blindly pivot around it his whole life.
The electrical buzz emanating from the fridges is abnormally loud as Tooru, for a precious second, actually stalls to gather his next words. “Look. I’ve been thinking,” he says with a rather rehearsed air.
“That’s not good”.
“Don’t be mean. Hear me out,” he grins. “It was weird for Hajime to suggest a trip so last minute, don’t you think?”
You purse your lips thin with a contemplative hum, grabbing the snacks and shuffling along the aisle while he talks. You had thought it significant, that being the main reason you encouraged Hajime’s idea in the first place. “See, he’s a straightforward, honest guy. And he’s earnest. That’s why you think if he returned your feelings he would’ve said something, isn’t it?”
The cashier furtively looks you over as you wander closer to the counter and set them down. You offer a strained smile. “Hi, that’s everything. Tooru—what’s your point?”
Tooru pulls out his wallet and emphatically states, “My point is you’re wrong!” He hands over the money, “Oh, here. Keep the change. Thank you”. You take the carrier bag, wincing when the glass bottles clink together. “Anyway,” Tooru exhales a heavy breath, visible as he steps into the night air, “You’re underestimating his cowardice”.
Coward was not a descriptor you’d ever ascribe to Hajime. Yourself, sure. You shoot Tooru a sidelong glance, and he smiles at your clear scepticism. “Iwa-chan is bad at being selfish. He feels a certain responsibility toward the people he cares about. Did on our old team, and with the guys, and especially with you,” Tooru continues, a warmth to his tone. “He’s probably not thinking about his own feelings. He’s mostly worried about you, and yours”.
Your pace lags until you’ve come to a stop. Tooru does so a few steps ahead. “So he brought us here for what? To let me down gently?”
“Did you listen to a word I just said?” Tooru cocks his head, the moon crowning his head, light threading through his hair as his expression is shadowed. “I think he was always aware of what could change if he outright confessed. He needed to be sure, and he needed a reason, because his gorilla brain thinks it’ll ruin your whole relationship. That’s why we’re here,” you blink at his lithe fingers, waving in your face and wriggling. “It's an excuse. Because he wants to try!”
Eyes wide, caught in the place between awed disbelief and crippling anxiety, your fingers almost slip from under the bag handle. The trip being symbolic of Hajime’s resolve—could that make sense? You swallow against the lump in your throat. Memories of every recent there-and-gone-again touch and gentle look hold new meaning as they resurface. “He said that?”
“Well, no”.
And the lump in your throat, presumably your heart, drops straight into your stomach. You march past Tooru into the hotel lobby with a bitter laugh.
“Wait, would you—! You’re both so frustrating”.
“Me?” you whirl around to glare at him. People linger at the edge of your vision. Those prim, soft looking women that greeted you mere hours ago are gathered at the reception desk and pretending not to stare. Lowered into a broken rasp, you tell him, “What happened to not pushing? You aren’t being fair, Tooru”.
“This isn’t about fairness. You said you're scared,” Tooru says. Your eyes dipped low to avoid the surety in his gaze. “And that’s fine. I just want you to consider that maybe you’re not the only one who’s scared”.
His words register gradually, and they make you ache; similar to that of a bruise, as the implications become clearer, and your reply comes quietly—not whispered, with a voice that carries no strength. “Fine,” you lift your head, ball your fist tighter and the plastic handles dig into your palm. The tension smooths in Tooru’s brow. His eyes soften, squinting at the corners, and you realise you’ve begun to smile too. “I’ll keep it in mind. You’ve said your piece. What now?”
“Oh. Now we go back to the room before Hajime sends a search party, eat as much as we want and drink until we fall asleep,” Tooru says, casting a quick glance to your surroundings. He drapes arm around your shoulders haughtily, “Then at the festival tomorrow I’ll conveniently slip away with Makki and Mattsun to leave you and Hajime alone. Do with that what you will”.
You snort, feeling an unrestrained fondness for your friends, and will yourself not to cry. “You three already had this planned, didn’t you? Issei told me the same thing”.
“Confess, don’t confess. Either way, I think it’ll be good for you to talk alone,” he says resolutely. Tooru’s one armed embrace has the steadiness of home. You return it, hooking around his lower back, and walk together. His strides that much longer, and you feel a smidgen braver.
Returning to the room you’re greeted by the sight of three men crowded in the genkan pushing to get their shoes back on. As Tooru anticipated they were preparing to go out looking for you both. The smile on your face only grew at Hajime’s admonishments now you're considering the love behind them, Tooru’s words relaying through your memory.
If Takahiro and Issei exchange a look at the bounce in your step, well. You happily ignore it.
Yukatas had been laid out neatly for each of you to wear for dinner. Once you’ve changed you putter into the main room and settle on your knees, resting back on your calves. The tatami is comfortable underneath your shins. Set on the table is a lavish spread of food brought up to you by the ryokan staff.
The heat of another body radiates to your left. Hajime smiles when you look at him and your heart thunders. He’s unbearably handsome in his complimentary robe, a darker blue than your own, and he has it loose at the neck. You feel a headache coming on with the effort it takes not to ogle his chest.
To your right Takahiro’s navy coloured garb is worn equally loose, somehow managing to look dishevelled rather than natural. As though he had pulled it on haphazardly in his excitement to get to the food.
Tooru saunters into the room alongside Issei. His robe matches your own. It is drawn tight at the waist and closed at the collar, closely outlining his upper half. You are always startled by how broad Tooru truly is, given how lithe his movements are. He huffs when he notices the spots rather side of you are taken.
“Ready to eat?” Issei rumbles, sitting opposite at the low table looking nonplussed as ever. You can’t help noticing his belt is barely holding tension and could fall open at any time, both sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. It smells incredible,” you say. The dinner is beautiful, a healthy array of colour, covered in mouth watering glaze. Seasonal flowers and leaves and decoratively cut vegetables have been used as finishing touches on each dish, artistically expressing the end of the summer. Your stomach twists in hunger as both palms come together in synchrony, “Thank you for the food”.
You take your chopsticks and reach for the dish closest. Limbs cross over the table top. A familiar, homely scent of saffron, garlic and onion fills your senses. The gloaming moon watches you eat in the relaxed atmosphere. Soft sounds of satisfaction, the clang of cutlery. “S’good,” Hajime says. He catches you staring and lifts his chopsticks toward you, free hand cupped beneath it. “Want to try?”
It’s unnecessary in the best way. “Mmn,” you replied, leaning forward with an indulgent smile. You don’t trust yourself to speak, the spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to your body.
