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oh-katsuki · 1 year ago

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the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isn’t sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.

"There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason."

Content Warnings: fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling

Word Count: 24.8k

A/N: i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3

The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks he’s read that somewhere, though he’s just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be.

Kei’s room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesn’t think it feels half as romantic as it sounds.

The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and he’s never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different.

He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all.

Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. They’d miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth aren’t too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course.

Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesn’t wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isn’t until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky.

Kei’s room is clean and neat. There’s no clutter, no collection of items that don’t have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks he’d discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. It’s a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day.

Yamaguchi’s room is different. It’s lived in and well worn. There’s clutter on the floor, socks and pants he’d taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things don’t have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as he’d picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchi’s room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after they’re long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashi’s presence.

To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, he’s earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when he’s in his own spaces. Not that he minds it.

Tadashi’s dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend.

As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. He’s sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, they’re intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other.

Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but they’re clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is he’s trying to craft.

He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. It’s easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural.

By the time he arrives at the library, it’s nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. It’s almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesn’t go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesn’t approach people, they often won’t approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out.

From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental.

Strictly speaking, you’re Tadashi’s friend, not his. You’ve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? We’re graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, it’s impermanent.

Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that he’s devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on.

It’s probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei can’t really help it. He can’t change what he is. Besides, it’s not as if he doesn’t have a reason to think so. He’s often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think he’s tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. He’s not heartless, so he’s been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that you’ve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility.

“Thought you might be here,” someone’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Shit,” he groans, “is it that late already?”

Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. He’s been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasn’t gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand.

“Spacing out?”

“A little,” Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book.

“Got something due?”

“Yeah, on Friday,” he exhales. “Haven’t started it yet though. You?”

“Nah,” Tadashi smiles. “I’m just chasing you around.”

“You’re like a girl with a crush.”

Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. It’s a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend.

Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly what’s on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment.

Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because he’s seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei can’t read his handwriting because it’s terrible and he doesn’t much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friend’s hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you.

You’ve got your head down and look like you’re falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that you’ve spotted him staring, it’s too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little.

You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you don’t bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him.

“Hi, Tsukishima,” you smile. “Hi, Tadashi.”

You use his friend’s given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest.

“How long have you been here? I didn’t see you,” you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei.

“I just got here,” Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. “He’s been here for a while though.”

Tadashi motions towards him.

“Aw, why didn’t you say hi?”

“You seemed busy,” Kei lies.

You pout, filling your mouth with air. “Next time just come say hi, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” Kei nods.

Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. He’s not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever.

Kei doesn’t like the way you make him feel. When you’re around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless.

You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like it’s been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? It’s entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack.

You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something he’s written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks he’s having.

The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesn’t know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe it’s both.

“Crap, is that the time?” Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. “I’ve got class across campus in 10 minutes.”

He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Bye, ___,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I’ll see you at home, Kei!”

“Sure,” is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook.

It’s quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture you’re listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Kei’s notebook to get his attention.

It’s only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face.

When he looks up, you’re looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You ask gently. It doesn’t sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness.

“Huh?” Blood rushes into his ears.

“I just kinda get the impression that you’re uncomfortable around me,” you say. “Am I wrong?”

“Uh, no- it’s not that I don’t like you.”

He’s quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks.

“Then what?” you question lightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy.

“I dunno,” he calms himself a little. “I don’t really know how to act around you, I guess.”

You laugh, leaning back into your chair. “Is that all?”

“Well, yeah…” he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. “You’re Tadashi’s friend and I’m pretty different from him so I just…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“I was worried you hated me,” you smile, chuckling to yourself.

“That’s definitely not it,” he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily.

“I’m your friend too, ya know?”

“That so?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. “I just kinda figured that we would be.”

“Friends?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward.

“Duh,” you laugh a little. “You know, you don’t have to speak formally with me.”

“That’s just the way I am,” he huffs at being read.

“Well, you can drop them with me. I don’t mind.”

“Tall order,” he snorts.

You tilt your head to the side. “Did you just make a joke?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Funny,” you smile. “What are you studying?”

“It’s not really studying…” he says, glancing down at the near empty document. “I’m supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.”

He looks up at you through his lashes. You’re leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at what’s on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better.

“Baroque art?” You read aloud. “Oh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that you’re an art history major. Do you draw too?”

“No,” he scoffs. “I’m hopeless at it, but I like art. It’s nice to look at.”

“Huh, you look like you’d be good at drawing,” you say.

“What’s that mean?”

“I dunno, like a manga author or something,” you shrug. “You’ve got nice hands too. Like an artist.”

“Manga?” He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment.

“Yeah, you look like the manga type.”

“Is it the glasses?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you laugh.

Kei looks down at his hands. They’re big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. He’s hyper-aware of them now that you’ve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. They’re trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashi’s. Tadashi’s fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his.

—

There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. It’s only a bit bigger than his fist—a little thing, really—and it’s completely blank. Kei’s never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. It’s got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. It’s malleable, but not so flimsy that he’d need a desk to write in it.

Kei’s not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. It’s practical, much like he is. He’s considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isn’t much of a list guy, it’s Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. He’s considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesn’t think there’s anything worth writing about.

No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason, not that he’s about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didn’t really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must.

People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, that’s how it seems. He’s always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that they’re really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what he’s feeling rather quickly. He’s not too sure why that is, maybe he’s just obvious and hasn’t realized it.

Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, he’d been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldn’t even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, he’d simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldn’t even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression.

To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like he’ll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat.

Tadashi knows this about him and if it weren’t for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. It’s nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. He’s always known that he’s had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesn’t need to be told that he’s smug to know that he is. He’s snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. It’s not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like it’s been worse.

Maybe it’s because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. It’s not because he doesn’t think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesn’t find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, it’s easier to get on his nerves.

He’s dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. He’s not sure why he does. Sometimes it’s because he thinks they’re pretty, other times it’s because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has.

Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. He’s too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like it’s ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings.

If he’s being honest, it’s given him a twisted inferiority complex. He’s worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, he’s not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that he’s just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy.

Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. He’s just a little awkward. That’s all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. It’s a peeve of Kei’s.

Tadashi isn’t like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that he’d ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashi’s not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him.

Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that he’s had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isn’t exactly sure what would have become of him.

It’s pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better won’t automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Kei’s learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you.

Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesn’t think it would have any effect on the fact that he’s definitely developed a crush. He’s positive it will go away. In fact, he’s not even sure if it’s real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way he’s jealous of Tadashi. You’re bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well.

In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, he’d have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesn’t have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesn’t have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesn’t want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesn’t have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory.

—

Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesn’t like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that he’s touchy, that he’s awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesn’t mean that he has to acknowledge it.

You’ve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe you’re more comfortable now knowing that he doesn’t hate you, so you’re happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment.

Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person he’s ever done that for is Tadashi.

He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition he’s yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesn’t want you to hate him. He thinks he’d die if you hated him. Kei’s being brave in his own way. It’s little, but he’s doing it.

As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when you’re not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. That’s a lot for Kei to think about.

Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him.

Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, you’ll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that he’s not wildly nervous at your proximity. You’re so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. You’re a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is.

His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that he’s actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You don’t seem to think that he’s anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesn’t want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like he’s reversed what’s been done to him his whole life, like somehow he’s only become your friend because he wants something more.

Truth is though, he doesn’t want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesn’t want his crush to develop any further. He doesn’t want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesn’t feel anything at all for you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head at him.

“Huh? Me?” He questions. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem a little distracted,” you smile. “You’ve been staring at your computer for like… 10 minutes with this blank look on your face.”

“You’ve been staring at me for 10 minutes?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that.

“Not staring at you,” you huff, “but I definitely noticed.”

“Ha, creep,” he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose.

“You’re twisted, you know?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work.

Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinata’s height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that he’s so twisted. He’s been hearing that sort of thing his entire life.

“Hey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?” You ask a few moments later.

“Oh, yeah sure. I don’t mind,” he nods, hiding his disappointment. “I didn’t realize that we had like… set times to be here.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, we don’t, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.”

Kei envies your honesty. You’re so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things.

“You’ll be home on Friday night, right?”

“Uhm, yeah? Why?”

“Tadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?”

“I think he mentioned it.” Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days.

“Good, I’ll see you, right?”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Great, talk to you later then!” You smile and with that, you walk away.

You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei can’t help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards.

Kei can’t tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. It’s probably both. It’s probably some mix of the two that he can’t quite sort out. He wishes it weren’t that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined.

So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell they’re a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. That’s something you haven’t done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous.

It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, you’re you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense.

Turns out, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t feel anything when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering.

—

Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, it’s overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up.

It’s not like you’ll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and that’s close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when you’re here, he’ll be wondering if there’s something else that he missed beyond the closed door and he’ll think about it incessantly.

He’s been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. It’s not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that it’s stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that he’s creepy because of it?

He doesn’t get to be upset over the idea that you’re seeing someone else. Why wouldn’t you be? Kei’s done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesn’t hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one.

Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesn’t want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. It’s not your fault, nor is it the person Kei’s convinced himself you’re seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it can’t be himself.

The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. He’d never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. He’s afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him.

Kei’s got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesn’t quite like you at all. It’s not your fault. He’s just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. He’s confused. He’s jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. That’s all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like he’s being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking.

Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. He’s forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over.

—

He’s not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, that’s a lunatic’s idea.

Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashi’s shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him.

Kei doesn’t want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze.

“Is there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?” Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Kei’s feet and roll around before settling.

“What are you talking about? I was normal,” he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips.

“Bullshit,” Tadashi says. “You were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and you’ve been one to me all day.”

Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, “I’ve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? You’re closer to all of them than I am.”

“What? You’re tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?”

“No,” Kei responds.

“So then what was that?”

Kei doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. It’s true, he’d been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why he’d acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. He’d sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it.

It’s not as if he’d been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesn’t want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst.

It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Kei’d been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously.

It’s no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight.

You’d been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, he’s endlessly embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that. You’d been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that he’d learned later that evening that wasn’t even true.

Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship.

You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. It’s an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when he’s in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at.

For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise he’d gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying.

He’d picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Kei’s not proud of it, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up.

Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions he’d rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, it’s cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanaka’s voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei can’t help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could.

Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts.

“I thought you liked them, dude,” his voice is even, letting up on the anger.

“Who?” Kei plays dumb.

Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. “I thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Kei says. It’s the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own.

“Why did you ignore them then?”

“I didn’t ignore them,” Kei says. Again, it’s not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldn’t ignore you if he tried, it’s sort of the whole problem he’s dealing with now.

“Maybe, but you were cold. Like… needlessly.”

“I was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,” Kei spits.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? I know you and I know that shit wasn’t normal. You’re twisted, but you’re not an outright asshole, Kei. What’s going on?”

“I was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didn’t bounce around or get rowdy, doesn’t mean that something is wrong,” Kei answers.

“Yeah, but you were like… majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Don’t you like them? Don’t you want to be nice to them?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want to be nice to them?” Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“No, not that. I don’t like them like that anymore,” Kei lies.

“Oh please, that’s such horseshit,” Tadashi laughs bitterly.

“Get off my ass, Tadashi. I don’t fucking feel that way about them anymore,” Kei insists.

“Did something happen?”

“No, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just don’t like them,” Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesn’t deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight.

Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it.

“Jesus, Kei, you’ve got to stop doing this shit,” Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead.

“Doing what?”

“Getting all in your head about every single connection you’ve ever had with a person,” Tadashi raises his voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!”

“I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!” Tadashi exhales.

“I’ve never done that deliberately! What does someone else’s actions have to do with me?”

“It doesn’t have to do with you,” Tadashi says, “It has to do with your parents.”

The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. “Not every relationship is like your parents’, Kei.”

Tadashi knows he’s stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadn’t registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashi’s usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty.

“Shit-” Tadashi starts towards him. “Kei, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’m just pissed off I didn’t mean to-”

Kei pushes past him. “Tadashi, I know you mean well, but don’t try to tell me about my fucking parents.”

Tadashi doesn’t try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.

—

Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it.

He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Kei’s lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames he’d swept from the floor.

Kei’s parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each other’s throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well.

Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy.

His parents got married at 19, thinking that they’d be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, that’s what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom.

They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his father’s marital “solution” in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place.

Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. They’d make digs, do things to get under the other’s skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person they’d decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price.

They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that it’s not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Kei’s father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because.

It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. That’s just the way it goes.

The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers.

Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories they’d decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house.

He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him.

“Are mom and dad gonna get divorced?” Kei had asked through sniffles.

“Divorced? No, no,” Akiteru answered. “It’s just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.”

“It’s normal?” Kei sniffled.

Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadn’t.

“Yeah, it’s normal.”

Normal. Kei realizes that he doesn’t exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things he’s picked up from watching them. Some role models they were.

He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that he’d been an asshole tonight. He’ll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that he’d acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, he’s his parents’ son alright.

Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. It’s a clear night, but he can’t see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. It’s a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise.

“Kei,” a familiar voice calls from in front of him.

You’re a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Thought you went home,” he says.

“Yeah well, I had intended to,” you start, “but you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?”

Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but you’re the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kei answers automatically.

“Just decided on some fresh air?” You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose.

“Yup, that’s exactly it.”

You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesn’t make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Strangely, tonight he doesn’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he’s too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when you’re around. Maybe it’s because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. It’s a small hope, but it’s there.

“Hey,” your voice comes quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, I’m a pretty good ear.”

Kei nods a little.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “about tonight.”

“I didn’t come here for an apology, you know?” You exhale a little.

“Yeah, but you deserve one,” he says. “I was pretty shitty to you.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agree, catching Kei off guard, “but it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just can’t keep them inside, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, swallowing down his shame.

There’s another long silence. You don’t move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence.

“I fought with Tadashi,” Kei says after a few minutes.

“Today?”

“Yeah, tonight. After everyone left,” he says. “I deserved it though. I’ve been pretty shitty to him all day.”

You hum, leaning back on your hands.

“I did the same shit in high school too, you know?” Kei starts. “We’ve uhm- we’ve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.”

Kei isn’t sure why he’s telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage.

“You bullied him?” You ask, a little surprised.

Kei shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,” he admits, a little defeated.

“Did you ever apologize?”

Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity.

“For what you did in school?”

He nods. “Countless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.”

“You know, stuff like this happens,” you say. “When I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. I’d hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and I’d get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.”

Kei laughs. It’s strikingly similar to what’s happening now, not that you’d have any way of knowing.

“I can’t imagine you doing that,” he says.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I still get weird over it sometimes.”

Kei shakes his head a little, smiling.

“All that I’m saying is that sometimes we slip up, that’s all. It’s normal,” you continue. “Not that I’m condoning it. Just saying that it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you human.”

“Thanks,” he says softly.

“No problem,” you respond.

“So why’d you fight with him tonight?”

“He was angry with me because I was an asshole,” Kei shrugs.

“And you’re mad that he called you out?” You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh.

Kei shakes his head. “No, I’m angry about what he said after.”

“What’d he say?”

Kei debates on telling you. He doesn’t want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that.

“The argument kind of switched subjects,” Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. “He brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.”

“Okay,” you say, waiting for him to say more.

“Remember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?” When you nod, Kei continues. “My parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.”

You nod again, your eyes wide.

“He didn’t mean any harm, I know that,” Kei inhales. “But uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, it’s stuck with me and I didn’t like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. I’m not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.”

“Sure,” you say. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

Kei shrugs. “It’s in the past. They’re both remarried now with new kids.”

The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesn’t think they have any business having more children. Maybe they’re capable of being good for them, but Kei doesn’t like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasn’t the problem, but he and Akiteru were.

“You say that like they got a new pet,” you smile a little. “Are you still in touch with them?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I visit whenever I go back home, though they’re really not too far from here.”

“That’s good of you.”

“Well, they are my parents,” Kei says plainly.

You’re the only other person he’s divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. It’s like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate.

“Yeah, but you’re allowed to feel what you feel about it,” you say. “My mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. I’m still angry at her for it.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You shrug and offer him a wry smile. “It’s in the past, but I’m still angry even though I shouldn’t be.”

“At her?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “She made a stupid mistake that we’re constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.”

Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei can’t imagine what he’d do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still can’t think about a world where he doesn’t visit home to have his mother’s cooking. That’s a world that you live in.

“That’s hard.” It’s all Kei can think to offer.

“It was,” you say. “Got easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.”

Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and he’s been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose.

“Anyway, about tonight,” you say, “it’s not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, that’s what we’re here for. It’s easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Kei says, looking to face you. “Thank you.”

You’re so pretty. It’s striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, he’s grateful that you showed up. You’re good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom.

“You should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,” you say, standing up. “Plus,” you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, “your nose looks like a cherry tomato.”

“Rude,” he says, startled by the sudden touch.

“Payback,” you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes.

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own.

“I’d love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I don’t live very far,” you respond. “I’ll call you when I get home though, okay? Since you’re so worried.”

Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. “Yeah, I am.”

His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say. “Thanks for the apology”

“Anytime.”

“I hope not,” you laugh and Kei follows suit.

You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave.

Kei doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what he’s doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater.

“You can call even if it’s not to tell me you got home safe,” he says. “If you want to.”

You squeeze him around the middle. “Okay, I will.”

When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.

“Thanks for coming back,” he says. “Get home safe.”

“Of course,” you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. “And I will.”

Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it.

“Expect a call!”

Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.

He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When you’re out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You don’t come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation.

He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.

“Kei, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry,” Kei says. “I know. I’m sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.”

“High school?” Tadashi says, confused. “Why are you bringing up high school?”