Could Hajime really return your feelings? Tooru certainly thinks so. Issei and Takahiro. Seemingly everyone that has been within twenty feet of you.
Tooru watches the interaction over his glass of umeshu, radiating a smugness that can only be interpreted as ‘I see you’. You don’t particularly enjoy being seen to the bottom of; it makes you want to shrink back. It’s the strange flicker of determination on Hajime’s face that keeps you from doing so.
You’re not the only one afraid to say something, a voice insists in the back of your head.
The food falls apart gently on your tongue. You give a pleasantly surprised hum, engrossed in the rich flavours, and you almost miss how Hajime preens. His mouth pulled into a small, boyish grin, unable to look you in the eye.
“Hey man, give me some,” Takahiro bemoans, his amusement on the precipice of teasing. You recline to allow Hajime to pass the dish across and instinctively know what will come next. “I see how it is. Not gonna feed me too? Favouritism at its finest—” With a flat glare he scoops a large chunk of rice and shovels it into Takahiro’s mouth mid sentence, and you hide a laugh behind your hand.
As the plates empty your imagination wanders. It’s a careful unravelling of doubt. You’ve navigated every one of your relationships with a certain level of trepidation, Hajime most of all. Taking a forward step only when certain it wouldn’t creak. Years of doing nothing, saying nothing, because it was the safe option. You had been prepared to spend your life in that unspoken purgatory if it meant keeping Hajime, and there had been comfort in that decision.
But now you have permission to hope and you don’t know what to do with it. You’re quieter than usual, though nobody points it out. If anything they seem relieved. Three of the four, atleast. Hajime won’t stop sending you worried glances. You wonder if he’s overthinking his actions, and your reactions, the way you’ve always done.
The main tatami room is fragrant with the remains of dinner. You’ve gathered some pillows, shared out the snacks and poured their drinks, five sups in and counting. The boys are bickering over which movie to watch. Sake heats you from the inside out, plucks you right from your entangled thoughts and back into the present with loose limbs and a looser tongue.
You speak loudly over them, “How about a comedy?” It’s the first one you can think of. “Tampopo?”
Issei, Takahiro and Hajime pause to consider. Tooru groans, already knowing he has lost the majority vote. “I wanted to watch ‘Before we vanish’,” he whines. “Sci-fi is better than comedy!”
“We always watch sci-fi,” Hajime remarks as he works the remote, switching the movie category to comedy and searching for ‘Tampopo’.
“There’s a drinking game for this one,” Takahiro adds. “I think you sip every time somebody says ‘ramen’”.
“If you want to be put on a waitlist for a new liver go ahead,” Issei says.
The room briefly fades to darkness, lighting up not a second layer as the studio logo spins onto the screen, emphasising the shadows of Hajime’s laughter lines. “We should drink every time there’s a weird food-porn montage instead,” he suggests, sinking back onto his elbows. Your traitorous mind immediately notes the few inches between your hands.
“Well I’ll be drinking in protest,” Tooru turns his nose up though his eyes betray him, fixed on the screen with obvious interest. “And I’m not sure I want to hear the word ‘porn’ from your mouth ever again”.
“Porn,” Hajime says. “Porn, porn, porn”.
“Quiet,” you hiss, focus absorbed by the opening scene. An odd pair of lovers, one delicate woman and her white-suited gangster, enter a movie theatre. Their entourage scurries behind them with champagne and a wicker basket of food, setting up a small table as though in a restaurant.
“Oh,” the dapper man’s voice bleeds through the speakers as he approaches the camera to break the fourth wall and harangue the viewer. “So you’re at a movie too. What are you eating?”
“Dried calamari,” Issei answers loftily. Takahiro snorts into his drink.
Scene to scene, you drink when prompted and settle into uninhibited contentment. Feet tucked up under your thighs, propped on a plush pillow. The heat from Hajime’s hand grazes your skin. Closer and closer until the simple stretch of your fingers would see them entwined.
The movie is funny. It is also unabashedly sensual and hedonistic, and heavy handed about its themes surrounding food. From oysters to noodles, including a scene involving the two lovers using their tongues to move an egg yolk between their mouths before it bursts, you're barraged with wet slurping sounds as the characters on screen eat, and eat, and eat.
“Hot,” Takahiro slurred, while Tooru cried, “What the hell are we watching?”
You drank twice for that one. Too tipsy to parse whether the hot flashes through your body were embarrassment or arousal or an intermingling of both. You’re overly conscious of Hajime’s movements and his closeness, so much so that the plot passes through one ear and out the other.
The dim lamplight from the ensuite room pools across the tatami, the door left ajar to luminate the spot where you’ve lined up the liquor bottles. You squint at the labels. Fuzzy. Laughter ripples through the group at the ongoing scene, an elderly woman being chased around a grocery store and hit with a fly swatter for seemingly—fingering the food?
You smile at the sound as you lift Tooru’s umeshu bottle to the light to measure the remains before pouring some into your glass. A hand circles your ankle, shifting back and forth to fit the peak into the gaps between his knuckles. The soft evocation of your name. Hajime is holding out his own empty cup with a half lidded gaze, the left side of his face thrown into stark relief by the TV screen.
Something hot flares through your chest, your perspective on his tactile habits shifted; the initial desire suffuses to the very tips of your fingers. Now you’re restless with it. He’s so handsome, you think. And he’s still looking at you.
You fill his drink too, and hope the alcohol will not steal these warm moments come morning.
Once the movie is over your sprawled out bodies eventually migrate toward the futons Issei prepared. You forgo the bed to crawl into the covers, to the surprise of no one, and let your eyes trail after Tooru. The flush across his nose has steadily deepened throughout the night. He flicks on the electric fan and kneels to roots through his luggage, pulling a compact from the front pocket with a triumphant noise.
“Comfortable over there?” Tooru circles the pad of his pinky into the balm and brings it to his mouth. The faint strawberry scent is enticing, preferable over the heady, bitter smell of beer. His brow quirks when you don’t reply.
“Want some?” he asks. Slowly, you nod, and he flashes a wry smile, setting down the pot before stretching to reach you. The motion draws you in, tipping your chin up. His fingers are soft on your cheek, splayed out and cradling your jaw.
Tooru kisses you. Your heart maintains a steady rhythm. It’s a friendly, chaste press of lips; you rub your own together as he pulls away not a second later, finding them smoother. Sweeter. The hints of strawberry linger right beneath your nose. Caught in your own world you fail to notice the other two men staring.
“Oh no,” Issei drawls. Turns off the light as he saunters in. He drapes himself across a prone, drunk Takahiro, tilting his head in Tooru’s direction. “My lips are so dry”.