“Just wanted to apologize again.”

Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before.

“I didn’t mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,” Tadashi says. “I was out of line.”

“So was I,” Kei admits through a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’ll apologize to the others in the morning.”

Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom.

“Hey, Kei,” his voice comes out a little louder this time. “You’re being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?”

Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. “I just had some time to think, that’s all. And yeah, we’re good.”

“Okay, are you good?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kei says.

Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision.

“By the way,” Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. “I lied. I do like them.”

“Could have guessed as much,” he responds, laughing a little. “See you in the morning.”

“Yup, see you in the morning.”

Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up.

When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I got home safe,” he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines you’re lying the same way he is.

“Good, I’m glad,” he says. “No trouble?”

“No trouble at all,” you say. He can hear your smile.

“Thanks again for coming back tonight,” he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face.

“Of course,” you say.

He doesn’t know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like you’re whispering directly into his ear.

“Okay, well I’m going to go to bed,” Kei starts.

“Kei?” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” he swallows.

“I feel a lot closer to you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Goodnight, Kei,” you practically whisper.

“Goodnight,” he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends.

He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. He’d been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, he’s certain of the opposite.

He decides that he’ll like you for real this time. Even if he’s afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.

Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger you’d admitted to him and the grace you’d given him in his own circumstances.

He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.

—

Kei’s apologies go smoothly. Tadashi’s friends—his friends—are good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands.

He’d explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. He’s easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei won’t try to tell him otherwise.

You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes it’s to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, it’s not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out.

There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it.

He’s noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. He’s noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. He’s noticed that when you’re studying, you’ll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you.

Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. He’s self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that he’s probably the least put together he’s ever been.

When you’re around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that he’s that far off from one.

Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that he’s able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. He’s cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it.

The coffee shop he’s visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen.

You’d brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei can’t help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, you’ll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up.

Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that he’s hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasn’t touched in about 10 minutes. He’s been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when you’re focused.

“You’d get a lot more done if you stopped staring,” you say, not looking up from your notebook.

Kei chokes on his exhale. “What?”

You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, you’re pretty.

“The document?” You chuckle. “You’re not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.”

“Oh,” Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just can’t seem to focus.”

“What’s the paper on?” You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table.

“It’s not really a paper,” he says. “It’s a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.”

“Is that the one without the arms?”

“No, but they come from the same family of statues,” Kei smiles a little.

You hum a bit. “Do you like it?”

“Like, do I think the statue’s pretty?” Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. “Yeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.”

“Why?”

“Well, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?” He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. “But this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. She’s trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. It’s meant to be humiliating.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.”

Kei laughs a little. “Yeah, I think it’s just a bit more interesting.”

“Why did you choose to study art history?” You question, leaning forward on your elbows.

Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesn’t like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him.

“Probably because I’m no good at art,” he smiles a little.

“Such a shame, what with your artist’s hands and all,” you reach across the table and tap his knuckle.

Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks.

“You’re no good at art, so you study art history instead?” You press for more.

“Yeah,” he says. “I like things that people make with their hands. There’s a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.”

You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck.

“Why are you studying molecular bio?” He changes the subject.

You shrug your shoulders. “I want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.”

Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up.

“Plus,” you continue, “I wanted to show off a little bit.”

“So you put yourself through four years of torture?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yup, I’m a huge masochist,” you grin.

“You STEM kids are unbearable, you know?” Kei snorts.

“But you like me anyway, yeah?”

Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work.

It’s true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether he’s noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment.

That’s probably why he doesn’t want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. He’s content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldn’t do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle he’s waged in his mind over the last few months. He’s too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept.

Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. You’re easy to like. It’s easy for him to picture touching you. It’s easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. You’re easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei can’t do. It’s not hard to find things to admire.

Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like?

A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesn’t think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesn’t mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants.

—

It’s a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. He’d even venture to say that it’s good.

Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, it’ll become the most eye-catching thing on the street.

Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. It’s so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches don’t look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either.

There was a tree like this outside of Kei’s childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. He’d press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didn’t get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same.

“Thinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?”

He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity.

“Jesus,” Kei turns, “you need a bell or something.”

“You’re the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,” you laugh a little.

Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on.

“Where’re you headed?” he questions.

“Dropping off an assignment,” you smile lightly, “wanna come with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve got a class in 15.”

“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,” you shrug. “We’ll make it.”

“We?” Kei raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. It’s a win-win.”

“Sounds like I’m just doing a lot of extra walking,” Kei snorts.

“Yeah, but you get to do it with me so it’ll be more fun.”

Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. It’s an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesn’t like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it.

It’s strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and he’s more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick.

The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Kei’s palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this.

“Hey, about tonight,” you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow.

You’re supposed to come over. It’s the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood.

“Yeah?”

“So, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,” you give him a sheepish grin, “and they may have asked to come and I definitely told them ‘the more the merrier’.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kei’s a little disappointed. “So they’re coming too?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” You furrow your eyebrows.

Kei can’t very well come out and say that it isn’t, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesn’t want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that he’s ‘in like’.

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely.

“I dunno, you’re not really a fan of bigger groups right?”

“Not really,” Kei shrugs, “but I’ve known them for a while so it doesn’t count.”

You nod your head and then smile. “Great! Now, where is your class?”

“Social Sciences,” Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. “In about… four minutes.”

“Wanna run? Can’t be late, can you?”

Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. You’re faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe he’d been holding it while watching you run.

You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction.

“Have a good class!” You call.

“What’s the rush?” he questions.

“I’ve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.” Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs.

That’s the thing about you that Kei can’t get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than he’s ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isn’t food, a feeling Kei hasn’t experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger.

—

Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight.

“Sorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,” Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room.

“It’s not like that,” Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out.

“Sure it isn’t,” he laughs.

“I’m serious dude,” Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him.

“You wanted to hang out with them alone, right?” Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck.

“I just said it wasn’t like that!”

Tadashi gives an even laugh. “You’re the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.”

Heat floods Kei’s face, painting it red.

“Caught ya,” Tadashi smiles.

“When the hell are you moving out?” Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh.

“Not until you do. You’re stuck with me.”

“Not if I kill you,” Kei doesn’t smile when he says this.

Tadashi barks a laugh. “So what changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,” Tadashi says. “Nothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.”

“I was kidding before but now I’m serious. I really will kill you.”

Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesn’t say anything, intruding on Kei’s space until he gives an answer.

“I just got tired of it, that’s all,” Kei says evenly, though it’s a little hard to admit.

“Tired of what?”

“Pretending,” he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway.

“Because of them?”

“No,” he starts. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can you leave now?”

Tadashi shakes his head. “Too curious to leave.”

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Kei grumbles. “I got tired of pretending I didn’t want them.”

“Not like you were very good at pretending,” Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look.

He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. “Okay, fine. I’m gone now.”

“They’ll be here in an hour or so, by the way,” Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that he’s heard him as he leaves the room.

Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. It’s empty, but Kei likes the look of it.

The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that he’s gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. It’s a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. He’d not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his father’s.

He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Kei’s curly hair is somewhat unruly. It’s hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he can’t seem to keep down. It’s gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond.

Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and he’s never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though they’re only a cheap pair that he’d found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced.

He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, he’d stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Two’s family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that he’s a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original.

Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times you’ve all piled into his living room.

“Where’s Kei?” He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum.

That’s why. It’s because this time, you’ve come here to see him specifically. You’re not here to see Tadashi or by chance, you’re here because you’d made plans to see Kei. That’s what makes it different.

You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. You’re smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe it’s because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest.

“Hi,” you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch.

“Hey,” he chokes out.

Kei chides himself for his nerves. He’d been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has.

Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host.

“Tanaka and Kiyoko?” Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop.

“Date night,” Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. “So annoying.”

He groans about Kiyoko, someone he’s all but worshiped since high school.

“You’re just mad it isn’t you,” Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin.

“Not true,” Noya argues. “I am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I can’t come. It’s like I lost a bro.”

“You’re so overreacting,” Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. “They’re here most of the time.”

“Yeah, most but not all,” Noya pouts.

“Give the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?” Tadashi laughs.

Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that he’s gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else.

“They’re different and you know it,” Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth.

You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Kei’s.

“Who’re Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?” You ask softly.

“You’ve never met?” Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug.

“Maybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.”

“They’re friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but they’re two years older.”

“Okay, so one year older than me?”

Kei blinks a few times. “You’re a year older than me?”

“Yeah?” You laugh a little like it’s obvious.

“But aren’t you a fourth year?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I took a year off before starting college,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thought that I had to get my sillies out.”

“Your sillies?” Kei laughs a little.

“Yeah,” you smile, “and I had to save up some money. It makes the world go ‘round, you know?”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can.

It’s only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. He’s tilting his head down to hear you better and you’re leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadn’t even realized had crept up on him.

“I was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,” you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair.

This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans.

They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Kei’s more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, it’s still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Kei’s relentless prodding of Kageyama’s easily pushed buttons.

You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene.

Still though, despite the fun he’s having, Kei’s battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. It’s not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it.

He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. They’re clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldn’t have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.

Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei.

“Done already?” You lean your hip against the counter.

“With what?” Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body.

“Hanging out,” you smile lightly.

“Not really,” he says. “Just needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.”

“Wanna go sit outside for a bit then?”

Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. He’d hate to be stopped on the way.

“Relax,” you laugh. “They’re so caught up they won’t even notice that we’re gone.”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. It’s the same place you’d come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then.

It’s a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves.

You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response.

“Sorry again about bringing the troops here,” you speak first.

“That’s really okay,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.”

You snort. “I hope so.”

Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like he’s going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away.

“Kind of a bummer though,” you start, “I was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.”

Kei’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage.

“We hang out all the time though,” he says like it’s enough. Of course it’s not enough.

“Guess so,” you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice.

“You know,” he starts, already embarrassed at what he’s going to admit. “I wanted to be your friend for a while.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. “Why?”

Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. It’s embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them.

“You kind of reminded me of Tadashi,” he says. “And you both got along so well.”

“Tadashi? I’m nothing like Tadashi,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What? No, you two are so similar,” Kei insists, lacing his fingers together.

“What about us is so similar?”

“Well, you’re both sociable and warm and…” Kei trails off. He can’t really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes.

“See?”

Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. He’d been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, he’s never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow.

“We’re nothing like each other,” you laugh and lean back against your palms. “Though, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.”

Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesn’t want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. If you’re like Kei, then Kei doesn’t have to be afraid of showing you the worst. You’ll have already seen it. If you’re like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him?

“Even if you’re not like Tadashi, that’s fine.” His cheeks burn.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I like you all the same,” he admits quietly.

“The same? As Tadashi?” You purse your lips a little. “I thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?”

Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like they’ve separated from his body. Anything he’d thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. You’re so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. You’re so close and you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for something, implying that somehow you’re different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend.

“No, you’re different,” he says, taking the bait you’ve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he can’t look at you. He thinks he’ll kiss you if he does.

“Am I?”

Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what you’re saying sound honeyed and curved.

“Yeah, you are.”

“How so?”

Kei finally raises his head to look at you. You’re grinning, leaning towards him like you’re watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesn’t know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesn’t think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that he’s still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do.

Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. It’s awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same.

He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe that’s what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more.

Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. There’s hunger within him, the need to take more than what he’s receiving and a greed he isn’t quite familiar with, but there’s also romance. It’s like a spell that’s yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that they’re all that he can feel right now.

The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, you’re both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. It’s a temporary fix, but it’s enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next.

“I think I’m in really hot water,” he squeaks.

“What do you mean?” You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you.

“I think I want you way more than I thought I did,” he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you.

You smile a little before speaking. “I think it’s only hot water if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

Your face is still so close to his. “Yeah?”

It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. He’s so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you don’t feel the same way.

Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. “Yeah.”

You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. He’s so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he can’t name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more.

Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“We should go back inside, I think,” you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. “The others might think something’s up and Tanaka isn’t exactly good with discretion.”

Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesn’t know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly.

You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him.

Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. He’s tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought.

“Where’d you guys go?” Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him.

In the time you’d both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over people’s bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him.

Kei doesn’t know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? He’s not even sure that he remembers.

“I wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,” you answer evenly. “Why? You jealous?”

“Of inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.” Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldn’t voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them.

“Aw, man, I thought you quit?” Hinata pipes up, tilting his head.

“I did, hot stuff,” you respond, sitting down on the couch. “Don’t worry. I won’t smoke anymore.”

Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you.

His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. You’re so close to him again, closer than before, and he can’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. He’s desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it.

You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. It’s like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesn’t stick his ground, he’ll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way he’s desperate to now.

After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things they’d been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation.

“Hey, we’re going out to the bars. Who’s coming?” Hinata speaks up.

A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.

“I think I’ll probably stay back and start cleaning,” he says somewhat disdainfully. “It’s a mess in here,” Kei tosses you a small glance. It’s unintentional but he’s glad for it because Kei is hoping that you’ll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off.

“I’ll stay and help too. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,” you smile and Hinata pouts.

“You guys are so boring,” he protests. “Leave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.”

“I’ll pass, pipsqueak,” Kei scoffs.

“Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re full of regret tomorrow,” he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. “And you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Do you hear that?” You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. “I think it’s the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.”

“You guys are so full of shit-” Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out.

“Yeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The rope is so taut between you both that it’s unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei.

“We’re not cleaning, right?”

Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours.

This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. It’s fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it.

There’s an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that you’ve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth.

Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if he’s leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than he’d expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull.

You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Kei’s hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Kei’s never been one to want this way, but right now, it’s all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself.

You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall.

He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering.

Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. You’re so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability.

He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip.

He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, he’s overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. It’s hot and your breath fans across his face.

Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Kei’s hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt.

His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs.

You’re so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei can’t articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and he’s grown hard against the bedspread beneath him.

“Touch me,” you breathe out.

Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and it’s with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he won’t get to see the way you stick to them.

When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Kei’s nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread.

He slides his palm to rest over your center. It’s warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him.

You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like he’s asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Kei’s pillows.

Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Kei’s stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear.

He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if you’ve cum. He wonders if he’s sent you over the edge, but if he has, you’re taking all of it so well that he doesn’t dare stop.

The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it.

He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. It’s so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Kei’s pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. He’s sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise.

The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time.

You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make.

“K-Kei wait, wait,” you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesn’t think you mean to hurt him, but it doesn’t matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants.

“Huh?” He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. “You okay?”

“I’ll cum if you keep going like that,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like you’re still on the edge. “Drag it out for me, yeah?”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.

“Cum if you want to.” He tilts his head down to reattach his lips.

“Not yet,” you tug at his hair. “I like chasing it.”

Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy.

“Come here,” you coax him onto the mattress.

Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump.

You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei can’t stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response.

“You don’t have to,” he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down.

“But I want to,” you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick.

Kei’s head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock.

For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didn’t think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him.

Your mouth is so warm and wet. It’s a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming.

Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until he’s bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. There’s nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesn’t take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei can’t help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, red faced and panting, “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly, you’re just-”

“It’s fine,” you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. “I like making you feel good.”

“Yeah but-”

“No buts,” you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. “There’s still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?”

He nods and you lean down to do as you’d asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like you’re trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die.

He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like he’s tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy.

Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings.

You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. You’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin.

Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and there’s a pause in which Kei doesn’t know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesn’t know what to do. Kei’s thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward.

His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Kei’d almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that you’re looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory.

“What?” he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation.

“Your face is red,” you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek.

Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.

“No,” you pick his chin up. “I like it. It’s cute.”

You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes you’re sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him.

“Christ,” he groans.

You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go.

Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. There’s something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when he’s buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick.

His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Kei’s first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. He’d grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei can’t describe, something fulfilling and whole.

He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you can’t quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips.

“I really like you,” you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks.

Kei’s heart hammers and his hips stutter a little.

“Me too,” he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you.

“Are you close again?” you breathe, voice laden with pleasure.

“I have been since we started,” Kei admits.

“Cum then,” you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.

“You first,” he mutters.

There’s this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks it’s a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, it’s just because he thinks it’ll look hot.

He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way.

Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. You’re so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy.

He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch.

He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. There’s pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.

He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. It’s gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste.

You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, you’re already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest.

There’s a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath.

His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since everyone left, nor does he know when they’ll be back, but he estimates that it won’t be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” Kei admits quietly.

“What stuff?” You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen.

“Liking people,” he says. “Dating.”

You give a small laugh. “No offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Duh,” you breathe out. “It’s a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.”

So it’s true. You like the parts of Kei that he’s always worried were the worst of him.

“Huh,” he says. “Could you tell?”

“That you like me?” You ask, shifting your head to look at him. “Yeah, it was obvious after we established that you didn’t hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.”

“Really? I thought I was being a little slick with that,” Kei feels heat and color flood his face.

You let out a good-natured laugh. “People can always tell when someone’s staring, Kei. It’s like a sixth sense.”

“Good to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.”

Another bout of silence follows.

“You can keep staring though,” you say, “if you want to. And calling.”

“Okay,” Kei responds, “I didn’t really plan on stopping.”

“Ha, freaky,” you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. “Wanna start going out?”

Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things.

“I think I’d be a little upset if we didn’t,” he admits.

“Good,” you say. “Me too.”

He’s fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest that’s falling over him. Kei knows you’re fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet.

“We should… really get up to clean just a little,” he mumbles.

“Five more minutes,” you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness.

“Okay,” he says.

It’s just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer.

—

There’s a period after which Kei doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. You’re gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing.

It’s all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that it’s easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin.

At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. That’s how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance.

Kei discovers that he’s possessive. That’s a new trait of his that he didn’t know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, he’d been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesn’t really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that.

This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, it’s been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. He’d worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you.

“Kei,” you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?”

He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You give him a wry smile. “This was your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,” he breathes, “My parents aren’t exactly easy.”

“You want to cancel?” You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to meet them.”

The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, he’d forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. You’re too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei can’t see it any other way, though he’d like to.

You snort. “What does that even mean?”

Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look.

“Okay, sorry,” you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s going to be okay. I’m excited.”

Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. “Excited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?”

“Yup. I’m excited to meet the people who raised you.”

Kei smiles a little. “You should meet Akiteru, then,” It’s an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea.

You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. There’s an understanding that passes from you to him, like you’re acknowledging that you haven’t forgotten what he’d told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little.

His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. It’s a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. He’s surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive.

“Kei,” his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.

“Hi Mom,” Kei responds and she gives him a small smile.

Kei’s dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one he’s had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder.

“Guys,” he inhales, “This is my partner, _____.”

You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like you’ve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face.

“We’re so happy to meet you,” his mother starts, “Kei’s never introduced us to any of his partners before.”

“I’m the first?” You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him.

“There really haven’t been that many to begin with,” Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better.

You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his university’s graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.

There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away.

He’d expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldn’t they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.

It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes haven’t been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why can’t he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi?

“I think that went well,” you say softly on the drive back.

Kei nods his agreement. “I think so too.”

You don’t bring up the fact that they didn’t fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You don’t accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was.

“I’m glad that I got to meet them,” you say. “You look so much like your mom.”

“Really?” Kei asks.

“Yeah, you’ve got her eyes and her nose,” you smile a little. “It makes you two look similar.”

“Huh,” he says. “I never really gave that much thought.”

Kei turns the idea that he has his mother’s face over in his head. He’d spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that he’s just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when he’s trying to love. But he has his mother’s eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. It’s like evidence.

“You don’t really act like them though,” you say as if on cue. “You’re a little gentler.”

“Me? Gentle?” Kei scoffs.

“Yeah!” you say. “I mean, sure you’re prickly, but there’s a goodness to you that’s really obvious if you look.”

Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if there’s any goodness in him, if there’s anything that hasn’t been tainted by his parents’ sour personalities, it’s from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that.

“That’s a relief,” he admits in a flat tone.

After a long pause, he speaks again. “Thanks.”

“For what?” You laugh.

“Bearing with me… and with them,” he says. “Couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was easy,” you say. “Because I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.”

Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complex’s garage.

“You say that stuff so easily,” he huffs.

“What? That I care about you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I do,” you laugh a little.

Kei’s face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition.

“Me too,” he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. “Sorry that I don’t say it a lot.”

“Not to be rude,” you say, “but even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. You’re kind of a sucker.”

Kei supposes that that’s true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway.

—

You’re half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his.

He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something he’s familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children they’re raising properly. They’re good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too.

Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isn’t quite beyond him yet. He’s unsure, in fact, if he’ll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldn’t see just how bad it made them.

Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little.

In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if it’s for you. He’ll bear the brunt of it. He’ll put in the work.

Yes, Kei is his parents’ son, but he’s also Tadashi’s friend, Akiteru’s brother, the person who loves you. He doesn’t live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore.

“Are you awake?” He whispers across the pillow.

“Mhm,” you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.

“Let’s move in together,” he says.

You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds. “I want to live with you.”

“Okay then,” you smile a little. “Let’s do it.”

—

In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier.

And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesn’t want to wake you, not before he’s made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box it’s been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. It’s a good enough reason, a good enough change.

The notebook theory.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader smut #tsukishima kei x reader smut #hq x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei fic #[ 📕 – writing ]#she is finally finished i hope u enjoy and that u find it romantic and fulfilling #tw: overstimulation #i may add more warnings and such if i remember to #and pls lmk if i forgot any

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stuckinapril · 2 years ago

Note

how to feel like a person?

digital detox. if your phone was taken away, how much free time would you have? how empty would your day be? do you have things to do outside of scrolling endlessly on different apps? if you come to the realization that a lot of your time consists of being glued to your screen, you need to start considering incorporating no-phone time blocks into your day. a big part of our daily misery boils down to consuming so many things in 24 hours, to the point that we feel too burned out to do anything else that truly nourishes our body and soul.

establish a routine. discipline is so important for happiness. start out small—schedule your day, get consistent with your skincare routine, take daily walks—and then gradually add more and more things. don’t try to revamp your life all at once. that’s a surefire way to quit altogether. be realistic about your limits, but also push yourself where appropriate so you don’t stay static.

journal. mentalize your feelings. don’t suppress your emotions. be curious about your thought processes and what makes you tick. always be self-compassionate, but hold yourself accountable where it’s due.

start pursuing hobbies. make a list of all the things that interest you and try them out. there are so many things out out there; one of them is bound to stick. don’t go into it with the negative mindset that you know you wouldn’t like doing x and y. some things you might know in your heart are not for you, but don’t rule out possibilities you’re ambivalent about. be open-minded and see finding your interests not as a chore, but as an exciting prospect.

practice gratitude. this is such a popular advice bc it works. start off your day by listing 3 things you’re grateful for. it’s crazy how so many people don’t realize it’s a blessing to just be alive, when so many people get robbed of their lives so early on. i’m not saying to never shoot for more, but having a foundation of contentment goes a very long way.

have a solid set of friends, but march your own march. you don’t need anybody; you just want them. same thing with friends. friends are good for us because we are a social species, but if one person were to leave your life, it’s not the end of the world. your life is already colorful, filled with so many things you’re doing for yourself—furthering your career, improving on your skills, working on your fitness—that a person leaving shouldn’t be detrimental. never be so dependent on someone you can’t envision a life without them. you need to make your life exciting on your own; you can’t have someone else doing all the heavy lifting for you.

have an abundance mindset. if one thing fails, that just leaves room for something better to take its place. you are always bound to find better. there are 8 billion people in this world. there are countless different possibilities. failure or loss does not mean it’s game over for you.

see pain as a learning experience. true growth spurts do truly come from heartbreak or failure. it teaches us to pick ourselves back up and try again. always have a growth mindset. that relationship didn’t work out? now you know what to avoid for the next relationship. you’re single again? now you get to focus on and learn more about yourself. that friendship ended? at least you won’t waste any more time on someone who doesn’t value having you in their life. you didn’t get that job? that leaves the door open for other possibilities. you didn’t get the score you wanted? now you know what to work on to do better next time.

action-directed things to improve your self-esteem. you can sit in your room all day and tell yourself you’re the best thing since sliced bread and everyone’s obsessed with you, but truly building up your self-esteem comes not only from thinking positive things about yourself, but also acting on them. work on things you care about. work on yourself as a person. love who you are, but also strive for self-improvement. do things that can act as proof—to you—for why you’re worthy. it’s a game changer.

dispense of the victim-of-life mentality. it’s safe to dwell in your misery and keep blaming things on factors out of your control, but where would that get you? it’s just resulting in you expending your energy needlessly. stop seeing life as jumping from tragedy to tragedy. actively fight against your negativity bias. recognize that for every bad thing that happens, 100 good things happen, but we as humans have a tendency of focusing only on the negatives. sort through your emotions, make peace with what happened, but pick yourself up and move on. the most valuable thing we all have on this planet is time. it’s limited and it will come to an end eventually. you don’t want to look back and resent yourself for not simply letting go of things and appreciating what you have around you.

#ask #a

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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago

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hi! I love the way you write and I’d love to see some Daniel Ricciardo or Oscar Piastri content!! Older brother’s best friend and something including model!reader or figureskater!reader. I also cannot begin to describe how much I love your Taylor song based fics. I was hooked on Style and Dress, thank you, have a wonderful day :)

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you don't have much in common with oscar piastri other than three things: you're both rare talents, you know each other through your older brother, and that, unknowingly, you both really like each other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: older brother's best friend trope! (although not heavily enforced), suggestive but nothing crude, poor ice skating knowledge, mentions of the spa track, crashing and DNFing, reader likes to blame things on alcohol, lily (oscar's current gf) is his ex (oops), slight diss of tsitp, jealousy!!!, scene of harassment and a creepy man, a physical altercation in which oscar gets physically hurt, attending the wounded scene! (sobbing rn), a cute and horribly cheesy, fluffy ending!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x figureskater!fem!reader, arthur leclerc x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5k+ (um srry hehe)

𝐀/𝐍: i wanted to this was oscar but since he's kinda young, i did a one year age gap bc the territory of 'the older brother's best friend' for piastri is alarming to say the least. i also assumed it was a female reader due to my other works, hope that and this whole piece is okay!!

𝐏.𝐒: if you couldn't tell, it's loosely based off of taylor swift's 'i can see you' bc i ended up losing track lmao. sorry for taking FOREVER but coming back from holiday, going straight back into uni, and having writer's block is the worst combo 🤧 as usual, poorly proof read!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

In a world of billions, quite strangely yet only logically, there were many talented people across the globe. But very few were be a World Champion let alone the opportunity. You were part of this few. The Youngest World Champion in figure skating in history, a two-time World Champion and the 2022 Olympic winner.

You were a living legacy in your town.

Of course, you couldn't do it without the support of the people you loved. Your parents attended all your competitions. In fact, your father was the one who had brought you to the ice when you were three. And your brother, no matter how much of a menace he was, he was your number one fan. Despite all the things he had to do, he was always there for you.

Your brother was one of those Australian boys who had turned their passion for dirt biking into a career for motorcross racing.

Naturally, he had found a friend who was also very interested in racing. However, instead he loved driving a open wheel single-seater formula racing car at crazy speeds. That friend was Oscar Piastri. A childhood best friend of your brother's and a sort of acquaintance slash family friend of yours.

It worried you two see some of the most important people in your lives risk death almost every day but you enjoyed watching them do something they loved.

You could see it in their eyes when they raced. It was the same passion you had for the ice. The slivers of ice that occasionally touched your skin thrilled you was the same excitement that coursed through the two Aussies when they felt their engines rev.

It was odd. You could've sworn a few days ago, you were all kids playing in the backyard of your house; your brother riding his toy bike while Oscar raced him on foot and you commentated in Oscar's favour to piss your brother off. And now all three of you were leading your careers: you were a competitive figure skater, your brother was slamming the MXGP and Oscar was one of the best rookies introduced to F1 in a while.

Where time had gone... you could not even begin to wonder. Heck, once upon a time you were staring down Oscar in the school hallways because for some reason you could only talk to him outside of school. And now... well, it was complicated to say the least.

You had always liked Oscar. It was difficult not to. He was always around you. The boyish charm, the small smiles, the puppy brown eyes, his offers to help you with your homework, you visiting him when he raced... everything had built up inside you. It was festering.

But that's how you liked it. You didn't want to cross any lines. As heart-racing and flustering as your crush on him was, you could not bear the idea of telling someone who was brotherly to you that you liked him.

It was repulsing.

And as far as his dating history could went, Oscar didn't like you. Oscar wasn't a player but he definitely didn't like being single from what you could tell.

To be honest, considering you didn't see him that much due both of your schedules, nothing between the both of you would've ever happened if you're annual family holiday hadn't happened.

Your family and the Piastri's took time out at least once a year to relax together. And this year, your brother and Oscar's breaks overlapped, and you had persuaded your coach for two weeks off. That was all the both of your parents needed before booking a trip to Greece. Everyone wanted to go when they were younger and now they could finally go.

Two weeks... not much could happen. At least so you thought.

The moment you saw Oscar in Greece, your heart thumped against your chest like it had never before and you knew you were screwed. It was ridiculous. How after all the time did you still like this stupid driver? He was the root cause of your lonely love life. Which for most figure skaters was not a big deal... you had prospect lovers falling left and right. Especially the guys in pair skating. But no... you were head over heels for Oscar out of all people.

With the firm boundaries you had made, you ventured to not make a big deal about what you were feeling and pushed it to the side. But the thing about pushing things away, they have a funny way of coming back up.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On the first night of your much needed vacation, you had found one of the most popular restaurants in Santorini while endlessly browsing through social media and decided to get everyone out of the lovely AirBnB you had rented. Upon arriving, your parents and Oscar's were cooped up on one side of the dining table, leaving the 'kids', as your mother calls you three, on the other.

You released a sigh of content, feeling the crisp breeze dance past your skin in the warm summer evening air while your sip of assyrtiko (Greek white wine) slipped past your throat far too easily. Thank God you had chosen an outdoor restaurant tonight. Every time you were on holiday, you couldn't be more grateful to get away from all the stress. If you could live like this every day, with the warm breezy evenings and the amazing architecture, you would.

"So," your mother started, her voice hitting your direction. You flickered your gaze over to her, raising a brow. "How are my kids' love lives? Are you getting down?" She waggled her eyebrows behind her glasses.

A wave of heat pricked your skin at your mother's words. "Mom!" You hissed out in disbelief while your father and Oscar's parents chuckled.

"What? You guys never tell me anything anymore! I used to be the holder of all your secrets and now... now I am an old woman!" Your mother cried, wiping an invisible tear off of her cheek.

You and your brother blankly looked at her and then towards each other. To say your mother was a character was an understatement. She enjoyed her theatrics far too much for anyone's liking, more specifically you're liking.

Oscar grinned, reaching out his hand to hover over hers. "You could never be an old woman. Always young in my heart."

Your brother snorted at Oscar's cheesiness. After you and your brother, Oscar was your mother's son and Oscar was a suck-up. He liked being in the good books, especially that of your mother's.

"Of course," Your mother chuckled softly, patting Oscar's hand gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What happen to you and Lily? I heard you two broke up? I thought you liked her a lot?"

You could see Oscar tense at the mention of his ex, your own body rigid. It wasn't a surprise to you but you actually hated hearing about Oscar's love life. Unrequited feelings were already a bitch and you didn't need to make it any worse.

Oscar cleared his throat, a small smiling tugging at his lips. "I thought I did too..." He trailed off, falling into his own trance momentarily. Suddenly his eyes flickered around his surroundings before they landed on you. "I guess I just saw something I else I liked a lot more."

A slight shiver crept down your spine and your heart travelled towards your ears. You pressed your lips tightly together, furrowing your brows.

What the fuck?

You snapped your eyes away, firmly placing them on your empty plate that suddenly held your entire world. Oscar had never ever looked at you like that. Any time you looked into those puppy browns, they were usually some mix between happy, anger, annoyance, sadness, humour, and the God forbidden 'I-see-you-as-my-sister' type love.

But this... this was something else entirely. The softness of his gaze, his words, the timing of it all; a perfect execution of sorts... it was a first.

Maybe you had taken one too many sips of the wine. It was the only reasonable explanation behind your obvious hallucination.

Sooner or later, the sun would set, a main reason behind your picking of the restaurant. The parents and your brother were at the front of the house, arguing about who paid for tonight's dinner. You were more than happy to wait it out on the balcony and revel in the last few rays of light, eyes closed and the breeze dancing across your skin.

"Well don't you look happy," Oscar voice stated, nearing you.

You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to the side only to look back a few second later. Oscar and sunsets... you enjoyed that combo far too much for your liking.

"That's because I am. Sometimes being off the ice is refreshing," You told him, taking in a breath of the fresh evening air.

Out of your peripheral vision you could see Oscar tilt his head, eyes raking over you with a small grin tugging at his lips. You ignored the pace of your heart as he nodded at your remark, settling in next you with his hands on the balcony bar, a mere inch away from your own.

"I hear that," Oscar sighed, looking out at the horizon.

You forced yourself to look over at him, trying to read his mind after hearing the burdened sigh he released. "Oscar... I hope you know you're doing well in F1 right now. You're doing pretty good compared to Lando's rookie year."

Oscar smiled gently. You knew him far too well. "I know. I just... I feel like everyone's expecting so much more of me. Podiums... race wins... like everything else I've done. And then Spa came along."

You winced at the mention of the track. Oscar had collided with Carlos on the very first lap. Carlos said Oscar was too optimistic about making that turn and Oscar said that he didn't even know what Carlos doing; that the Spaniard turned as if he wasn't even on the track. Nevertheless, the collision resulted in both of them DNFing.

You snorted. "Spa is a shit track," You dismissed Oscar's current pessimism with a wave of your hand.

Oscar chuckled at your crudeness. He couldn't disagree with you. Spa was one of those tracks which felt auspicious to any driver. The one where you hoped you at least passed the finishing line. It didn't matter what your position was... as long as you passed it, you were okay.

"Guys come on! We've finished paying," Your brother called out.

The both of you turned around. Oscar pushed himself off of the bar, heading towards your brother. "Who won this one?" He asked in amusement, hands gliding past his waist. Ever so gently, in his walk, he teetered towards you, letting his hand brush past your own, sending a tingle down both of you.

You gulped at the racing feeling, immediately pulling your hand closer to yourself. This hairs of your body stood straight and your fingers felt numb. Heck, you felt numb.

Damn, you thought, this is some crazy good wine.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The thing about your inclination to blame everything on the alcohol you consumed was that it only actually worked if you consumed alcohol. You were lucky if you could extend to the remaining bits by a day with the claims of a hangover.

But right now, you were sober as hell.

An unfortunate event, to say the least.

"Y/N, wake up," Oscar's voice pounded against your blanketed, muffled ears.

"Ugh, no" You groaned, cocooning yourself into your blanket and pressing your head further into your pillow, savouring the warmth.

You always had such early mornings when you trained, waking up at ungodly hours only to workout before heading to the rink. Being on the ice was the only thing you loved. Your fans were sweet but everything else after that, the press, the workouts, the food, sucked. So you cherished the late summer morning in Santorini. And no person, let alone a boy who announced his F1 team to you by saying "I'm driving for a papaya", was going to ruin this for you.