The atmosphere sparks a little. Issei’s teasing, syrupy tone is like flint striking steel. A fond, syrupy sensation settles around your bones—or perhaps that was the alcohol easing the tension. Flirting came easily amongst the others because it was without expectation. The silly pet names and heavy handed affection; it’s all a playful toeing of the line. People found your group dynamic odd no matter how much you tried to articulate it to them. You think in the end, it boiled down to trust. To safety. They all loved you in their own, individual ways, as you loved them. Maybe that's how you'd managed to be so content with Hajime's friendship. It had been enough.
Tooru hums and sits cross legged on his futon. He settles back onto his hands, smiling hazily as Hajime kicks his foot in passing, “I’ve noticed”.
You can’t help appreciating how genuinely coy it is. Patently different to the way he behaves with strangers—not so forced. With his friends flirting is more about working for Tooru’s permission; it’s more fun that way.
Issei purses his lips expectantly. Tooru leans forward.
“You okay?”
You blink. Hajime lowers onto the futon beside yours. His yukata has fallen further open to display his firm chest. Not that you’re looking. You’ve been cordoned on the far end of the room together. Takahiro is too drunk to make any purposeful decision but it’s obvious—at least to you—that Tooru and Issei chose from the remaining futons to keep you and Hajime together.
“Sleepy,” you say, the lull to your voice earning a gentle smirk in response.
“Want any, Iwa-chan?” Hajime’s frowns at the interruption and looks over his shoulder, taking in the suggestive intermittent puckering of Tooru’s mouth. You think at this rate there’ll be no balm left.
“No thanks,” he says.
“Have it your way,” Tooru grumbles from his place beside Takahiro, right in the centre. Pale legs kick at his covers until they’re rumpled a certain way, apparently satisfying to him, and he wriggles down into the mattress. “Still think we should’ve watched ‘Before we vanish’. I’m going to have nightmares about oysters”.
Issei snorts. He turns on his side, laid at the furthest end from you. “But does ‘Before we vanish’ use an egg yolk to symbolise orgasm?” his hand makes a sweeping gesture in the shadows, “I don’t think so”.
“Tha’s cinema baby,” Takahiro slurs, mouth muffled against his pillow. A beat passes. You meet Hajime’s gaze. His lips are pressed thin, trembling. You hear a smothered wheezing sound coming from Tooru’s futon, and the stillness is abruptly broken by a unanimous fit of laughter.
“Shit,” your cheeks ache, your stomach is in knots as you pull the covers up over your persistent grin. The collective glee tapers. “I’ve,” Hajime starts after a deep breath, rubbing at his eyelids, “missed you idiots”.
Tooru sniffles at that. “Don’t make me cry,” he says, clearing the emotion cloying in his throat. You feel a pang of sympathy, overcome with it yourself. “I’ll wake up with swollen eyes and I forgot to bring gel masks”.
“Use a cold damp cloth or something”.
“Mattsun, you're so primitive”.
Eventually the murmuring between the boys settles into silence; the kind that makes the shadows in your room a little darker, dense branches spreading across the ceilings and walls into a daunting canopy. The electric fan and the cicadas hum a cohesive song into the night.
Through the thick of it, you hear a new whisper. Hajime calls your name and there’s barely any voice behind it—uncharacteristically timid. Blinking away the haze, your eyes adjust to the lack of light. You can see an inviting, wide open embrace. The corner of a blanket pulled back to expose his torso.
Intention clear, you first glance at the sleeping figures over his shoulder. Tooru curled into a cocoon with his bedsheets tucked under his feet. Takahiro laid out on his belly, open mouthed and drooling. Issei on his side, arm bent beneath the pillow, breathing so shallow you’re tempted to pinch him awake.
Hajime waits while you think. Your vision has sharpened enough to make out the trepid smile on his face. Emboldened, you crawl out of the futon and into his.
“Looked cold over there,” he reasons.
You hum in agreement. Compared to his body heat, you’d say it had been freezing. Despite all the hard earned muscle over the years, Hajime is pliable when he’s relaxed, doughy, and he yields when you begin to adjust your shared position. You guide his arm down to cinch around your waist and nestle against his chest, legs overlapped. Made up of yourselves but also each other.
“Better?” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. A final shiver dances the length of your spine as your nerves settle and anticipation thaws. You can feel his heart beating like a wing beneath your palm.
It reminds you of when you were kids. The jagged shape of a tall, lego Godzilla had forced you to find home between him and Tooru more times than you could count. Everything had been so much bigger. Scarier. Still, those watercolour memories don’t quite hold a candle to this.
Hajime’s hand glides down your back in repetitive, methodical strokes. It makes you feel delicate, like something in you might fracture. You try to ease your breathing as he pulls you closer. The proximity isn’t anything new, but this is something else. Different. It always is, with him, only this time you don’t need to convince yourself otherwise.
Fingers twisting into the thin cotton of his yukata, you mumble, “Thanks, Haji”.
You feel his lips on your temple like hot wax. Your eyes flutter closed, and all at once you feel brave enough to say it, but the moment passes as his head drops against the pillow.
From the recesses of your memory rose the rehearsed speeches, the recipes for honmei chocolate, the imagined cliche scenarios that you left dog-eared in highschool. All the ways to say ‘I love you’.
Hajime has always expressed love in smaller ways. You’ve observed, over the years, his little habits. Easing small burdens. He’d take the clothes off his own back if it could make your journey smoother but wouldn’t ever dream of asking you to stray from it. That’s where you differed, and what you feared.
If he got cold feet you would need to be the brave one.
For all that you had doubted about the nature of Hajime’s feelings towards you over the years, you could have some faith in it now. The thought of him leaving again without hearing it from you—without knowing you were an option—doesn’t bear thinking about.
Vague and half-formed, you succumb to sleep on the end of a drowsy self imposed promise. Tomorrow, you’ll tell him.
Wading through a cottony haze, your consciousness sharpens in increments. Every physiological response in your body is shouting that it is far too soon to rise. You groan, tilt your head and let it loll against your arm; the other is flung outside of the covers, fingertips skimming the futon edge.
You’ve turned on your side in the night. Slowly, you realise a firm body has conformed to your back, knees nudged up behind your own, bending them toward your chest. The way you melt into their warmth and nudge against the cradle of their hips is instinctive. Then the shallow, steady breaths brushing the nape of your neck stutter on a sharp inhale and your eyes fly open, remembering where you are.
Hajime.
After a few seconds endured with bated breath you release the tension in your muscles. He’s asleep.
There’s stark relief. The initial terror in your chest ebbs. Careful as you go, you slip out from Hajime’s grip. A crease forms in his nose, frowning at your absence, and you stay to see how he reaches for you even subconsciously.