Oscar put his hands on his hips, eyeing you with a twitch in his eye. "But breakfast is ready. I cooked!"

You laughed into your sheets lightly. "Oh boy, that's even worse!"

Oscar looked at your peeking head and humoured eyes blankly. "That," he started to say as he began to literally pull you out of your bed by your arms, "is very very rude thing to say to the chef."

"Oscar, no! Let go!" You begged, hands flailing to attach themselves to anything. Falling on the hard cold floor was not the ideal morning for you.

At least not alone.

You jutted out your leg, nudging Oscar's to the side, making him stumble over his steps. As he quickly realised he was losing balance, he threw his body under yours, creating a soft landing for you as you both fell to the floor.

You were laughing too hard to realise Oscar's one hand had even moved to your waist and the other to your head, as if it was to protect you from getting hurt.

"Oh my God! You should've seen your face! It was like–" You turned to mimic his expression but you couldn't find the words. All the air around you had been seized, your throat was dry and you were breathless.

When had Oscar's face become so close to yours?

You couldn't remember the last time you were this close to him. Probably as a child. He was cute back then as well. But growing up changed the both of you. The most apparent reminder of how old you were was the tiny short hairs from his chin that he always tried to shave off. His eyes were still as brown as ever, less big because he grew into his face. And his lips... they were kissable.

His face was also littered with freckles here and there. You didn't even realise your finger had shot out to play connect the dots with them until you could feel his faint warm breath from how close you were.

Your eyes trailed up his face to find his gaze firmly planted on yours. Suddenly you could feel where his hands were and your skin burned at his touch. The current heatwave in Europe had left you in some thin pyjamas. You didn't regret it last night but you definitely regretted wearing them right now.

Hypnotised, you found yourself leaning in naturally. Oscar's head also nudged forward. Your lips were barely a centimetre away from each other. You could hear your name slip out of Oscar's lips as the faintest whisper. Like it was a struggle to say your name because he couldn't think.

His woody and amber scent engulfed you and for a second, you couldn't think.

Not until you could hear your brother scream both of your names from the kitchen, demanding you to come to breakfast.

You blinked, falling out of your trance as quickly as you fell in.

Oscar felt you jerk in his arms suddenly, pushing yourself out of his hold and attempting to stand up. "Y/N, I–"

No. God, no.

You weren't ruining a friendship over this.

You could pretend. Yes. Pretend. You can't see him.

"We're coming!" You yelled back, feeling your cheeks redden with embarrassment and annoyance; both vexing feeling for yourself.

God, what a day to be sober.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Honestly how this holiday had gone from zero to a hundred was beyond you.

Pretending like nothing had happened in your room was harder than you thought. Not when Oscar looked at you with these burdened eyes and like he had something to say to you, right on the tip of his tongue.

You considered avoiding him. But doing so on a family trip was easier said than done. Besides, it would've been pretty obvious to everyone else and knowing your family, they would've made a big deal out of nothing. Because that's what it was: nothing.

But alas, you have a brother. And normally, he's stupid and self-obsessed to the point it bordered on unhealthy. But as your brother, it seemed he had some sort of sixth sense for these sorts of things. Something about the older sibling being superior or whatever lies he convinced himself with.

"Why are you being weird with Oscar? Your brother asked you while you ate some ice cream and caught up with the new season of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. At first, you couldn't fathom watching a character called 'Belly' out of all things but somehow you got hooked.

You paused the scoop of ice cream you put in your mouth, letting it slowly melt away as you stared hard at your nuisance of a brother. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Ha, nice try. You're supposed to use 'literally' when you deny it the second time," Your brother smiled at you smugly.

You pressed your lips together, feeling your teeth slightly grind against your spoon. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to smack the shit of your brother with a spoon or bury him in a six-foot deep hole.

"Come on, lil sis, you can talk to me. Everyone's out of the house right now," He partially jested while being entirely serious.

Burying him in a hole it was.

"I have nothing to say to you," You stated, eyes reverting back to your show.

Your brother narrowed his eyes, grabbing the remote to pause the episode. Ignoring your exclaim of annoyance, he sat down next to you and took your ice cream and spoon away from you to dig into the pint for himself.

You shuddered in disgust. You were not having that flavour for a while.

He pointed your spoon at you. "I know you think I'm stupid, which I may be, but I'm not entirely an idiot. What happened with you and Oscar? You were all happy buddies a few days ago. Now he looks like a lost puppy and you look like you saw Pennywise in the hallway."

You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You couldn't actually let him know he was funny.

"Did he do something to you? Y/N, if he did something wrong to you I swear to God... just tell me and I will end him."

Your eyes widened at the sudden change of the conversation. Sitting up, you waved your hands in urgent dismissal. "No! Oh my God, nothing like that! Holy shit."

Your brother let a relieved exhale fall from his mouth before furrowing his brows. "Then what happened? Is it your stupid crush on him?"

"I–what?" You asked dumbfounded, looking at your brother incredulously.

"Your crush? Like the one you've had since you first laid eyes on him. You know everyone knows right? It's kinda obvious. Well, everyone but Oscar," your brother said nonchalantly.

You blinked blankly at him. "Before I throw myself off of a cliff, I can give you the generous choice of how you die? Personally I'm thinking asphyxiation, arson, or murder."

Your brother gulped, slowly putting away the ice cream. "Okay, first off stop watching Criminal Minds so much. Second of all, you don't need to feel embarrassed. All of us have been secretly rooting for you. Especially mom and Oscar's mom. You should've seen how happy they got when I told them Oscar and Lily broke up. It was seriously creepy."

You sighed, falling onto the couch. "It doesn't matter how creepy it was. We almost kissed! And then you called for us. Any later, I would've ruined our friendship. What's the point anyways? He doesn't like me. I'm gonna die in the friendzone," You dramatically sobbed out.

"Well you can start by not turning the other direction when you see him. Poor guy looks like you killed his dog. Do you think a guy who's dog was killed has any guts to speak to their murderer? And that's beside the fact that he may like his murderer."

Where was that shovel again?

"You know what you need to do? Do something that makes him talk to you. I got it! I could set you up with Arthur! He's in Santorini too! Oscar would hate it."

"Oh my God... do you want me to die?" You asked, slightly horrified at the look of pure joy on your brother's face .

Your brother grinned. "Of course, I do. Would I be your brother if I didn't?"

━━━━━━━━━━━

For as long as he could remember, Oscar was a peaceful guy. He didn't really get angry quickly. He was usually calm and usually could think before he acted.

But all those characteristics were thrown out the window, well into the air of the music festival everyone decided to attend, when he saw you walk into the event with Arthur Leclerc. His former teammate out of all people.

"Is that Arthur? Why is he here?" Oscar asked your brother.

"Hmm?" Your brother turned around, pretending to squint at the two of you briefly before catching your piercing gaze. "Oh yeah... that is him. He told me he was in Greece. Guess he found Y/N first. Makes sense I guess."

Oscar looked at your brother dubiously. "I... what does that even mean?"

"I don't know why but I always got the feeling he liked Y/N," your brother shrugged.

Oscar blinked. "You're taking the fucking piss..." He huffed in disbelief.

"What? Oh? Here they come."

Truth be told, Arthur was more than happy to oblige with your brother's game. He hadn't seen Oscar in a while because they were in different championships now. Getting the opportunity to play with him a bit was a hard offer to turn down.

"Ozzie!" Arthur cheered, bringing him into a hug.

Oscar raised a brow at you. That pet name originated from you when the three of you decided to become superheroes for a day and you decided to name eight-year-old Oscar, 'Ozzie the Mozzie' after he got bitten by one. No one else on Earth called him that but you.

"I was telling Arty here about that mozzie that bit you and he really liked Ozzie the Mozzie," You chuckled softly.

Arty...

God give him strength because Oscar wasn't sure how much longer he could bear this.

To be honest, you weren't much of a music festival type of person. It was always crowded, hot, and filled with some sort of drugs even if you couldn't see it.

But aside from that, you enjoyed the serenity it could bring; the indie music that was well on it's way to becoming pop; the calming breeze; the warming sun.

Well you would enjoy it more if a certain Aussie wasn't staring daggers to the side of your head–Arthur's head.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see a stranger. A somewhat attractively creepy stranger but a stranger nonetheless. You raised your brows and gave a small smile. "Yes?"

"I know you don't know me but I just saw you from over there and I wanted to say you're really pretty!"

You blinked, feeling the three boys around you stiffen at the compliment. You nodded slowly, putting on a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you so much," You responded, laughing awkwardly.

A moment of awkward silence settled in the air as the guy still remained in front of you.

"So... I was wondering if I get could get your number?" The guy asked with an odd glint in his eyes.

The alarms were ringing in your head and an uncomfortable shiver went down your spine. "Uh, I'm sorry. I... I don't really want to. But thanks for your offer," You politely declined.

"Oh come on. I called you pretty... that's gotta be worth your number. Come on."

Oh.

Honestly, you were speechless. Your number which for him was the leeway into your intimate life was worth a compliment.

"Yeah, I don't think so," You quipped sharply, gritting your teeth.

"Come on, baby girl. Let me show you a fun time." The guy stepped forward, his hand reaching towards your body.

You froze at his words. You wanted to move but you couldn't.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Oscar, Arthur, and your brother step in front of you.

"Mate, fuck off. She doesn't want you," Oscar pushed the guy away from you.

Your brother snorted. "I don't think anyone wants him."

The guy sneered, making you wince. He raised his hands in a feigned defence, beginning to turn away from you. Thank God. "Fine. I didn't want a girl like you anyways. All these guys around you... a whore."

Arthur and you, as the pacifists you were, watched in silent horror as your brother poked his tongue in his cheek and Oscar's head quickly whipped towards the guy.

"Oscar..." You warned meekly as Arthur tried to get your brother's attention.

The last thing any of you needed was famed athletes on the front page of ESPN, cited as the cause of a brawl.

"What did you say?" Oscar raised a brow, ignoring your pleas and walking towards the guy. His tone was dark and the total opposite of what he normally sounded like. He was raged.

"The truth," The guy chuckled. "I said she's a whore. Why? What are you gonna do about it, little boy?"

Yeah see, the guy most definitely had a couple of inches on Oscar and you brother. You weren't really keen on seeing them get pummelled to the ground.

Oscar said nothing in response but raised his fist, slamming it into the side of the guy's jaw.

Oh for fuck's sake.

As if the guy had lightening reflexes, the guy quickly pulled his head back up and got a hold of Oscar, getting into a cycle of punches.

Your heart dropped at the sight. Your brother, thank God, and Arthur quickly realised that Oscar wasn't winning anything here, stepping in to push the two men apart. A small crowd began to gather, some thankfully aiding in trying to stop whatever was going on.

Arthur pulled Oscar away and towards you. You held Oscar against you, clutching him tightly as your heart raced in your ears. Somewhere in the muffled sounds you could hear your brother.

"We're going home. Now."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your brother and Arthur had decided to go explain the situation the both of your parents who were out having lunch because you couldn't blame all those bruises and dry blood on Oscar's face by saying he fell. This left you to clean up Oscar to reduce the risk of your parents having a heart attack.

You clenched your jaw, holding the first aid kid and a wet cloth to your side as you walked towards the seated racing driver who had found a lot of interest in the floor all of a sudden while icing his face.

"I can't believe you," You mumbled in annoyance, taking a seat next to him. You gently grabbed his chin, putting side the ice bag, trying to decide on where to start cleaning but you could only wince at his face. His bottom lip and his brow was slightly torn, the side of his jaw and the top of his cheek had started to bruise, and his nose was a blood fest.

All the pain Oscar felt began to disappear as he felt your hands gently graze past his skin, scouting all the damage that had occurred. He looked at your pained eyes and internally sighed. He hated seeing you in pain. "He was disrespecting you. I wasn't going to just let it go."

You rolled your eyes, slowly wiping away the dry blood. "He was like six foot two, Oscar. You're like five foot. He could've ki... he could've really hurt you," You jested before your voice fell into a bare whisper.

Oscar's heart clenched as you went back on your words, watching you grab some antiseptic with shaky hands. He grabbed your hands, holding them with his own and softly looked into your eyes. "But he didn't. I'm fine. See?" He smiled widely before wincing at the pain shooting through his face.

You snorted. "As if."

"Hey, you're talking to a guy who crashes at most craziest speeds. Bet that guy can't do that," Oscar shrugged nonchalantly.

You narrowed your eyes. "If you weren't already hurt, I would've smacked the shit out of you right now. Just so you know."

Oscar grinned at you. "Ah, there's the ever kind Y/N I love."

You rolled your eyes before processing what he had just said. As friends. Friendly love. Right. You shook your head out of your trance, removing your hands from his and returning back to the stupid first aid kit next to you.

Oscar mended his brows together. "Hey," he tapped your thigh, "you heard what I said right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," You said idly, opening the tube of antiseptic cream.

"What? I..." Oscar sighed, taking the cream out of your hands before pulling you closer to him. His hands held your face, looking you dead in the eye. "I said I love you, Y/N. You know... the type where you look at someone and all you know is that you can't breathe without them? The one in your books?"

Your mouth felt dry. You blinked blankly. Your hands felt clammy. You chuckled nervously. "Pfft, what? You don't love me. You mean as a friend, right? I think you need some medicine. Maybe there's some in this kit." Your eyes darted down, frantically looking around the box as your heart thudded against your chest.

"Hey, hey," Oscar called, using his hand to turn your chin towards him. "I don't. I mean, I do love you as a friend, but no. I love love you."

"Well... what about about Lily?"

"As I said... I realised I loved someone else more," Oscar told you, letting his confession sink into your mind. "You know... if your idiot brother didn't call us that day, I definitely would've kissed you."

Oh.

Well.

That was something.

This was real. You weren't dreaming. You hadn't died. Oscar, your childhood best friend and your brother's best friend, was confessing to you.

"Huh... well, if it's any consolation, I probably would've kissed you too," You retorted, trying to keep your quirking lips at bay before you began smiling for too much for anyone's liking.

"Probably? That kinda sucks. Are you sure you wouldn't have definitely kissed me?" Oscar grinned, grabbing your waist and seating you down on his lap.

"Hmm... I mean maybe. This current environment is nowhere near as enticing as my bedroom. I mean what is sexier than me waking up, am I right?" You joked, trying to cover up the fact that you were dying at the proximity between you two.

Oscar pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek, holding your jaw while his thumb grazed your lips. "Well, I can think of a few other things."

You silently watched as Oscar leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were softer than you could ever imagine.

You blinked, taking a mere second to register what was going on. Oscar Piastri was kissing you. Holy shit, Oscar Piastri was kissing you!

You kissed him back, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and the other holding you steady against him. Your skin burned at his touch, feeling his fingers snake past the hem of your shirt and rest on your hot skin.

Oddly enough, despite your heat, goosebumps sprawled across every inch of your skin as his tongue darted out, exploring your own, giving you access to his mouth.

You could've sworn you were walking on fire. One more step and you could've combusted. Your thighs clenched at the moan that slipped from Oscar's mouth as your teeth tugged on his bottom lip, your hands roaming around his chest and his arms.

Oscar's hand wrapped around your hair, enjoying the softness he had wanted touch ever since he realised he had feelings for you. His pants felt tight as he felt your hand brush against his bare torso. Fuck. You were going to do him in. He fell back further into the couch, holding you tighter against him.

The desire you had was blinding you. Your other hand fell to his cheek, forgetting about his injuries till Oscar murmured an "ouch".

You retracted your hands, pulling back from his lips, a move Oscar clearly didn't enjoy as his eyes followed your lips. "Shit!" You exclaimed, "the antiseptic! Sorry!"

Oscar paused in his trance, realising what you were talking about. He smiled softly, lips widening even further when he saw your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

You carefully applied the cream to his brow before moving to his lips. "The diagnosis for you Mr Piastri is no more kissing for you," You grinned.

Oscar looked at you dumbfounded. "I–what? For how long?"

"Mmm... a week?"

"A week?" Oscar repeated in exasperation. "There is no way I can last that long. Not after this. Besides I'm pretty sure kissing actually helps you heal faster."

Your skin warmed further at his confession. You cleared your throat and held his hands. "I am confident that is not scientifically true."

Oscar narrowed his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. "You need to read better medical journals, doc."

You tilted your head to the side, leaning in further. "I think I have an alternative."

"Yeah?" Oscar's eyes danced across your face, smiling softly. "What is it?"

"It's less practical, more theoretical. Confessional, if you will," You shrugged, letting your forehead rest against his.

Oscar shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of you. "Oh really? Don't let me stop you."

"I love you, Oscar. I've loved you since we were little heroes running around in the backyard."

Oscar opened his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist. He smiled widely at you. "Are you sure you said a week?"

You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. "I'm sure."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine

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lovystar · 1 year ago

Text

❝ A PRINCESS’ WILL ❞ ; BADA LEE

synopsis──after an assassination attempt, the queen invites the very best fighters from across the land to compete for the great honor of protecting you, the princess.

content──bada lee x unnamed fem!oc (reader). princess!reader, soldier under disguise!bada. currently unedited, pls be nice lol. fictional combination of medieval european and korea’s joseon dynasty aspects bc im not too concerned about making it realistic. incorrect pronouns (when not in bada’s pov). this world is matrilineal bc I said so. bada's a flirt. eventual smut w/ switch!bada.

word count ── approx. 5.4k

───

YOUR MOTHER’S STRONG HOLD—on the country, on the castle, on her children, and on you in particular as the oldest—was suffocating. You were destined to rule over millions, and your mother would not let you forget it. You had to be strong, caring for your people but unforgiving to others. That’s how she ruled. She’d shape you to be the same queen she was, and she’ll drill it into your head herself if she needs to.

Your pride would never allow you to say this to her face, but you supposed that she did a good enough job. The people loved her: she kept them safe and fed, gave them more than enough to start caring beyond their necessities and seek self-actualization, to flourish in the arts. She wasn’t very popular among foreign lands, and you might even go on to say that they feared her. She was often fair when wronged, but very rarely did she ever pardon those wrongs. She has never, in the time you've been alive.

Once, when you were very little and you were still taking lessons with some children of noble descent, you heard them repeat a saying they’d learn from their parents:

“Loving are her eyes, beauty bestowed, but fear the night the Hawk catches you lurking near her nest, lest you desire your entrails be fed to the eyas nights on end.”

They spoke of their Queen with reverence and adoration.

Her way of ruling worked well for many years; you got to live a life of peace and prosperity the entirety of your childhood. Not many other kingdoms can say the same.

On top of your queenly history lessons and politics and mathematics and the sciences, she wanted you to be good at protecting yourself. While she has acquired the most apt Royal Guard, a future queen must still be able to hold her own. She ordered only the best archers and swords to teach you, and you were…decent, at it. The years of practice successfully stuck some things into you: how to hold a sword and a bow and arrow, which body parts to target, how to be light in your feet (this one was specifically useful whenever you wanted to leave the royal palace).

In your defense, your natural sensibilities were drawn to something else entirely. You’d always say reading was a more sensible passage of time. You would spend hours upon hours lounging in one of the library nooks or on a blanket in the palace gardens, surrounded by the pastel of the flowers.

You were in that garden when the assassin took a knife to your throat.

You lived, but it scared your mother terribly. Surprising—since you’d never known her to be a person who had any fears. In your mind, it could only mean two things. One, she loved you to some extent—she might just have a weird way of expressing it. Two, someone was threatening her bloodline and consequently, perhaps more importantly, someone was threatening her throne.

And she will not let that happen in her lifetime.

───

It has been two weeks since your throat was sliced open. Two weeks since the doctor instructed you to minimize strenuous activity and if you could, stay in bed as to not open the stitches.

‘You don’t know how lucky you are,’ the doctor has told you every day after your daily checkup. You know this, of course. Had the knife gone any deeper and had your court ladies not been around the corner, you’d be dead. It was, however, a hilarious thought that someone would bring a blunt knife to an assassination.

Your mother didn’t think it was funny. But in your delicate state, the anger in her eyes had never been funnier, and it pained your throat whenever you’d attempt to laugh.

“Will you stop it? The doctor spent hours on those. What will we do if they scar?” You rolled your eyes in response and she scoffed. “Glad to see you’re as genteel as ever, it’d be a shame if you had lost that lively nature of yours.” It sounded sarcastic, but she meant it. She did not want you to be passive. In her mind, that would only led to you becoming spineless and spineless Queen can't rule. You ignored her words, instead gesturing for one of the maids to bring you a cup of water.

“I’ve arranged for the competition to take place tomorrow, do you think you’ll be up for it?”

You furrowed your brows, “Competition?” Your voice came out roughly. The stitches began to itch.

Your mother groaned, “Please refrain from speaking, but yes, competition, have you not been listening to me? The best soldiers and eligible men have been traveling from across the nation for some time now. The men will fight and we shall see who is best equipped to protect the Crown Princess.”

“Must—” you coughed, “must we make them fight? Can’t we just pick one?”

“Just pick one?” She looked into your eyes incredulously, “You must have hit your head and injured your intelligences if you think I’d let just any one person be in charge of you. You must have the best.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Very well.” She nodded once, “The doctor has cleared you to attend so rest, you will be awakened bright and early tomorrow!”

She walked out of the room and left you to your devices. You sighed. You allowed your court ladies to help you out of your daily garments, clean your wound, place the ointment and replace the bandage.

You repeated the process in the morning, placing a necklace over the bandage, ensuring it is not too tight but stays in place. You prepared for the days’ events, and after a couple of restrained breaths, you walked out of the room with your court ladies in toe.

───

Bada Lee spent her childhood just outside the place. Her family had raised generations of soldiers, many of which served in the Royal Guard. That was, until her father was dismissed and demoted to being a simple guard in the rural countryside. He had dedicated his entire life to the Queen and it was a shock to everyone when he’d been told of his dismissal. Up to his last breath, he’d grow angry whenever she’d asked him why. Why did we leave? How could a loving Queen throw us away as if we were nothing? She’d been upheaved from the City, and littered some place where she’d have to fight if she wanted anything to come from her life. Well, fight harder than she’d have to in the City.

Still, she knew that it didn’t matter where she was. Whether in the Capital City or the countryside, external expectations would have her be a wife and a mother soon after. She watched her mother suffer under these conditions, watched her neighbors, and the change in her friends’ nature as they came of age and were married off. They were all unhappy.

She’d be damned if she was destined to a miserable marriage. But above all, she’d be damned if she dies a nobody. Just another woman, forgotten by history.

Nope. That’s not her.

Growing up, she loved watching her father and brother train. She’d try to join, but her father would quickly push her away. She would try day after day, but it couldn’t be helped. So she turned to making her own sword out of a fallen tree branch. She’d copy their movements, the placement of their feet and how the air would rest in their lungs and rush out with the lunge of the sword—well, the lunge of the stick for her. Her brother agreed to train with her, but in his teenage years, he grew resentful of her talent. He decided to begin training a different skill, archery, but soon enough, he realized that this too came naturally for her. Over the years he turned to different combat skills, only for Bada to overpower him again and again. One day, he stopped helping her at all.

It was a cold winter when the sickness spread across the countryside. It was the sickness that took her father and it was the sickness that took her brother. The town had to develop a new burial site due to the amount of people that died at the beginning of the season. Death didn't relent there; people continued dying and dying until that site was full with bodies.

By the time her family succumbed to their sickness, there was nowhere to put them. For days on end, her only company was their cold bodies. She had placed them in a separate room, putting as much distance as she could. As the winter grew colder and she stared at the makeshift tomb’s door, she realized she depended entirely on them. As it stood, she was nothing, less than nothing, by herself. It was a matter of time before someone hunted her down, a young woman without any male relatives left and tried to turn her into a sellable thing.

She’d be damned.

In a feat of fear and anger, she grabbed her brother’s clothes and changed into them and styled her hair as he would. She looked into the small mirror, surprised to see that her crazy plan might just work.

But she needed to make people think it was her that died.

The day the town hall proposed a mass burial, she changed her brother’s clothes into her own and loosened his hair from the top knot it was in. She shaved his beard, feeling disgusted at the act and with herself for feeling the need to do this. She pushed through: this was about her survival. She reported the bodies, and snuck into the site later that night. Sure, she would be shamelessly taking her brother’s identity from this day forward, but that did not mean she would bury her brother in anything other than his clothes. She did not want that karma. Plus she could afford to lose one of the five hanboks.

The next day, she watched anxiously as they buried the mass of bodies.

She should’ve felt terrible about her relief once they were under the soil, and she did, she would miss them. At some point during the week she lived with their corpses, she forgave them for any bad they did to her. She could only think of the good things now, her father’s jjigae and her brother’s light banter.

She did feel bad, but at the same time, a weight had been lifted. She wouldn’t need to get married now, she could pursue something, she could walk around at night without a chaperone and she could talk to people without worrying about being seen as vulgar.

Yes, under her disguise, she was finally free.

───

Lee Bada had been Lee Hae for a year by the time the Queen requested all eligible soldiers to report to the Capital City. Her commanding officer recommended her to go as one of the top soldiers under his command. She has managed to climb her way through the ranks, demonstrating her strength wherever she went.

Nobody knew the Mother of the Nation had called them to the palace, but if only the strongest were allowed to go, then Bada was going to make sure she was at top.

It was strange being back in the Capital City and even weirder to see the inside of the palace when all she’d known before was its gates.

Bada stood in line with the rest of the soldiers in the palace’s courtyard, towering over some of them. Her back maintained straight, her head held high, as the Crown Princess approached the Queen. She bowed to the queen and sat down next to her. Bada controlled her facial expressions, but her feelings couldn’t be helped. The Crown Princess had made the soldiers wait under the sun, and now she had the audacity to look bored. Despite being so far away, she could see the way you whispered into one of your court ladies’ ears and how they covered their mouth. The laughter showed in their eyes though. In contrast, your attempt to cover your giggle was lazy, your hand falling from the front of your mouth before you could control your expression once more. Bada wanted to scoff. Had you no decency? Before Bada’s bitterness could grow further, the Queen began speaking.

“Welcome, loyal soldiers and citizens. I have invited you here today to compete for the highest honor of joining the Royal Guard and protecting your Crown Princess.” Her open palm gestured to her side, where the Princess sat gracefully. “It is a title that comes with great responsibility, and requires skill, power and loyalty. It would please me for each of you to partake and serve your country in the process. If you wish to stay, please take a step forward.”

Each of the four hundred soldiers took a step, the sound booming through the courtyard. Bada did not look to see if any citizens had stepped forward.

“I am so glad! The competition consists of a six stages with different ‘games.’ You must accumulate enough points in each stage to successfully move up to the next one. Today, we shall begin the first stage. You must ride out into the woods and bring back a rabbit that has been trapped and hidden. There are only two hundred rabbits.” the Queen paused and with a clap of her hands, “Go!”

───

“I don’t get the point of this game,” You stated without looking up from your book. “They’ve been out there for hours and no one is back yet.”

“Patience, daughter,” the Queen responded, “There must be a basis to being a good protector, is there not? Wouldn’t you say that enduring long distance and persevering in the woods is a good baseline?”

“You are so creative, Mother,” you sighed into your book, “You can come up with such fantastical scenarios.”

“So you would rather have someone who doesn’t know how to endure long distances riding and persevere in the woods?”

You didn’t respond.

The first to arrive was a seasoned soldier. He had been part of the Royal Guard for more than a decade, and was known for his hunting skills. The second person caught your mother’s attention. One tall and broad-shouldered man rushed through the Palace gates with 4 rabbits hanging from his horse with a robe. He dismounted, grabbing the robe, throwing it on the ground and bowing before the Queen.

“Seowol from the Southern coast, your Royal Highness.”

“Seowol?” Your mother questioned, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do believe you were only supposed to take one rabbit.”

“I wanted to secure a strong position, your Highness.” He remained in a bowed position, looking down, his arms stiff along his body.

“Certainly! Please follow eunuch Jinho to the bathroom and a change of clothes. You’ll be called when everyone has arrived.” He looked up and nodded, and quickly did as instructed.

The court ladies swooned over the man once he’d walked away, but you hardly moved.

“Did you see the way he looked at you? Oh!” the young lady fanned her hand. You chuckled, amused by the younger girl’s reaction.

“The way he got off his horse and showed the rabbits, he was so cool!”

“And handsome! Don’t forget handsome!”

You rolled your eyes at that one, “He wasn’t even that handsome.”

“So you do think he was handsome!” They all laughed, having caught something in your words.

“Listen to me, I said he was not all that handsome.” You repeated, “I’ve seen better.”

They gushed, trying to get you to elaborate, but your mother was beginning to look at you sideways. You thought it was better to stop then. With the light hearted fun you were having with your ladies, you forgot all about the dull ache of your throat. The reason you were having this ridiculous competition in the first place. The truth was there was something about Seowol that disgusted you. You couldn’t quite place it, it could be the abruptness in his movements and the way he threw the rabbits on the ground, or perhaps the coldness behind his eyes. A mindless cruelty to innocent beings.

Returner after returner, it was the same and they started blending into each other. They’d rush through the gates, and present the robed rabbit in front of the Queen before they bowed. They announced their name loudly, as if shouting would make the Queen remember them better. The cook would take the rabbit and disappear to the kitchens.

That was, until number 73th entered the yard. The sun was beginning to set, leaving the sky in a canvas of lovely purples and pinks. You didn’t notice him at first, but soon your ladies began to whisper. This particular soldier entered calmly, and only one hand on the horse’s bridle. A small ball of white highlighted by the black of his uniform. As he got closer, you saw that the white speck of fluff was the rabbit. He cradled it on his left arm, making sure it didn’t jump or fall. Once he’d reach the stage, he dismounted carefully. You noticed his height, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how his shoulders managed to look both broad and slender at the same time. He came closer, bowing deeply before your mother and to your surprise, he began to approach you.

He was quickly stopped by your mother’s guards blocking his path.

“Please, your Royal Highness, let him approach,” You surprised yourself. For the past two weeks, you were scared you were growing paranoid of strangers and people in general. The fear was earned to some extent, you had just been attacked, but you were even more afraid that you’d grow to be scared of everyone, everything, and never come out of your bedroom ever again. Though, now, as you look over at your mother to let the stranger approach you, it seemed this fear wasn’t going to be an issue after all. You were going to be okay. In a lower voice this time, “Please, Mother.”

She rolled her eyes discreetly, waving her hand. “Let him through.”

The guards retracted. The man moved closer to you, and he bowed. You noticed the smoothness of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the pretty way his lashes decorated his pretty brown eyes. He was pretty. So much so you held your breath when his eyes finally met yours.

“My Princess.” He smiled, “For you.”

Oh.

Someone behind you gasped, and you were glad for the noise because that way he might not be able to hear the beating of your heart.

“May I?”

You nodded, despite not knowing what you had agreed to. The man walked even closer to you, and you unconsciously leaned forward. He placed the bunny in your hands, and you searched for his lingering fingers through the white fluff. He retrieved far too soon. You wanted to touch him for some reason. You wanted him to get close again and you wanted him to call you, once again, his prin—

“And what might your name be?” Your mother was not amused.

“Soldier Lee Hae, your Royal Highness.” He addressed his queen but his eyes never left yours.

“Lee, huh? You do know that was your dinner, correct? You won’t have dinner?” Your head snapped to your mother. She could not possibly!

“As long as my Princess is content, my stomach shall never be empty.”

Your head snapped back at him, a slightly ajar mouth. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly, but a sharp pain in your neck scared any adoring feelings away. The stitches tugged on your skin, and you brought your hand to your neck.

“Very well, no dinner. You may sit down, Soldier Lee Hae.”

───

Well, that was fucking stupid. Bada groaned, grabbing her stomach. She just had to give that damned rabbit to the Crown Princess, didn’t she? Even now, hours after dinner and well into their resting time, Bada could not decipher why she chose to spare the rabbit.

You had just looked so beautiful, and before she knew it, she was right in front of you. And as she remembers the look on your face when she gave you the bunny, your parted lips and your widening eyes as you looked up at her, Bada realized she only regretted her choice slightly.

There was no denying your beauty. Everyone knew that while you might be the Crown, you were also the prettiest bird in the eyes of the people.

But Bada couldn’t get distracted. She came here with a purpose. She was going to join the Royal Guard and bring back honor to her family. You might have been eye candy, but it didn’t change the fact that you represented what Bada lost, what she never realistically had a chance at.

It killed her. It killed her that they had a woman King and yet every other woman was still viewed as inferior. Did the only women that mattered lived in the palace? You got to be trained, you got to study the books—why couldn’t they? Why was it that she will need to pretend to be a boy for the rest of her life to feel free?

Could it be helped? Would you be different from your mother?

Her mind turned to her selfish thoughts. Perhaps she could use today’s events to her advantage. She could grow closer to you, on purpose this time, and perhaps that’d help her on the long run. She’d earn her position, of course; that was nonnegotiable.

The hunger grew furiously as she got lost in her thoughts. She couldn’t take it any longer. She got up, quickly wrapping the tight cloth over her chest. She hid a small knife on the inside of her left wrist, a security measure, though she was unlikely to need it. She grabbed something to cover herself with and left the small room she’d been provided with.

She was lucky to finish stage 1 where she did. When the last of the 197 soldiers that would pass on to the next stage arrived, they were well into dinner. The Queen had stated that for the remaining stages of the competition, only the top half scorers would receive a sole bedroom. Everyone else will sleep in the Great Hall. She reasoned it was to keep up the morale and ramp up ambition. It certainly did motivate Bada though. She did not wish to sleep uncomfortably among the stinky men. It was so weird, Bada knew they showered and mere hours later, a musk would develop around them.

She walked towards the kitchens as quietly as she could. Once there, she rummaged through the shelves, searching for something that was not a raw vegetable.

“Please, please, please…” She murmured to herself, and in her desperation, she did not hear the footsteps coming from the side entrance.

“Who is there?” A voice resounded. Bada froze, quickly kneeling down and hidden under the shelf. Fuck! “As Crown Princess, I command you to reveal yourself!”

The Princess? What was she doing up this late?

Bada had hoped that it was a younger staff member also searching for food (someone she could try her charm on), a simple guard (someone she could try to relate to and proclaim guard-to-guard solidarity), hell, she’d even hoped for a thief (someone who was even guiltier than she was). But the Princess? The Princess was someone she could not face. Perhaps for more than one reason.

As discreetly as she could, she crawled towards the end of the shelf. Across from here, there was a long table she could hide under and right across the table was the entrance.

She could make it.

If only she hadn’t run directly into the Princess’ feet.

She landed on her knees, and dread filled her head. She hung it in shame, some hair coming loose and framing her face. So this is how she would die, huh? With nothing to her name, a mere soldier title that she didn’t even earn herself. She would die without a legacy, without—

“Is that you, Lee Hae?” Your voice sounded extra sweet under the moonlight. “How come you’re out here at this time?”

She wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. But there was no getting out of this.

“Princess Royal, please forgive my shamelessness.” She did not look up, still on her knees. “In my hunger, I forgot my place. I beg for your forgiveness.”