A long yawn forces your jaw open, tongue sitting like cotton as the last dregs of sleep fade. A quick look around the room tells you Takahiro is the only one up. The latticed door to the onsen is cracked open. You pull your yukata tighter to your chest to shield against the slight draft. Blood rushes down to your toes as you walk, prickling white noise filling both legs.
Bordering the onsen is a quaint patio area mimicking a traditional veranda. There’s a mosaic garden table and two matching folding chairs, one of which is occupied by a visibly hungover Takahiro.
“Anyone would think you had a night out,” you murmur, closing the door behind you. The air is cool again. Morning birdsong carries over from the trees. Takahiro peeks at you through his lashes, a permanent frown etched into his brow. A headache, if you had to guess. He’s slumped in the chair with long legs stretched outward, a cigarette nestled in the ‘V’ between his fingers, held up by a loose wrist like it alone was too heavy.
The tip glows red as he takes another drag and turns his head away to exhale the smoke into the dew laden air. “Never let me mix drinks again,” he rasps.
“You say that every time,” you cross your arms over your middle and sit down. The metal is cold under your thighs, felt through the thin fabric. “Sleep well, atleast?”
“Like the dead,” he flashes a conspicuous smile as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “You?”
A voice nonchalant in a way that betrays his interest. Subtle in his teasing. Despite already knowing he would’ve seen you and Hajime on his way to the veranda, the confirmation leaves you feeling hot.
“It was comfortable,” you reply stiffly, braced to defend yourself ad nauseam. Takahiro’s eyes softened in the rousing grey-blue daylight.
“Good,” he says.
“That’s all?”
“What, you want me to force the subject? Figured you've had enough of that already”.
“No,” you sigh, sinking into your chair. “…Thanks, Makki”.
Takahiro shrugs lightheartedly and stubs his cigarette out. There’s movement from inside the room. At that moment the door slides open, and Hajime pops his head through the narrow gap.
Your fingers twist hard around your obi. He looks sleep mussed where he’s sitting on the tatami, pushing the door further open to lean on the frame. There’s recognition and relief in his gaze as he glances from Takahiro to you. No indication he was awake before.
“Hey,” Takahiro says.
“Morning,” Hajime replies, sounding as though his throat is dry. A draft dances through and his face scrunches slightly at the nicotine smell. “I set an alarm for breakfast. They’ll be here in any minute”.
“The other two up?” you ask.
“Mostly,” Hajime nods in their general direction. “Tooru’s getting in the shower and Issei’s on the phone to his little brother”.
Takahiro takes a deep inhale and pushes his centremost knuckle to his forehead. “I’ll go help put away the futons,” he states with a groan. Hajime tucks his legs in to allow him through and swats at the hand that scrubs over his hair in passing.
He turns his attention to you. A crease from his pillow marks his cheek. “Have you been awake long?”
“About ten minutes,” you reply, staring hard at the dense garden and dwindling into silence caught somewhere on the knife’s edge between awkward and companionable. Running water streams from the wooden spout into the onsen, making the surface ripple. You latch onto the sound. “Shame we didn’t use the onsen”.
“We’re still here another night,” Hajime says placatingly. “Use it when we’re back from the festival if you want”.
You nod, adjusting your yukata without reason. The simple need for distraction. “Maybe,” your mind can’t help veering toward the worst case scenario. What would’ve changed by that time, tonight? What would you say, and how, if anything at all? The thought makes your stomach twist. You’re not sure you could recover if he reacted poorly.
Blinking out of your reverie, you realise that Hajime had been talking. Heat prickles under your skin. “Sorry,” you grin awkwardly, and it feels brittle on your face. “Got lost in my thoughts”.
“About what?”
You wet your lips, like that could soften the blow. “I’m going to miss you,” you tell him. His expression falls. “Both of you,” you add hastily, which does little to reassure him. “When’s your flight again?”
Hajime’s mouth thins, eyes dipping low. “Late tomorrow night. Or early I guess,” he answers. His shoulders shake and he laughs ruefully, “I’ll miss you too, y’know. Not sure you realise how much,” like it was a matter of fact. The earth would go around the sun and Hajime would miss you.
“Like a hole in my head,” you murmur, so quiet you’re not certain he heard you. Then, slightly louder, “Are you excited to get back to California?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m excited to leave. Got a lot of interesting stuff coming up this semester, though,” he perks up when you gesture, encouraging him to continue. Inwardly, selfishly, you only want to hear him speak a little longer. “One thing I’ve really wanted to do is biomechanical testing. We use it for detailed analysis of our players movement. So…”
The air stifles as the sun rises and drapes across the private veranda, warming the wood panels beneath your feed. Once breakfast has been laid out—and you’ve been bid an enthusiastic ‘good morning’ by the staff—you gravitate toward the same seating arrangement as the night prior.
It’s nothing short of a buffet. A traditional Japanese-style breakfast, hot rice and miso soup, grilled fish, dried seaweed and shellfish boiled in soy sauce and sugar, all served across four hand-woven bamboo trays. There are western elements to the spread, including coffee and bread, which Tooru happily reaches for.
“A person like you should really avoid stimulants,” Hajime muttered as he came to sit at the table.
Tooru startled, hands poised over the steaming coffee pot. He pouted, “A person like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Paranoid, is what I mean”.
“If you're so concerned about my overactive limbic system maybe try being nicer to me!”
The morning crawls onward with an atmosphere of trepidation. As if waiting for the other shoe to drop. You squirrel away in the ensuite bathroom again to get dressed, taking longer than necessary. Condensation from Tooru’s hot shower sticks to the tile and the mirror’s surface. The reflection is foggy, your figure like a smudge. You regret not bringing a kimono for the festival—knowing you’ll be surrounded by all that beauty and colour and you worry you’ll look dull in comparison.
Regardless, you smooth out any lingering creases in your outfit. Dull or otherwise it flatters your silhouette nicely.
“Oh”.
You step out just as Takahiro angles his mouth to exhale. Smoke plumes out the open door in delicate wisps, swept away by a humid gust of wind. “Shit—sorry,” he mutters, a little flustered as he scrambles to shield you from the smoke, eyes roving over your form.
“You okay?” you ask, unsure if you should be amused or insecure.
He stubs his cigarette out into the ashtray balanced on the side and wipes his hands on his jeans with such speed you worried it might create static. Then, suddenly, he’s across the room with his thumb sinking into the swell of your left cheek, tobacco fingertips framing the right; he pushes them together until your mouth is puckered. There’s nothing sweet about it. Rather, it looks like he wants to squeeze you like a clementine.