There was a long silence after Bada finished talking. Should she have said more? She was already on her knees, what else could she do to humiliate herself in front of the Princess?

“You’re telling me my contentment was not enough for you?”

Bada lifted her head quickly, only to realize too late you were mere inches away. You were so close she could count each beauty mark, each freckle on your face. She’d kiss them if you’d let her. She shook her head. Stupid Bada, concentrate on not dying!

“That isn’t it at all, my Princess.” She shook her head violently, to which you chuckled in response, lifting your hand to cover your mouth.

“So you’re a liar, then.”

“No, no! I am not, my Princess,” Bada opened her palms, “I will admit that as earnestly as my heart believes a smile from you is all I ever need to survive in this world, my earthly body persists in imprisoning me with cravings. I sincerely did not mean to succumb to my hunger.”

You watched the young soldier as they hung their head once more. You thought Lee was…funny. Funny in a very lovely and forward way that you couldn’t help but want more of. You brought a hand closer to her face, fingers lifting her chin.

Bada allowed the princess to lift her face, flushing at the contact. She could feel the heat rushing to her face, and it embarrassed her that you could have this effect on her. How you made her lose composure.

“Look at me,” you stated. Your head followed the brown eyes as they moved, trying to get them to look at you. “Soldier Lee, look at me.” You said it firmly this time around. Finally, the person in question did as asked. Big eyes looked up at you, begging for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“You know, Soldier Lee, you are the prettiest man I’ve ever met.”

Oh.

Widened eyes and dropped jaw, “I—”

‘I am not a man,’ she wanted to say. She almost did, and the fact that she nearly gave herself away scared her. She had never come this close to telling someone the truth. Not on impulse nor consciously. To the Princess no less! She was a mess. She’d better get a hold of herself if she intends on making it through.

Bada had proven that she was good with words, and here you were, leaving her stunned. You enjoyed it, maybe a bit too much. Abruptly, you stood up, leaving the soldier down on her knees. You offered a hand, and it was like a spell being broken. She took it. She gathered herself and she was back into the charming and highly trained voice. Your curiosity for the soldier grew as you watched; there was just something that screamed constraint in the way Lee spoke, but for now, you chucked it up to the respectability rules of the Queendom.

“I am sorry for interrupting your night, your Highness. I will take my leave.” Bada turned, but was quickly stopped when you grabbed her wrist.

It surprised both of you. As a noble princess, you had been taught from a young age that nobody but appointed servants get to come in contact with your skin. Yet here you were—two for two.

“Well, actually,” you began, “I’m here because I did not want you to go to sleep hungry.” You let go of Bada’s wrist, and she already missed the warmth of your skin on hers. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched her outside of training.

You signaled for her to follow you. She did, and you guided her to a small table on a corner. A small, white towel covered something and when you lifted it, Bada’s eyes widened. A golden serving tray filled with dishes.

“I ordered something be cooked for you,” you said, hands fidgeting, “I’m afraid it’s probably cold by now. I would’ve tried to get you sooner but my Mother kept me by her side much longer than I expected.”

“I—Thank you, your Royal Highness.” Bada bowed, stomach rumbling and mouth watering. “Thank you.”

“Please, you don’t have to do that.” You said quickly, “You were kind to me, and I couldn’t let my mother punish you for it.” You moved to pick up the tray, glaring at Bada when she tried to hold it for you instead. “I can do it! Plus, I know a spot.”

You walked gracefully, quickly, without spilling a single thing on the tray. Bada was amazed. The both of you stuck to the sides of buildings, remaining in the shadows. Bada anxiously looked around; what would people think if they saw her with the Princess? What rumors will they spread, and how much will they cost her? Her life?

“Through there.” The door was covered with greenery, and Bada could not see the door.

She moved closer to you, whispering into your ear, “where?”

She genuinely couldn’t see it.

You shivered. You could faintly feel her chest against your back, and the warmth it radiated.

You shook your head.

“Here, hold this.” You passed the tray to Bada, making quick work of the hidden door. You opened it and walked through. You moved the vines for Bada, she bent down and met you on the other side.

“Wow…” She gasped. It was a beautiful space, filled with colorful flowers and a pond, four trees on each corner. There was a small house, and Bada doubted it was more than just a bedroom and a bathroom.

“It is the old gardener’s place, but he died and it became abandoned.” You said, placing the tray on the wooden ledge in front of the small house. “The new gardener had a family, so he understandably needed a bigger space.”

You giggled nervously, and Bada found herself loving the sound. She got so lost in your voice and the pretty flowers that she nearly forgot how hungry she was. Nearly.

Bada sat down next to you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know!” She said excitedly, your eyes sparkling with joy, “Mother thought of destroying it and building something else but I just loved it so much, I wouldn’t let her. I begged her to let me have it for days, she agreed eventually and now it’s my little place! Very few people know about it; my Mother, the new gardener, my lady-in-waiting, you…”

You finished shyly, smiling at Bada before quickly looking away. Would it be too forward of her to grab your face and make you look at her?

Yes, she decided, yes, it would be.

Her stomach growled.

“Oh,” You gasped, “Please eat! I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Please, eat with me.”

“No, no, I ate quite well earlier,” you said, “and you didn’t!”

“I don’t want to eat by myself,” Bada said, “Princess, eat with me, please.”

“I’m telling you I won’t,” refusing her once more, “I'll force feed you this meal myself if you don’t start eating soon.”

“Is that a proposition?” Bada smirked. Your cheeks grew warm against your will.

“I only mean… I want you to eat, you have gone hungry because of me. I don’t want you to be hungry any longer.”

“Would you feed me then?” Bada’s eyes looked down at yours, “If I asked you to?”

You cleared your throat, eyes meeting. “Forgive me, soldier, if I’ve come across in a certain light. But I will never feed a man with two capable hands of his own.”

Bada saw the intensity in your eyes, and how they refused to look away from her hers. She leaned closed, eyes growing dangerous the longer she stayed fixated on you.

“You say ‘a man with two capable hands’ but what if I wasn’t a man? How can you be sure that I am?” Bada brought a hand closer to you, “How do you know these work?” She had gone crazy. In your gaze, she had forgotten herself.

Still, in the back of her mind: if she wasn’t in disguise now, would you feed her then?

You finally broke eye contact, looking down at Bada’s hand. It surprised you how much you wanted to hold it, it surprised you even more when your body started reacting to it. A simple hand with long fingers. A calloused hand from days spent training, yet unlike the hands of the men you’ve encountered. Their hands didn’t bring this strange feeling to your stomach. You mind showed you images of these very hands moving along your body; from the nape of your neck, down your side and in between your—

You scoffed, and then chuckled, “Please don’t be ridiculous, soldier Lee. Now, eat, the food is getting colder by the second.”

Bada covered her feelings with a laugh. She was relieved you ignored her impulsive questions, and at the same time, your response left a bitter taste in her mouth. You were just being nice this entire time? Was there really nothing else in your lingering touches and loving eyes? They were childish questions, but it stung nonetheless. She sighed internally; she couldn’t possibly be getting this close now. It was normal to a certain extent, she had the tendency to develop crushes all the time. Sure, developing one in the Princess would complicate the 'get close to you and advance her career' plot, but she was already here.

All her crushes have faded with time, and this one will too.

Bada finally began eating and she was grateful to you once again. She said so, with cheeks full of food and complete disregard for rules. Rules, you had both broken some many of them already, why start caring about them now?

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee x fem reader #bada lee x oc #bada lee x y/n #x fem!reader #wlw

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

Note

Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot

Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...

Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.

Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.

Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?

WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-

On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs

But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader

Planet: Language Shenanigans

Orbit: Scenario

Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),

& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.

You were not a very confident writer.

This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.

You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.

things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.

If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…

So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,

You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.

Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.

Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.

You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world

After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)

Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???

you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-

and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-

His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,

“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”

…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),

and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all

you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!

◇

Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.

You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???

You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???

(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)

You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:

you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-

you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-

oh my god-

Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-

You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.

You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.

“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”

Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)

and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!

Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-

But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??

Like he’s done nothing wrong???

You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!

He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.

Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.

“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”

…

….Motherfucker.

☆

Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,

1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!

Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!

Safe Travels Anon,

That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]

Iced coffee?? :0

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

#hello i live #i just took a longer than normal break between posting bc the gifts were vv big and i had holidays/job searching to do #which i am still looking #but its better now #also gonna start linking my kofi if anybody is feeling generous! :]#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #my asks #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact isekai #genshin x reader

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clawsdevour · 4 months ago

Text

the moon's reunion

wc: 3.9k content warning: fluff, manager!reader x captain!daichi, oneshot, not proofread

note: hihi this is for the previous request i responded to. i actually LOVED THIS IDEA. while i was writing and brainstorming i literally was like smiling the whole time bc i thought this was so cute (literally js boyfriend daichi being adorable)

࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ♡︎︎

Transferring from another school to Karasuno. Your heart was set on Karasuno’s boys volleyball team, especially since you wanted to find your own people at this brand new school. At your last school you worked alongside with their volleyball team as their manager, thinking you’d fit right in with the volleyball team. You’ve already talked it out with the school’s coach, going over what you’ll be doing and introducing you to Yachi, a first year and Kiyoko, your upperclassman whom you’ll be cooperating with throughout the school year.

Right outside of the gym doors, you could hear their shoes squeaking, balls being hit and received along with a lot of yelling exchanged throughout the courts. This was it, the opportunity to make friends at this school. The lump in your throat was forming out of anxious thoughts. Counting down when to open the doors.. 3, 2.. 1.

“E-Excuse me..! I’m going to be your new manager from here on out!” You slid the door wide open with a bang as it recoils, the balls drop down catching everyone’s attention. It was silent the moment you introduce yourself, heads turned in your direction as you shouted. Your head is bowed all the way down, too nervous to look up at who’s staring back from within. The quietness in the gym was broken when Coach Ukai sauntered down to you, you slowly rose up to see his tall figure and bleached blonde hair.

“Attention everyone. Starting from today, meet the new addition to our team. She’s going to be working as one of our managers. You all better treat her with respectful or it’s conditioning for you all!” Cowering down, as Ukai points and shouts at the team on court before fully welcoming you with a tender slap on the back.

There your job as manager came naturally to you, eventually starting to feel like your second home. Refilling the boys’ waterbottles with Kiyoko and Yachi while gossiping on the way, making sure the volleyballs were in mint condition before all of their practices, setting up the volleyball nets amongst giggles. Sometimes you found yourself cutting up fruit for them to regain their energy. You felt like you actually managed to fit in at school, especially in Karasuno’s gym.

The boys loved your energy even though you sometimes felt like you lack the same level of charisma that they have. You often realized that you talk the most with Nishinoya, their libero who’s also the same grade as you. Noya is just the easiest to strike the conversation with alongside Hinata, they’re both balls of energy. They didn’t judge you one bit for being on the more socially timid side, but would rather hype you up and you were grateful for it because they made you feel so much more confident in yourself.

Despite getting along with those two the most, you actually conversed the most with Daichi Sawamura, the boys’ volleyball captain and a third year. You notice that he’s always thankful for you, even if you’re just handing him his water bottle he’d praise you for working so hard. Sometimes when he doesn’t see his teammates give you the same gratitude as he does, he playfully forces it on them. You couldn’t tell if it’s because he wants you to feel welcomed since you’re still new, or maybe because he has deep respect for his underclassmen even though you’re just a second year. There’s also this lingering thought floating in your mind, Maybe he likes me?

When it came to all of the third years’ graduation, you can’t help but cry out happy tears for them. You were so happy to see such a flourished friendship that was created in such a short amount of time go just like that. Seeing them all nice and fancy, you can tell they were all also trying their hardest not to start sobbing as they’re holding tightly onto their flowers while taking photos. The whole boys’ volleyball team gathered in the gym after the ceremony to personally commemorate the four with small awards, gifts and words of gratitude.

“Thank you guys for believing in me as your captain and as a person. Working with you all.. Brings me to tears knowing I won’t be back next year to see you all grow as people and my teammates. Remember to work hard!” Daichi’s face was stern and serious with a big smile to hide behind his watery eyes that peered around the familiar faces. His eyes landed on yours and didn’t move one bit.

Lining up for hugs before leaving the gym, you were the last to hug him. Stepping closer to him, he’s already staring at you with a joyful smile plastered on his lips with his strong arms opened nice and big for a tight hug. Reciprocating his energy, you lean into his warm embrace as his arms wrap around you.

“Daichi.. Thank you for welcoming me into the team and rooting for me. I promise I’m gonna take care of this team..” mumbling into his shoulder as you feel his head nod into yours, feeling his deep breaths rise and fall on top of your body The hug felt longer than the one he gave the others, everyone had already left the gym when it was your turn.

When you pull away from his embrace, you see that he’s got tears forming at the bottoms of his eyes. Upon seeing your shocked face, he’s wiping his tear droplets on to his sleeve with a tiny ‘sorry, haha’. You’re walking him out, while having a light conversation with him.

“This may be the last time we’ll be like this.. It’s a small wish. But, please let me walk you home.” At the entrance of Karasuno, you usually part paths going the opposite way after practice, he wants to savour every last moment with you.

You agree to let him walk you home, it was dark out and such a hot and humid walk back. The awkwardness between you and him since you first met was barely even there anymore, it was completely transparent. You both were so happy that school was over and for this little moment of peace after the storm together. You both laughed and shared some hidden secrets you’ve kept throughout the school year until you were at your doorstep, bowing down to him with your respect ‘til he waved his last goodbye.

A year passes by with your usual school life at Karasuno, except how you’ve become a third year alongside with Nishinoya, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita. The gym was always still pumping with excitement and joy whenever it was time to practice, especially now that more first years were interested in joining the volleyball team. You were placed in Kiyoko’s position as the head manager with Yachi still working alongside you. Time and time continued to pass, you made sure to enjoy every second with your people before it was time for you to graduate. Still, you were unsure of what you wanted to do when you leave your second home at Karasuno.

In the larger, decorated gym. The heat was radiating as people rushed in to greet their children before the ceremony began. A few friendly faces caught your attention. Was that Sugawara just now? With Asahi and– His eyes stared back into yours. Without a doubt it was Daichi, he came back to watch his teammates graduate. You felt this strange overwhelming feeling of happiness and excitement when you specifically saw him.

“Daichi!!!” you break out of your shyness to flail your hand at him, his grin grew wider when you acknowledged him. He was headed towards you pushing around with a few excuse me’s, he brought Asahi and Sugawara with him to come and congratulate you.

“Hey there new face, congratulations!!! It’s like we just met you the other day and now you’re gonna be on that stage with your name being called out like us!” You’re all catching up before the ceremony begins. At some point you noticed that Sugawara and Asahi drifted off to meet with the others. Asahi was about to spot Noya and started chattin with him like there wasn’t a year put against their friendship. Sugawara’s mingling with the crowd flashing his soft smile all around.

The announcement that directed families and friends to their seats meant that it was time to step away from Daichi and rejoin with the third years. A wave and smile was exchanged between you two before parting ways to new paths.

When your ceremony was over, you can’t help but have this grimace expression on your face knowing that that hole in your heart which was filled, was now aching knowing that you have to behind your friends. You’re looking down, walking out of the gym until you saw a pair of familiar shoes appear in your field of vision. I know those shoes.. Why do I know those shoes… looking up, it was no one else but Daichi, whose been waiting for you outside of the gym. Staring at him, he was more timid than he was earlier and it was written all over his face.

“Haha, hey you! What’re you still doing out here? You look as scared as I was when I first transferred here” You’re giggling at him with your hands behind your back. His face gradually turned into a shade of pink, his hands were a bit shaky as he reached out to you with flowers.

“Look.. I think that you’re an amazing person. And I really know this may be a fifty-fifty chance for me but, I really like you and what to know you more. Ever since I met you, I thought you were hardworking and very loving… it motivated me to become better.” He’s gazing at you with his firm and beady eyes, nudging the flowers closer to you. You’re in awestruck, always on the line of thinking about how others thought of you but you never realized the impact that you could make on them. Filled with joy, you’re absolutely moved to tears.

“We can take this slow.. So, how about going on a date with me?” Daichi delivers his words steadilyin the heat of the moment upon seeing your positive reaction. The crickets echoed while the warm wind brushes against you both. Taking the flowers from his shaky hands, you cried out a clear and loud YES!! While launching yourself onto him for a big bear hug. You feel his face morph into his big toothy grin as he’s swaying you in the air.

Before your fresh start in college to start earning your degree, you’ve been non-stop texting and calling with Daichi to plan out your date now that it’s summer. You often find yourself smiling at your phone or kicking your feet when you see his text notification pop up. You were just so head over heels for him as he was when he met you. However, you’ve both haven’t said anything about your current developing relationship to the rest of the others.

Arriving at the place he was going to meet you at, you saw his tall and broad figure standing near the entrance. Daichi’s more pampered than usual, wearing a simple but clean outfit that showed off his muscular build with a bag over his shoulder. He’s on his phone before he tilts up at you strutting down towards him, his face lights up just looking at you.

“Daichi!!” You’re calling out to him, speeding up your walking pace as you closed the distance between you two. He’s chuckling with his big smile, arms open for a hug which you gladly accept. Stepping back, you lock your hand around his forearm and lead him into the entrance with an excited Let’s go!

Handing in the tickets to the worker, the cool air hits your skin the moment you walk in. The blue lights of the aquarium hit your face while Daichi’s glancing down at you to admire how he got so lucky with you. Despite his calm and happy facial expressions, deep down he was a scared and nervous wreck, he wants everything to go well when he’s with you.

You’re both walking around the aquarium hand in arm, looking at the cool and erotic fish being displayed through the glass walls as you chatter together. Making a full loop around, you returned by the entrance again. You cleared your throat to tell him that you need to use the restroom before you both leave the building for dinner, he’s standing outside waiting for you while he’s taking out his phone to message someone.

So far, he’s only told Sugawara about his advances toward his relationship with you, making sure to update him and ask him for advice about what to do and not to do. You’re in the restroom staring at yourself in the mirror after you’ve washed your hands. You took this time as an opportunity to give yourself a pep talk out of anxiety, reminding yourself to be confident and talk to him like how you usually do as a way to keep your cool.

“Sorry, I didn’t take too long did I?” blurting out, as you head towards him as you nervously make an attempt to hold his hand as you walked. Your heart is pounding like crazy. Success! He’s shaking out a no, with a pleasant smile while he subtly swings around your hand with each step.

“Shall we head to dinner and walk around the area after?” You agreed to a nice warm supper, heading out of the aquarium. This time, with his hand tightly holding onto yours. Oh boy the way you made his heart almost skip with that action, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Your hand fit into his like a glove, as if you were made for each other.

Dinner goes well as you both chowed down on the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten while being able to break the tense tension that lingered. You ordered something different than his, though his dish did look more appetizing. At some point he caught you eyeing his food and offered you a taste. Opening your mouth, expecting him to spoonfeed you some, he’s snickering at your cute antics while he scoops it up for you.

“Is it good?” Daichi’s content watching you try his food with that happy expression. Nodding out a yes, you urge him to try your dish by pushing to towards him before you completely destroyed it with your appetite.

Daichi pays off the bill even though you argued within to split, of course he won. Both of you walk out to take a little stroll in hopes of helping you digest the big meal you just had as the sky continued to darken. Stumbling upon a little park, you sit on the swing breathing in the crisp cool air as he does the same.

“I had so much fun today.. I didn’t think this would happen at all when I first moved here Daichi.” You’re eyeing him, then back at the full moon that casting its light onto you. You giggle to yourself, thinking about how grateful you are and how far you’ve come while making your bestfriends along the way.

“I, did too. Um.. You know, the moon?” His face is tilted towards yours, admiring your beauty that was glowing in the moonlight. You’re facing him with a puzzled look on your face, awaiting to see what he’s about to say next.

“What about the moon?” Daichi’s breathing in a big deep breath.

“Well, the moon. It’s beautiful isn’t it?” All of your attention lands on him, realizing he wasn’t talking about the god damn moon at all. He was talking about you. You can’t help yourself but have all these feelings swell up inside you, unable to resist grinning out of glee before whispering a small I love you, too.

You’re both sitting there on the swings with a flushed and surprised look on your faces. I can’t believe that just happened.. We just confessed to each other like that. You’re both basking in the moment of silence and the clanking of the swings with the mix of the quiet and awkward atmosphere. Daichi’s breaking the silent when he clears the lump in his throat.

“Um.. so– If I may, can I do the honor and be your boyfriend” standing his ground, his eyes are jittering but filled with his sheer will that peered into your soul. His words echoed in your ears as you tried to absorb the question he just asked you. This was what you’ve been waiting for. You’re so happy you’re eyes are watering as your try to dab the tears off with your sleeve as you sniffle.

“Yes.. Daichi, you can!” clasping your hands over your mouth as you pleaded at him. Hearing your words, he’s never been happier than playing on the court with his team. Daichi’s helping you up from the swing as you wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him with a massive beam as his eyes soften to look at you with a gentle smile. From there, he’s walking you back home, like that time where he graduated during that hot summer night.

Another year passes by, you and Daichi are both doing well in college despite going to different campuses. Every few weeks its either you or him at each others’ doorstep to go on your little dates. Any little thing that came between your relationship with Daichi was always overcomed by the strong communication you both shared with each other. That was until you’ve both received an invitation in the mail from Coach Ukai. It’s been two years, what would Coach want from us if we’ve both already graduated?

Upon opening the letter, you recognize the cute hand writing. It was Yachi’s! You’re filled with excitement as you tore the little letter out of the envelope. The first characters read: YOU’VE BEEN INVITED TO KARASUNO’S BOYS VOLLEYBALL BANQUET!! You were beyond wowed when you realized you’re gonna be able to see your underclassmen as third years. Obviously, you rushed to RSVP with the number attached at the bottom of the letter. You immediately texted Daichi about the reunion that was planned by Coach, and the remaining third years.

You’re up texting him and the others who’ve also graduated about how nice it’s gonna be to see them again. That was when you registered in your mind that you’re gonna have to tell them all that you’re now dating Daichi, their former team captain! In shock, you messaged him that you’re both gonna have to reveal this long, awaited secret of yours.

Days seemed to fly by, and the day of the reunion crept closer and closer. The day of, you invited Daichi over to get ready with you. This wasn’t the first time having him in your house, your parents love him, especially making him do chores around your house. You reach the bottom of the stairs to put on your shoes when you heard the vacuum being turned on in the living room, that’s definitely him being put to work, laughing to yourself as you call out his name with your hand on the front door.

Walking towards the front entrance of your high school, memories flooded towards you. It was like the first day of school again, your heart racing out of your chest. Daichi notices that you’re started to tense up and puts his hand over your waist to calm you down as he slows down your walking pace.

“Don’t be so nervous. We know these people. Let’s walk in and make them remember who we are.” Daichi’s gingerly smiling at you with a slight flick of light in his eyes, waiting for your reaction as you mumbled at him with a little Mhm.

The gym doors were open wide, welcoming the people who walked in before you. Letting out a deep sigh, you boldly followed after them with Daichi’s big hand around your waist. Everyone’s eyes lit up when they saw you two walk in. Especially Nishinoya who shushed Tanaka with his finger to stare at you both. One by one people started to swarm up to you two, darting down questions for you and Daichi to answer as if they were paparazzi. Luckily, Yachi’s able to pull you out of the crowd and onto the side leaving, Daichi scratching his head trying to respond to them all.

“Oh my gosh!!! Are you and Daichi a THING??? Why haven’t you told me anything!!!” Yachi’s shaking you by your arms as you laughed out loud. It’s been so long since you’ve seen your favorite underclassman, she’s grown up to take up yours and Kiyoko’s position as head manager of the boys volleyball team. You’re practically beaming with delight as you try to dodge as many questions as possible. The flood of people dispersed when you tried to take a glance back at Daichi.

Your boyfriend was in the corner talking to Nishinoya and Tanaka. They both had the most shocked appearance on their faces as they completely ran over to interrogate your boyfriend. You could hear them shout across the gym with a couple loud HUH’s and WHAT?? You couldn’t really believe it either, transferring in from another school, to dating the boys’ volleyball captain after you graduated. Not to mention how socially awkward you were when you first introduced yourself.

Yachi walks you over to the selection of food you could choose from to plop onto your plate as she grabs herself a drink. You’re sitting at the table across from her, catching up and asking about how the team’s been after your year left, waiting for Daichi to soon accompany you. Right as you thought about him you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning back he’s holding a plate of food as he sits next to you, greeting Yachi. Though, he wasn’t the only one who sat down at your table.

Nishinoya and Tanaka had both raced over when they realized Daichi wasn’t standing in front of them when they looked back for a second. They both sat next to Yachi, now the three are all looking at you both with squinty eyes. Nishinoya and Tanaka look at each other before leaning in towards you and Daichi.

“Aren’t you both gonna tell us what’s been going on and how you two ended up this way huh?? Putting the moves on our manager like that, former captain?” Tanaka’s jokingly questioning Daichi with his face inching closer while Daichi’s nervously laughing. Sugawara, who’s sitting behind you guys hears Tanaka’s voice over the gym’s murmurs and looks back to place a hand on Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi’s eyes make eye contact with Sugawara’s and your gaze. He was seeking for your approval before telling the team how you’ve come to be, to which you happily agreed to reveal to them.

“Well.. look. Actually, I’ll start from the beginning.” Daichi’s voice echoed in the heated room, catching the attention of others sitting at the tables near yours as they kept silent to hear your little love story unravel.

masterlist here

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lufyuu · 2 months ago

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Every time I read one of your blogs, I wonder what your OCs would be like with a reader who is already married (her husband is probably cheating) and the reader is super romantic (the very affectionate type) Charismatic and affectionate How would they react?

Thanks for reading, we love you 💖❤️

I'm not sure if you read the rules as I have stated that I don't write for fem readers, bc of that, this will be gn reader!

Eun Hyunwoo

Considering you're a married idol, you have to watch who you interact with as people would probably overanalyze your interactions with other people. Even if you're just being friendly, they could misinterpret it as you liking them. Because of that, the friendship between you and Eun Hyunwoo stays that way, just a friendship. Well this is until Eun Hyunwoo was taking pictures of you that he realized your husband was on the couch texting someone while smiling. He didn't think much but couldn't help but to take a small peak at the contents of the chats. That's how he found out you had an unfaithful husband. Hyunwoo wanted to tell you but didn't want to be the reason your marriage failed which is why it was only until the affair was publicized that he finally told you. Of course you were heartbroken, considering how you're already dealing with divorce papers and lawyers, the news that he had been cheating on you for longer than you thought made everything worse. Ever since then, Hyunwoo was the only person you could turn to for comfort. It was partially because he felt bad that he made you feel worse but also partly because he had seen how sweet you were and wanted to get to know you better. After a few months, you eventually started to move on from the whole ordeal. It was then that Hyunwoo and you started going out as more than friends. Each second he spetn time with you, he kept thinking 'how could anyone cheat on them' or 'their ex fumbled' because of how sweet you are. You remember his favorite restaurants, took care of him whenever he was overworked, etc. You had a way with your words, everytime you complimented him, it felt as if he was being complimented by the Gods themselves. Whenever he's around you, he can feel his cheeks get red due to your actions and words alone. To this very day, he still doesn't understand why your pathetic excuse of an ex cheated.

River Sterling

Considering that you're both still in Uni, I'll take it as a boyfriend situation. Nothing can get past River, especially not rumours. He hears everything that goes down in the walls of the Uni you both go to. Including when your now ex was kissing and feeling up 10 different girls in the same janitor's closet. He didn't care about it at first as he didn't know who the hell was pleasuring all these girls but once he found out it was your 'boyfriend'? That's a whole nother story. He wouldn't tell you directly, he set up a whole scenario so you could find out for yourself! The expression on your ex's face and one of his side chicks' were hilarious to River. What wasn't funny was you sobbing uncontrollably. He had thought you'd at least swing at the guy but you didnt. You were in shock and decided to flee the place. River felt guilty at that point and decided to grab your wrist as you were leaving the building. He hated the expression on your face. That day, River did everything he could to cheer you up. Gosh he was even thinking of eliminating your ex for you if you allowed it. River really fell for your charisma and personality. He wasn't used to real affection being given to him without asking anything in return. The more he was with you, the more he fell inlove with you. The two of you would always hold hands on campus, he doesn't hide your relationship like a certain someone once did. Whatever you want, you'll get it and River will make sure of it.

Liu Zihao

I honestly don't know how this trope would work with Liu Zihao seeing as the reader is depicted as a heartless serial killer in his story but let's say you're not heartless in this au and you have a partner in crime who is also your husband. The two of you have been working together for a long time and have great synergy. That is until the one time you two almost got caught, he decided to abandon you for his own safety. This ended up in you having to face not just any jury but Lord Liu himself. You were sure your spouse would come to fetch you sooner or later but he never showed. Out of rage, you decided to reveal where the two of you had been hiding all these months to avoid getting caught. What you didn't expect was being given a special sentencing by Liu Zihao. Being stuck in a luxurious house wasn't that bad afterall. Honestly, after several days being in his home, you warmed up to him. His personality reminded you that of a cat's. Sometimes a dog's too. Even if he didn't say anything, you could feel his eyes on you everytime he was around. Depsite all this, you were almost always bored so you decided to pick up a hobby. Baking and cooking. After testing out a few recipes, you fed some of your cooking to Zihao who was thrilled you cooked for him! Well technically not for him but he doesn't know that, let a man be happy. You were honestly like a house spouse at that point. Not that Zihao minded, he loved tasting your crafts, they always tasted amazing to him. The two of you became something akin to lovers without even mentioning to to one another. At least in Zihao's eyes you're the one for him. Maybe it was because you had lived almost a whole 5 years being married that you treated Zihao as if he was your husband. Your affection made Zihao fell ever so inlove with you. On that topic what ever happened to your husband? Well don't worry about him, he was found guilty for all the crime you did and also a few infidelity crimes. He was executed on the spot of course. Nothing will get in the way of the two of you!

Han Minho

While you were in the military, your husband decided his dick wasn't being tend to enough and stuck it into another person's hole. He did this while you were none the wiser. Even when you sent him letters, he rarely ever read them. Instead, your letters would be thrown in the trash bin next to the bed he was fucking a woman in. You thought he was busy so you brushed it off. Maybe it's something the two of you would have to talk about after you get discharged but until then, you should focus on your duties. Although Minho found you attractive, he didn't act on his feelings knowing you were already married. He was a better man than that. However, when you were discharged early and decided to surprise your husband...Let's just say you came out of the house divorced. You couldn't believe the man that vowed to love you until death would be fucking another woman in your bed no less. While you were getting coffee, eyes swollen from crying the night before, you bumped into someone you didn't expect. Han Minho. He noticed your red eyes and immediately asked what was wrong. He didn't understand how you went from being such a sweet and happy person to having red eyes from crying too much. The two of you sat down as you told him what had happened. The two of you never had a close relationship but you really needed to get the whole thing off your shoulders. Minho understood what you were going through. He offered for you to stay at his place for a bit. Better than whatever hotel you had decided was better than the house you shared with a cheater. It was then that the two of you started going out more. You practically spent every moment from waking up to going to sleep together. You offered to pay some bills but Minho said there was no need for that, he had everything covered. As repayment for not only taking care of you and hearing you out, but also letting you stay, you gave him gifts every week according to what he liked. You noticed even the smallest thing. Like how he would look at a piece of cake for a bit too long. Next morning, he would find the cake in the fridge waiting for him to bite into it. The two of you felt as if this was the life you both wanted. To feel seen and loved by one another. Han Minho will make sure your ex doesn't ever come near you ever again. He'll love you even if death eventually parts the two of you.

Xu RenFeng

Being apart of royalty and the second born of the imperial palace, you were married to a known and trusted general of the family. Renfeng, being the spy he was, knew the two of you were married. He admired you from afar, your personality and smile made his day even if they weren't towards him and rather, towards a man undeserving of your love. He wanted a reason to steal you away and a reason was given to him alright. Renfeng had spotted your unfaithful husband in a brothel with 4 women all up in his personal space, touching him in places one shouldnt ever unless they were married. The general not only stayed still but even encouraged it. He was about to slice his throat but didn't want to cause a scene. Renfeng waited until the general exited the place, satisfied with his infidelity and sliced his head on the spot. You woke up the next day to screams in the palace. Not knowing what was wrong, you got up quickly to see what the fuss was all about, only to see your husband's severed head stuck on the spikes of the outerwall. It had a note on it, 'undeserving of your love'. It seems whoever planted this clearly wanted you to see it, and the note. They wanted your attention. Well Renfeng did get what he wanted after kidnapping you and taking you to where he thought you would be 'safe'. His definition of safe is definitely contradicting with yours. It'll take you some time to be affectionate towards your kidnapper but he'll be on the receiving end of your affection soon enough, he just has to play the waiting game.

Honestly this was a bit too long😥

#xin's sweet anons #xin's liu zihao ☆#xin's han minho ☆#xin's river sterling ☆#xin's xu renfeng ☆#xin's eun hyunwoo ☆#oc x male reader #x male reader #bottom male reader #male reader

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catscidr · 11 months ago

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YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention?

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions.

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?)

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you)

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table.

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly.

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask.

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand.

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind.

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most.

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you.

Oh, how naïve you are.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged?

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory.

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before...

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.”

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up?

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response.

Did he always have teeth this sharp?

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him?

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader #zandik x reader #zandik x you #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore headcanons

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onlystylesangels · 4 months ago

Text

Silent Struggles

Anon: I might have a request … :) so what if harry found fem!Y/N’s pack of cigarettes and he didn’t know she smoked bc she never mentioned anything and he talks to her bc he’s concerned?/ Anon: H's girl seems to be acting off and he confronts her and it turns out she's been dealing with some depression and anxiety and she's been to scared to let anyone in or... reader seems to be going through something and hasn't told anyone about it and starts smoking cigarettes; dealing with her problems alone.

Warnings!!!: talks about anxiety, talks about depression, smoking, fluff, Harry being a supportive boyfriend, reader feeling insecure

A/N: Hello!!!! I know it's been a very long time since I have posted a new Harry writing. But here it is, lovies! I hope you enjoy this one. !!!***Before you read I want to start by saying that you are loved and you're precious to this world. I love you, yeah, you the lovely person that's reading this. I care about you and there are so many people around you that care for you too. Please if you're going through something, don't fight alone. Please tell someone what you're going through. Please be safe. -A <3

It happened as always. At night you would wake up from a nightmare, open the drawer from your nightstand and rummage for your new pack of cigarettes, the plastic wrapper still intact. You took two cigarettes out and grabbed your lighter. You walk into the balcony and start the fire. You inhale a sharp breath and let out the hollowing contents of nicotine. It felt nice. Feeling the nightly fresh air hit your exposed arms, goosebumps adorning your skin as you puff out smoke from your mouth. It happened as always, as a freshly new night routine.