“You’re all glowy. And determined,” the crease in his brow deepens, and he adds pressure to his fingers until you’re squirming, flustered. “And you look cute”. Issei emerges from the garden at that moment. Hand up his dark turtleneck shirt, scratching idly at the hair on his belly.
A deep groan rumbles in his throat. “What are you two doing?”
“I think it’s finally happening”.
Drawn to Hanamaki’s incredulous outburst, Issei stares at your confused, squashed face as it is turned in his direction. His mouth parts and he squints, as though he were searching for the right words.
What the fuck, you think.
“What the fuck,” he says, as if plucking the thought from the air.
“Right?”
They sidle either side of you. Tall and looming, their overbearing presence has anticipation swooping in your belly. Issei smells it like blood in the water and hooks two fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Well look at that,” he teases, bending forward until your eyes cross. “Wonder who you’re getting all dressed up for. Us?”
“Fuck off,” you grumble, though it comes out muffled and terribly nasal. Takahiro laughs, and his thumb skips over your rabbit-footed pulse as his hand slides down the column of your throat and away.
“Oi. In all seriousness you do look good,” Issei smiles. His kind eyes squint with it. They’ve made a clear effort themselves. That’s part of the fun.
A voice floats in from the genkan, “Who are we talking about?” Tooru looks up from his phone and he beams. “Oh! You look cute,” he says, tone light and pleasant. “Hajime will like it”.
“Your reactions are worrying me a bit,” you reply dryly in favour of ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “Anyone would think I usually look awful”.
“No,” their three voices overlap as they protest. “You never look awful,” Tooru says, shaking you gently by the shoulders. Then he stops to consider his words. “Well. Maybe that time we thought you had strep throat”.
“What Oikawa wants to say is,” Takahiro cuts in with a flat glare in the other’s direction, “We’re here to support you today, and stuff. That’s all”.
“And stuff,” you repeat, a fond smile coming unbidden to your lips. The surge of affection has you trying to stretch your arms around three big bodies. “You’re being overbearing. But thank you”.
Their arms come up to wrap around your lower back and reciprocate. You are corralled into a long, strong hug, compressed from every direction. They release you when Hajime returns. He is visibly stupefied at the scene, brow knit as he fiddles with the collar of his dark denim jacket.
Your spine straightens, taking an unnecessarily deep breath. “Hi Hajime,” you say. It feels so different now, now there's all that premeditated intent behind it. Like ‘IloveyouHajime’ bunched into a single word.
“Hi. You look…” Hajime's throat bobs. “Good. You look good”.
You glance at the boys and chew the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress your grin, “So I’ve heard”.
The sun is at its highest point when you leave the ryokan together. You are swallowed up by gold beneath the gingko trees flanking the road, a mosaic of dappled light filtering through the partial canopy and intermixed with the softly shaded ground.
Foot traffic grew dense on the main street, teeming with life. “Stick close,” Hajime murmured next to your ear. You suppressed a shudder and took his arm so as not to stray far. The crowd herds your group closer to the heart of the festival. Sound assailed you from every direction. Thousands of lanterns have been strung up, forming a blushing canopy over the yagura, a makeshift stage housing performers and musicians, handsome taiko drummers setting the pace for participants to gather around it and dance along in circles.
There’s a sense of harmony, pigments blended into one another. Families are swathed in beautiful kimonos and silks, jinbei and traditionally woven hats. Your group stood out for their height alone—Mattsun especially, the tallest of the four men. People part to let you through, and children look skyward with awed eyes, jumping in place to see how high they could get.
The current pushes you towards the stalls, where an amalgamation of savoury scents pervade the air. Sweet, crisp okonomiyaki sauce, intense pickled ginger, charcoal smoked meats. Hunger knots in your stomach. Hajime looks over the heads of people and spots some vendors.
“Guys,” he raises his voice and drops his arm around your back with firm reassurance. The others pause, colliding with the moving bodies around them. “Food first. Then we can go to the games”.
You’re suitably satiated after takoyaki. The folded boat-shape container they’d handed over to you is warm in the already throbbing heat. It burns at the nape of your neck; the sun and the many stares of those around you. Takahiro, Issei and Tooru, too, keep flicking their eyes over, as if waiting for something to happen, or some kind of sign.
Music plays over the din. A quick-tempo showy melody, like one would hear at a circus. Takahiro points at the ring toss stall. “Hey, ‘kawa. Win me something,” he says.
“Win it yourself!”
“Don’t be like that babe,” Takahiro laments dramatically, his movements becoming languid and sloppy as he drapes himself around Tooru’s shoulders with his mouth curled into a smarmy grin. “You’re so much better at tossing than me”.
At your back, Hajime shakes with restrained amusement. Issei catches your eye and shakes his head while Tooru sniffs primly, attempting to scrunch his own smirk into a displeased pout, and relents. “Fine,” he says. “But one of you needs to win me a mask at the rifle-shooting game”.
“I don’t need to do anything,” Issei replies dryly as they start toward the ring toss game with startling synchrony. You glance at Hajime’s face, at another tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile, and feel the limitless joy of being together ballooning inside you.
“Did you want anything?” he asks as you walk.
Giddy, you cling closer. Part of your brain is stuck on the thought that anyone on the outside looking in would probably assume you were a couple. “If you’re feeling generous,” you exaggerate the flutter of your eyelashes, making Hajime snort.
Hours slip through your fingers like sand. In no time at all the sky began to darken. There’s a bubbling anticipation in your chest the later it gets. You lift your head to be met with the ochre of evening, azure blending into vivid orange at the horizon.
Issei tips his head back to take in the sky. “Fireworks are starting soon,” he announces. Tooru’s eyes flicker to you. The tangible sense of finality that had permeated the afternoon comes to a long awaited fulcrum. You’re tempted to linger amongst the stalls, simply to vy for extra time.
“You two should go and find somewhere to sit,” Tooru insists, shaking his finger from Hajime to you, “We’ll go grab some more food and join you later”.
Hajime levels him with a flat look. “All three of you are needed for that?”
“Yes,” Tooru smiles back, an intensity to his expression. You shift your weight from left foot to right, waiting with bated breath.
After a moment of anticipatory silence, Hajime exhales his acquiescence and turns to you. “Come on then. Let’s find a spot”.
You’re pulled along with him, casting a lasting glance toward your friends and their encouraging gestures as you go. He leads two steps ahead, shoulders drawn to his ears, which are now notably pink. The fingers around your forearm are clammy and loose enough that you could break free. Instead, you overturn your wrist and slide up into his palm, aligning your hands to properly hold him. You squeeze three times, and the rigidity in his posture lessens.
Hajime leads you away from the crowded centre toward the river bank as the display starts in an explosive burst. Couples and families have dispersed there to watch the fireworks. When he manoeuvres himself to his knees you bend to sit beside him, the soft blades of grass flattened under your weight.
The fireworks go on for close to half an hour, great pulsing strobes, fiery dandelions and starbursts of light brightening both the sky and the water. You hear nothing over the noise, not even your own breathing. A streak of gold shoots up, few becoming many, fizzling into pinpricks of light mimicking fireflies.
You wonder after it ends, "Are the Californian displays better?"
Hajime binks at you, registering the question. He makes a contemplative sound. "Bigger, yeah. Especially on the fourth of July," he brings your joined hands over his lap and you stare as he absentmindedly strokes the back of your knuckles. "Wouldn't say that makes it better. Better depends on the company".
You mumble your agreement, "Think the others missed it?"
"Would be pretty hard to miss," he smirks softly, falling into a comfortable silence. Childlike laughter chimes around you, sparklers of every colour glowing etching names and shapes into the darkness. “They’ll be around here somewhere”.
You lift your gaze, staring at his profile. Your eyes traced the line of his jaw up to the delicate shell of his ear. “Hey,” you mumble, drawing his attention away from the surroundings. Speckles of light reflect in his irises as he turns to face you, cheekbones burnished with a soft red afterglow. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something”.
His brow arches in lieu of a response. Every movement he made you mirrored without meaning to. Quieter than before, you start, “I…” and as fast as it comes your resolve withers. Stretches and thins into weak, fibrous threads.
“What’s wrong? Is it that bad?” he tries for a grin. Hajime puts on a brave face for you, he always does. But you can hear the genuine concern in this voice, and it spurs you on.
"Just don't want you to think I'm being selfish".
“You can be selfish sometimes," Hajime argues.
“Even with you?”
“Especially with me”.
You scrunch your eyes shut.
Hajime frowns and rushes to wipe the stray tear with his thumb, swiping right through it like spider silk. "Take your time," he murmurs, hands an unsteady counterpoint to the surety in his voice. Your heart beats, a desperate rattling behind your ribs. Trembling hands, damp skin. The swoop in your stomach that makes you feel as though your body is precariously balanced on a cliff's edge. This could be everything you’ve ever wanted. This is it.
A slow burn has to catch fire eventually.
So you reach inside and twist the spigot of your heart. A trickle becomes a flood fit to burst. It’s all encompassing, like love and heartbreak at the same time. You look at him and blurt, tremulously, “I’m in love with you,” then wince for having said it, as if you hadn’t really meant to.
“I have been for as long as I can remember. You’re my best friend and I was scared to say it and…” you continued, voice all in a rush, with the pained expression of someone who hadn’t meant to say that either, “I still am. Scared, that is. I'm sorry it took this long. My feelings for you were always at odds with my fear of losing you. And I’m sorry if it’s selfish. I know we don’t have much time left until you leave, and this could make everything weird, but you deserve to know that you're loved. That I love you. And—really, Hajime, if you could just stop me whenever you feel like it that would be great,” you snapped your mouth shut, white hot with embarrassment.
Hajime remained motionless, jaw slack and muscles wire-tight with tension for a long, sickening moment. The sting has you backing off, away, trying to think of something to explain, some excuse—
—Hajime surged forward and kissed you.
It is not like you imagined. There's nothing slow about it, no hesitance nor gentility. Hajime kissed as if trying to press the full weight of his want upon you. As if gravity were a mere suggestion. You suck in a sharp, surprised breath. Relaxing into it your arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders to pull him impossibly close, drinking in his soft shudder when you brush the nape of his neck, making all the little hairs there stand endwise.
Hajime's lips are smoother than they look. His hands roam over your hips, kneading the soft parts of your body, and you give way to indulgence. You tilt to kiss his shallow cupid's bow, down to the corner of his mouth. Teeth nibble at your lower lip, the tip of his tongue hatching hundreds of butterflies in your stomach as he traces the seam with promise.
Another loud bang startles you out of the kiss. Laughter and whispers. You sharpen to the surroundings, noting the distant acrid smell of smoke. Rather than release you, Hajime wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his nose into the hollow where your jaw and neck met. Faint stubble tickles your throat. Your heartbeat clamours in your ears, the blood in your body blush rushing to your head.
"Sorry," you hear him say. His lips drift across your skin as he speaks. The apology fills you with immediate dread. "Should've asked before I did that," he continued quietly.
"Fuck. Is that all?" you slump in his grip with a quiet, wet laugh. "You scared me".
Hajime rears back to look at you, enough room to share a shallow exhale. His palm, large and rough, rose to cradle your cheek. He leans his forehead against yours. You feel like you’ve eaten the sun, brimming with inexpressible tenderness.
"Sorry," he repeats, understanding washing over his expression and a sheepish, fond smile playing on his lips. Pinker than before, not cold bitten, but kiss bitten. "Waited to do that for a long time," his eyes soften in the shadows, half lidded as they flit across your features.
"You have?"
"Used to think you would be my first kiss. First everything, really," Hajime's smiles broadens at your uncertainty, awed and dumbfounded, as he maps out the curve of your jaw with his thumb. Light over your fluttering pulse point. His hand drops and the heat lingers on your neck. He swallows, a sobering moment. "I love you too. Not sure if there was ever a time that I didn’t," he pauses then, looking out toward the orange glow flickering through the treeline, expression unguarded and open. “I kept trying to find opportunities to tell you. I didn't know how. Thought it wouldn't be...”
"Fair?" you finish for him. Of course.
The bonfire has been lit. Cheers can be heard across the river. Your thoughts splinter, stuck in the present while wondering if the others found their way, or if they were hidden somewhere, watching it all unfold. The mental image of them crouched in a random bush together makes you snort, and Hajime's brow pinches.
"Just," you rush to explain, grasping his forearm. You're halfway into his lap. When had that happened? "I imagined the guys hiding somewhere trying to spy on us. S'stupid".
An impish grin graced Hajime's face, ducking his chin as though to hide it. "I wouldn't put it past them," he says. And it hits you that—Hajime has always looked at you like this. Has been saying he loved you, for a long time.
You dither, your skin suddenly cool, and your palms clammy. "Hajime," you say at the same time as he begins to speak.
"Oh—you can—"
"No, you".
"I was going to say we should head back," his voice is infused with fond exasperation, gaze dipping to your union. He clears his throat, "For some privacy. I can't touch you the way I want to, out here".
“Right, right,” you nod slowly through the rush of adrenaline. It prickles in your fingers, the skin on your arms pebbling as Hajime eases you to your feet and a strong arm snakes around your waist. His lips brush your cheek.
“This okay?”
Melting into the crook of his elbow like it was a space carved just for you, you return a kiss to his jaw and tell him, “You don’t need to ask”.
“Noted,” he says roughly.
The walk to the ryokan is a blur. You hardly remember the faces of those you passed. The dancers had been bright in your periphery, their movements reduced to streaks of colour, and every beat of the taiko drum thundered in your chest.
The quick text you sent to the group chat receives an overwhelming litany of winking emoticons and exclamation marks. Inwardly you hope Hajime doesn’t read them until after—whatever it is you’re heading back to do. Hajime notices. “What’re they saying?”
“That, uh,” the phone screen dims as you lock it and shove it deep into your pocket. Your legs keep moving. “They promised not to be back for a while,” you shared a meaningful look and wet your lips at the ideas flitting through your mind. The taste of him lingers. Takoyaki, toothpaste and lip balm.
Together you stumble through the lobby to your room. Hajime remains close at your heel; not once do his hands leave your waist, steadying your movements. You feel drunk. Exhilarated and swept up in the newness of it, as if in a free fall. The keycard almost slips from your trembling fingers as the door beeps open. You step into the shadowed genkan and swivel to take his face into your hands. Another beep as the door closes. You press yourself to Hajime’s front and kiss him. Natural as anything.
Hajime leads you deeper into the room. The tatami yields under your feet. He sighs blissfully as your tongue swipes along the seam of his mouth, opening up for you and coaxing you in. It’s languid and without demand. The soft, wet sound makes your skin hot. You shudder as he sucks on your tongue, letting go to take the flesh of your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Need you. On the bed,” you murmur, threading your fingers into his cropped hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. Starting at the crown, you make your way down the back of his head to the nape of his neck where you found him to be sensitive. He shudders, goosebumps spreading over his skin, and arousal seeps through your core.
“Anything you want,” he breathes. A frisson of anticipation zips up your spine when he steps forward to crowd you against the bedroom door, fumbling at the handle. It swings open and your stomach tightens at the abrupt inertia, stumbling onto the bed together with an oomph.
Hajime rises onto his forearms, flicks on the lamplight before bracing either side of your head. His nose bumps yours, a warm puff of air against your mouth as he bends his knees, slotting your hips together. You kiss him again. It’s more of a press of mouths, because you can’t stop smiling, and neither can he.
The outline of his cock is pressed hot against you. You hook your heels into his lower back and breathe his name into his mouth. Flint sparks in your belly as he instinctively ruts forward, rising frantically to meet him. Lips part above your own in a shaky groan, quivering as he deepens the kiss.
There’s tension buzzing under your skin, the restless, pleasant kind that diffuses into every fibre of muscle and leaves you shaking. A soft hitch of breath. You rock your hips in search of relief, feeling his cock hard in the tight confines of his jeans. “More,” your voice dwindles into a weak moan.
“Slow down,” he calls to you, gentle and placating in a way that makes your eyes sting. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” and you wish that were true.
The rustle of fabric as you undress is inordinately loud in the intimate atmosphere he draws you into. Hajime’s eyes deign to stray from you as he shucks his jacket off and pulls his shirt over his head. The blush on his chest looks like the aftershock of a shot of sake; colour that seeps through his body and stains his skin. He’s gorgeous in the warm dim light, emphasising the shadows of his pecs and the downy hair on his navel. You trace a finger through it and preen at how his abdomen clenches.
A rough hand slips behind your knee, not quite prying them apart. Hajime thumb strokes the skin there. “Can I taste you?”
Desire tugs at the base of your spine, heart racing. You’re wet. You can feel the cool kiss of air between your thighs. With a surge of want they fall open to him. The quiet hitched breath doesn’t escape you as he looks at you.
Palms smooth down the backs of your thighs. They ache and stretch to accommodate him. Hajime descends, forging a languorous path of wet kisses on his way. Your stomach twists in anticipation when he blows lightly over your pussy, bringing your legs up to straddle his head, kneading the soft flesh there.
Hajime’s eyes can’t find a place to call home. Flitting from your sex to your chest to your face, mouth hovering just above where you want him. Even so you find yourself wanting to kiss him again. Wanting for more hands, more mouths, more time to learn him with.
“You’re beautiful,” he rasps, pressing praise into the delicate skin there. It’s the expression on his face that makes you throb. The intense, unabashed want. You’ve never seen him look like that. “You’ll tell me what you like, yeah?”
You concede with a barely audible mumble, unable to trust your voice. The corner of Hajime’s mouth quirks into a smirk. Then his thumbs are tucking into the innermost creases of your thighs, gently spreading your folds. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit before licking a broad stroke through your folds.
Forcing his eyes open, Hajime clutches at the fat around your hips. He laps at your pussy, alternating between slow and fast, firm and languid, finding a rhythm that plays your body until your hips are rolling against his face. You cling to the bedsheets, head dropping back into the pillows. “Like that. Hajime,” you gasp as flickers back and forth over your clit, breathlessness abated by the sudden rush of air to your lungs. “Fuck. Don’t stop—!”
You hear his deep inhale, and his eyes scrunch shut with a long groan as he keeps pace. It sends an echo of pleasure through you—makes you clench around nothing, an innate plea from your body. He kisses your pussy, open mouthed, sweet and precise. Heat gathers in your belly like a solar flare. The pressure has you bursting at the seams.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you say, voice caught in your throat. Your thighs wrap around his head, toes curling. He doesn’t push, or adjust his pace, or let his enthusiasm get the better of him. A broken moan spills from your lips, pelvis undulating with each wave. Hajime maintains the rhythm—exactly as you need it, right as your spine arches into the sheets, and your orgasm ripples through you.
Your breathing begins to steady. Your legs fall slack, hung limp over Hajime’s shoulders. He hums, a satisfied little noise, and rests his cheek against your inner thigh as his tongue slides lazily through your folds. You take in the arousal and spit coating his cheeks, half lidded stare, the sheen of sweat on his brow, and feel a surge of affection.
Your fingertips graze his temple. His eyes flutter at the tender touch, and Hajime tips into it, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Good?” he asks, smiling.
“Good?” you repeat with disbelief. You grab at his shoulders to coax him back up, pleased when he goes willingly. You readjust as he buries his arms under you and gathers you close to his chest, kissing the corner of your lips. You turn and murmur into his mouth, “You’re a little too good at that”.
Hajime laughs, lolling his forehead to yours. “Just good at following instructions,” his voice goes tight at the pressure against his cock, your hips raised to feel him through his briefs. “Fuck”.
“If you want to,” you tease dazedly. He nips at your lip in retaliation.
“Don’t feel like we have to,” Hajime reassures after a beat, hand coming to rest on your waist. He strokes up and down your flank. “I don’t have any condoms. And I know this has been pretty fast”.
You consider him closely, love suffusing through you like a warm, pleasant fog. It spurs you to admit things you wouldn’t have otherwise. “I’m clean. We can stop if you want to,” you kiss his cheek, “But I’ve waited enough. I want you,” you kiss the bridge of his nose, “Wanna know what you feel like inside me,” you kiss his slack mouth, tasting yourself. “Want you to know what I feel like when I cum, so you can think about it when we’re apart—”
Hajime pins you to the bed like a butterfly, his jaw set tight. His eyes are dark, gone is the colour of nascent spring. You feel swallowed up by him. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me cum,” he rumbles, reaching to push down his briefs.
“I don’t care if you cum as soon as you put it in,” you squirm, tucking your chin to watch the moment his cock slips free. He sits in his palm and wraps his fingers firmly around the base, leaning deeper into the cradle of your hips, legs splayed overtop his firm thighs.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hajime replies dryly, dipping to kiss you again. You’ve lost count of how many. He positions his arm above you by the headboard and the hot weight of his cock settles on your sex. You share a soft sigh as he guides the tip through your folds, the underside nudging against your clit.
“You know what I mean,” your focus is torn between talking and angling your hips to take more of him. “Doesn’t have to be mind blowing I just—want to be with you,” you mumble, quiet like an admission, and Hajime’s concentration comes apart at the seams.
The air is stolen from your lungs as the tip slips in. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, seeking—something. Leverage. A tether. Chest to chest, Hajime presses you deeper into the mattress as his cock sinks into you. Slow, attentive to your shifting expression while you adjust to the stretch.
And when he bottoms out you feel full. He’s thick. it has a sense of contentment spreading throughout your body. Eventually, “You can move, big guy”.
Hajime gives a gasping breath, groaning your name on the next. The rough timbre of his voice makes you pulse around him. The corded muscles in his arms flex as he shifts. There’s a dull sting while he pulls out, and a startling emptiness, immediately sated as he rocks his hips forward. You arch upward, angling your hips to take him deeper, and his eyes screw shut, lips parted in a silent moan.
Hajime fucks you with slow, deliberate thrusts, gradually building a rhythm, finding a pace that you respond to. You can hardly bear to look away from him. Flushed pink with exertion, the light lovingly kissing the left side of his face, mouth swollen and red. He’s murmuring little incantations of praise that you strain to hear over the sharp slap of skin, every thrust plucking another breathless sound from your throat.
And he’s looking right back, almost reverential. A desperate pinch to his brow. You dig your heels in, nails biting at his back. It’s all you can do to hold on. His kisses grow clumsy as his attention wanes, reaching a spit-wet hand down to play with your clit as he pistons his hips.
“M’close,” he grunts like it pains him to admit.
Your ears are ringing. The sticky, wet echo reverberates around the room as Hajime fucks you. His strokes press impossibly deeper and you choke on a moan, feeling him in your throat. His fingers rub faster over your swollen clit. Pleasure spreads through your belly, blood rushing between your thighs.
“Please,” you cradle his cheek, hot against your palm. He takes it in his free hand, interlocking your fingers against the bedsheets. The intimacy has your mind going numb. You’ve become a knot of a person. That new vulnerability, the love he’s immolating you with, is what knocks you toward the edge. “Hajime,” you cling to him desperately. “Hajime”.
“Fuck. I’m cumming, I’m—” Hajime buries his face into the crook of your neck, intermittently squeezing your hand. His thrusts are harder, sloppy. He shudders to a stop, his orgasm carving him straight down the middle with a drawn out moan.
The tension seeps from him all at once. You laugh breathlessly at his collapse, the weight both comfortable and bruising. His pelvis is nestled perfectly against your clit, and every twitch creates another wave of pleasure. You undulate your hips to chase the friction.
The only indication that Hajime notices is the smile curling against your throat. He lets his lips drift across your pulse, folding his arms around yours until the world and it’s axis are just that—Hajime. Without needing to ask, he stays close and circles his hips even as his cock softens inside you, tipping you over the precipice.
Time is difficult to measure while swaddled in your intimate little bubble. You’re not sure how long you spend simply holding one another, commiting how the other feels to memory. Hajime kisses your forehead. “Love you,” he says.
“Love you,” you croak back unattractively. He flinches at the sound, and props himself up to search your face.
Eyes wide and earnest he asks, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m alright. Just processing everything,” you reply, blinking away the sting behind your eyes. Hajime doesn’t look convinced.
“Tell me,” he gently encourages. There’s an anxious edge to his tone that you want rid of.
“Besides the fact that I had sex with the guy I’ve been in love with since middle school and everyone is going to know when they get back?” you laugh, making Hajime’s mouth curl as he carefully manoeuvres you both onto your sides. Better. “I’m just scared about what this means for us, I guess. Are we—you know, together now? Doing the long distance thing?”
Giving a thoughtful hum, he hooks your knee over his hip. Whether it’s to put off the mess a little longer or keep you close, you’re not going to complain. “I want to be with you,” he says.
“Even though we’ll be…” you squint as you think and reach inward for the specific number “…five thousand three hundred and fourteen miles apart?”
“You looked that up?” Hajime’s smile widens, dopey and fond in a way that makes your heart ache. “But yeah. We’ll take it one step at a time”.
“Then what’s the next step?”
“Next?” he says. Another tender kiss to your temple, a deep, pensive inhale. “Next, we use the onsen”.
You can’t be sure how long you stand there, sluggish and unblinking, fixated on the distant threads of grey cutting across an otherwise dark sky. It felt dissonant to the torrential downpour in your chest.
A warm body comes up behind you. Issei rests his chin on your crown, rubbing it back and forth as Takahiro knocks your elbows together, “Ready to go?”
No, you think. After a few beats of silence you phone buzzes in your hand and you scramble to check it. The background is the picture Takahiro took of you and Hajime by the lake, in a world of your own. A notification bar cuts across the screen.
Hajime (03:34): I love you. I’ll call when I land.
You swallow that thought and uproot yourself, “Yeah. Yeah I think so”.
#writer: shibaraki#iwaizumi hajime x reader#haikyuu fic#<- omg the first on this blog... everyone cheers#lying in me bed sniffling
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