The next morning you woke up with the bitter taste of nicotine filling your senses and feeling a bit dizzy when you sat up from bed. You quickly grab your phone and look at the time. It was already 9am and you were positive that you were going to be running late to the local bookstore.

So, you take a shower and put on clothes that may or may not have matched together to create a decent outfit, but fuck it. You were about to be late so you had to work with what you had. You quickly dashed to the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast and made sure to message Harry.

“Hi bubba! I’m heading out to work. I’ll see you later today, okay? Love you.”

“Sounds good, love. I love you too. Make sure to drink enough water!”

Harry, always the caring type. You loved that about him. Having a person loving you for you and always making sure that you were doing okay was one of the blessings that you took for granted. If only it were that easy to show that same love to yourself.

“Richie! Did you get a chance to call Davy? His favorite book just came in and he had first dibs on the book” You shout out to your coworker who always seems to be too busy to work as he is sitting at the back corner of the bookstore, scrolling through his phone. Pesky phones, fucking culprits of rotting out your brain.

“Haven’t gotten a chance, Y/N. Why don’t you call ‘em?” Richie sends you a head nod and immediately looks down at his phone. Fucking twat.

You roll your eyes and walk towards the front desk and call Davy. But before you start pushing down the buttons on the phone you see someone come in.

“Hey Y/N! Has that book come in here yet?” The man of the hour. Davy, the active reader and loyal customer of the Blues Blues Bookstore.

“Hey there, Davy. I was literally just about to call you. I got that book reserved here for you. Hold on.”

You walk towards the back of the store and retrieve the book that had a bookmark with his name plastered on it. You walk towards the entrance and hand it to him. He quickly takes the book in his hands and begins turning the pages.

“I love it! Thank you again, Y/N! Glad I got here as quickly as possible.”

You turn towards the computer and begin typing away, clearing the book for Davy.

“My pleasure, Davy. Just make sure to always come back. You’re keeping us in business, remember?” You joke, making Davy laugh and giving you an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah. I recommended some people to come by to the store. Not sure if they found their way in yet.”

“Haven’t seen any new faces lately. I would ask Richie, but that twat doesn’t do anything here, so I guess no new customers.”

“Hmm, you should bring that up to Daya. I’m sure she’ll fire the guy.”

Firing Richie, tsk, that guy is literally family to Daya. Even if you tell her that Richie doesn’t do anything in the store she’ll find a way to defend him and tell you off. There is no way that you would ever start a conversation regarding firing Richie to Daya; she’ll never believe or listen to you.

“We’ll see.” Is all you say as Davy puts his new book in his satchel.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Davy says as he starts walking towards the doors. “Oh, and tell that boyfriend of yours hi. I haven’t seen that English man in a while.”

You smile at the thought of him bringing up Harry.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll tell him you said hi. See you Davy.” You wave goodbye to him as he does the same.

During your break time you try to sneak in some time to smoke a cigarette and make sure that the door you come out from is shut tightly. You feel dumb for hiding your recent cigarette intake from people, but then again, people see you as the nicest and innocent person on earth. Yeah, sure. But you kept thinking about the deadline. Your personal deadline that you set yourself to meet someone at the law college that you have been researching on.

For a couple of months now you’ve been thinking about applying to a local law college in your city and were afraid to continue the process. You continuously had non-pep talks about how you would be a terrible law student and that you may not make it to getting accepted into the college. This and telling anyone about it was just too much for you to handle. You didn't even tell Harry yet. You knew why you didn’t want to tell anyone; you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. Problems that you knew were affecting you mentally and emotionally.

= = =

After the break you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your mind. The mere thought of reaching out to the law school representatives and going to that mandatory interview to see if you were worth being a candidate for their college was already too much to think about. And so you continue your work in the bookstore. Putting new books up on the shelves and welcoming customers into the bookstore. Parents accompanied with their children as you reach for the candy jar under the front desk to offer to the children. You liked your job at the bookstore, but you felt like you needed a change of scenery, especially after working there for four years. And the thought of leaving this job and trying something new frightened you.

A couple of minutes before you were off. There was a ding heard at the entryway.

“Sorry, we’re closed. You can come by tomorrow at-” You look up from the front desk and notice that it’s Harry. Carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hair started to grow from the buzz cut he got months ago. Gray trousers and loose fitting t-shirt that was starting to rip at the neckline. You told him to throw that shirt away but he always replied by saying that it was his lucky shirt. Did you believe him? Of course not, but if he claims it is his lucky shirt then it’s his lucky shirt.

“Harry!” You run towards him ignoring the stack of books that were in front of you that needed price tags.

Harry smiles and hugs you back as he kisses your cheek. “Hi, my love.” You walk back a bit and finally take notice of the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“And these?”

“Oh, I got ‘em for Richie. You know that marvelous coworker of yours,” He lies through his teeth, your eyes rolling at the mention of his name. He notices your change of mood and lifts your chin with his thumb. “Hey, lovie. I’m joking. These are for you. I saw them at the local flower shop and thought that you would like ‘em.” Your lips start curving into a smile and you give him a kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, Harry,” you smell the flowers and softly touch the flower petals, “They’re gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome, my love.” Harry follows you as you go towards the backroom. Retrieving your things and ready to call it a day at the bookstore.

“Ready?” Harry asks you. You smile in response and immediately grab his hand as he leads you both to the exit. You lock the doors to the bookstore and leave walking hand-in-hand with Harry.

You reach your apartment and unlock the door to your little home. You walk in along with Harry and make your way to the sink and grab a vase under the sink cabinet. Harry watches you as you fill the vase with water and stick the flowers in it; he admires your acts and just leans his weight on the kitchen island and stares at you as if you were this beautiful undiscovered galaxy.

You catch him staring and you get shy all of a sudden. You get a bit self-conscious, but then that feeling goes away when Harry walks towards you and cups your cheeks.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” You feel your cheeks get hot and you quickly turn your head away from his gaze; not even hiding the smile that you had. Harry chuckles and swiftly turns your head back to his gaze. “Don’t hide from me, love. It’s just me.” Harry teases, the back of his hand smoothly running down your cheek.

“You make me nervous, Harry.” You confess, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you making me shy.”

Harry picks you up and walks towards the couch. He keeps you on his lap as you continue hiding away from him. You both have been dating for over a year and so you must’ve at least gotten used to all those times that Harry gets you all flustered, but you haven’t yet. It’s like falling in love with him for the first time. That’s how you feel right now. Your body is so close to his and his arms wrapped around your body as he just holds you. Appreciating your presence; he held you in strong arms as if he was afraid to let you go. And he was.

For the rest of the evening you both order takeout from two different restaurants because you were craving two of your favorite foods. Harry happily ordered from the two restaurants as he left you in an excited mess. Excited that you were finally going to eat those foods that you craved for so long. The food doesn’t take long for it to arrive at the apartment and so you and Harry eat on the couch and watch some movies to pass the time. You both joke around about the characters from the movie that you were both watching and made the night pleasant.

As the night went along, you were laughing along with Harry and enjoying being in each other’s company. You wished you could be there on the couch all night, but you were starting to yawn and your eyes starting to droop from how sleepy you were. Harry noticed and turns off the tv and grabs your hand and leads you both to your bedroom. He lets you go into the bathroom first to start your night routine as he lies down on the bed scrolling on his phone.

You walk out the bathroom and stand over the bed and lean down to meet Harry’s eyes. He plops his phone down on his stomach and you take this opportunity to kiss his pink lips.

“Mm, I don’t want to shower anymore.” He whines in between kisses. You chuckle and grab both of his hands and try your best to lift your boyfriend up from the bed. Jeez, you weren’t an active gym-rat, but from just lifting up his body you felt like you did a whole workout.

“Damn, Harry.” You swipe a hand over your forehead. Harry laughed in response.

“My bones are heavy, love.” He simply responds as he walks towards your dresser and opens up his designated drawer that has some of his clothes in it. “Be right back, lovie.” He looks behind him and sees you starting to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed.

“Don’t take too long.” You respond

“I’ll try not to.” He walks to the bathroom with a new pair of clothes hanging on his shoulder. He leaves the door open; the showerhead turning on.

A couple of minutes pass and Harry walks back into the bedroom; drying his hair as best as he could. It was easier for him to dry it now that it was shorter. You lift up the bed covers inviting him inside the warm cocoon. You both lie together, Harry spooned you from behind and as you brought one his arms up to your chest. You both fall asleep into a quiet slumber.

But you wake up after a couple of hours. You didn’t even bother to check the time as you opened your eyes and slowly removed Harry’s arm from hugging your body. You sit up and walk towards your bedside drawer; already knowing your nightly routine. You grab the pack of cigarettes that were hidden under some of your favorite books and miscellaneous items that you kept forgetting to get rid of. You also get a lighter that was stashed inside your purse and go outside to the balcony.

The butt of the cigarette blazes to life as you take a breath in of the substance and slowly let a breath out. Your thoughts once again start to disappear with every intake of breath you take. It numbed them, made them disappear, but only temporarily. You knew that smoking was making your lungs get sore and your nose wrinkling still not getting used to the smell of the smoke, but you didn’t care at that moment. It numbed everything, it numbed your problems and it made everything feel-- better.

As you continued puffing out air of smoke you continued looking up at the sky, stars aligning the horizon randomly. With each puff of smoke you felt the anxiety slowly go away. You were almost down to the brim of the cigarette, so you could comfortably go back to sleep. Once you were about to inhale one last breath of nicotine you heard footsteps making its way towards the balcony. You freeze and hold the cigarette in your fingers, bringing your hand to your side.

“Y/n?” Harry says as he rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes. “What are you doing out here, it’s la-” He stops himself once he notices what’s in your hand. He looked confused, he didn’t know you smoked.

“Harry.” You reply. The cigarette is still in between your fingers, burning away.

“I- I didn’t know you smoke.” Harry begins slowly walking towards you, concern sketched in his eyes.

You look down at the cigarette that continues to burn away and you feel tears start welling up in your eyes. You bring the cigarette up in front of you and stomp it on the floor, watching as the smoke starts consuming your nose. Regret. Regret is what you were feeling as you turned to Harry’s presence, his demeanor causing you to feel like a deer in front of headlights. You’re sorry. Sorry that you never told him that you picked up smoking because of not having anything else to control your anxiety.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Harry runs to you and embraces you with all his might. “Oh love. Come here.” You snuggled into his embrace and began crying. You held onto his arms so tightly that you were clutching onto him afraid of him letting go. Letting you go.

“I was scared. I just wanted to help… myself.” You mutter.

Harry held you as he ran his hands down your back. He would occasionally massage your head. “I promise you baby, I am going to be here for as long as you want me to, then you can let me in and help you.” He held onto you tightly and he kissed the side of your face. Harry let you cry on his chest as he rubbed your back soothingly, trying best to comfort you.

“I just felt alone.”

Harry steps back a bit and looks you in the face, concern written all over his green irises. He held your hand in his and met your eyes filled with tears.“You have me, darlin’.” Harry said, his fingers lightly brushing away the stranded tear on your cheek. “I’m right here, Y/N.” He reassures you. Bringing you close to his body again.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m sorry.” You let out, Harry cupping your cheeks trying to calm your nerves.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You have nothin’ to apologize for, lovie.” He looks at your bloodshot eyes. Seeing you sad like this he felt broken. Broken that he didn’t know how to make you feel better, broken because he hated seeing you without a smile on your face. Broken that he wasn’t aware that you were hurting. “Is it okay if I ask what’s going on?” He said with a soft voice.

“I– I just been sad and overthinking, okay.” You let out, your hands coming up to cover your face. You felt ashamed, as if a parent just witnessed the most disappointing act from their child. You hated feeling insecure in your own skin; you felt worse that it was Harry that was looking down at you with concern in his eyes and his body weight shifting to softly take your hands in his and seeing your face.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby, you’re scaring me. What are you sad about,” Harry steps back a bit giving you room to speak and mostly giving himself self-control from forcing you to share what’s been making you sad. “Baby, I’m right here, okay. It’s just me.”

You slowly turn your head away from his gaze and look at the sky. Your hands no longer covering your flushed face, but now twiddling with your shirt, Harry’s shirt. You feel bad that you now created droplets of tears on the collar of his favorite shirt.

“I just have been dealing with a lot of negative thoughts and I just… sniffle… I didn’t want you to worry about me.” Your hands constantly were moving from your face down to your shirt. Harry catches your little antics and walks towards you, slowly, making sure that he has a good distance between you two before he starts again.

“Y/N. I had no idea that you were going through something. I had the feeling that you were acting a bit different, but never thought that something was affecting you,” He waits for your permission to come in closer and so he takes no time and has his hands cupping your cheeks. Tears staining your beautiful cheeks that he so dearly loved taking his time in kissing and feeling your soft skin against his ring-clad fingers. “I wished I knew you were going through something.” He confessed, sensing a feeling of regret that he felt for not seeing the signs of you feeling depressed and not being your energetic-self. Now as he looks back, he noticed your change of behavior. Being a bit more reserved, but still communicating with him which led him not sensing a shift of you.

“You always told me that it was your period messin’ with ya mood. I was so stupid to believe that. Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

It’s true. You shared to him that the past couple of months when he would suggest going out to shopping outlets and going out for dinner you would simply reply that you weren’t in the mood to go out in public. That your period was getting the best of you and drained your energy. It was true that you had bad days when you were on your period, but you made him believe that it was your menstrual cycle being the culprit of you feeling drained.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You cried out, his hands holding your head as he hugged your frame and landed kisses on your head.

“It’s okay. I know now that you haven’t been feeling good. Jus’ let me help you, yeah?” Harry looks down at you, your eyes bloodshot as a soft smile creeps up on Harry’s lips. You follow suit and slowly mimic a smile back.

Harry leads you back to the bedroom and lets you sit on the edge of the bed. “‘M going to start a bath for you. Is that okay?”

You nod in agreement and he starts turning on the bath faucet, making sure that the water is warm enough to calm your body and hopefully make you feel a bit better. As he is sure that the water is at the right temperature he comes back to the bedroom where you are still sitting on the bed. He kneels in front of you and looks up at you, his hands running up and down your arms gently.

“The water is almost ready for ya. I’m gonna get those bath bombs you like so much and light up some candles.” He says, reaching towards your head and landing a kiss on your forehead. You softly smile at his action and continue looking at his beautiful eyes that you could never get tired of looking at.

He goes back to the bathroom and takes a blueberry muffin scented bath bomb and throws it inside the bathtub as he watches the water fizzle and quickly change into a dark blue hue. He then lights up a couple of candles and sets them on the sink cabinet.

He comes back to the bedroom and Harry motions for you to stand up and you do and follow behind him making your way to the bathroom. He’s about to leave you alone in the bathroom for you to get undressed, giving you privacy.

You quickly reach towards his hand and he stops from walking out the bathroom. He looks back at you waiting for you to say something.

“Stay, please.” You mutter softly. His hand slowly intertwines with yours as he shuts the door behind him and walks towards you. Nodding in agreement as he follows suit and starts undressing. You motion for him to help you unclasp your bra and he quickly does it with ease.

You step into the warm water and instantly feel the water relieving your tired muscles. You didn’t even realize how tense your muscles were. Harry then follows you and lands both feet on the warm bathtub. He lies down first and motions for you to lie down against his chest. You carefully situate your body close to his and feel his thick thighs wrap around your own legs, his arms wrapping around your mid area. Your breasts touching his forearms. Your skin sinking into the warm embrace of the scented water as you shiver, goosebumps trailing on your skin yet again from the cool air coming from the bathroom. Harry cups his hands into the water and brings it up to splash water on your chest and remaining skin that has yet to make contact with the warm water. You smile from his gentle mannerisms as you lean back into his chest, your head cradling on top of his chest. You look up at him as he smiles down at you, dimples on full display.

Harry kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes and smile in response. His soft touches always make you feel relaxed.

“You want to talk ‘bout it?” Harry asked, his hands making small circles on your belly.

“No. But I need to talk about it,” You reply, holding onto his free hand that’s holding onto the tub. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I have been thinking about going back to school. Law school.” You confess, playing with Harry’s fingers and tracing his knuckles.

“That’s exciting, love. I’m happy that you’re thinking about going back to school.” He soothes your belly some more.

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze. “Yeah, but I know how much you want to move in together. I want to move in together too, but law school isn’t cheap.”

“We’ll figure it out together. I can always pick up extra shifts at the tattoo parlor and maybe sell some of my songs on the side.” Harry assures you.

“But, I don’t want you working too hard for my sake. That’s one of the reasons why I was afraid to tell you this.” You turn your attention back to Harry’s freehand and continue tracing his knuckles.

Harry catches this and softly tilts your head so he could see your eyes. “Hey, lovie. We’re in this together. If you have dreams of your own I will stand by you and help you achieve those dreams. We’re a team, yeah?”

You smile up at him. Tears slowly start to blur your vision. You have always been like this. When new problems would arise you would shut-off, you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you were going through and it was hard for you to ask for help. You were that friend that always told people to reach out to you if they were going through something, but that’s the exact thing that you don’t do. Leaving yourself to fend for yourself; self-sabotaging yourself.

You look away and land your hands on your knees, feeling tears starting to slide down your cheeks again. “I feel like such a loser. Why is this small thing bothering me so much?” You quietly say.

Harry shifts his body just enough so he could see the state that you’re in. He moves a couple of your wet strands away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Hey, don’t call yourself that. You’re not a loser. You’re my beautiful girlfriend who's the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

Pfft. “Strong?” You repeat, feeling an urge of disgust with yourself.

“Hey, whatever you’re feeling, we’ll get through it together. You’re strong for sharing what you’re going through.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Harry.” You turn your head and stare at his eyes. Wanting to feel his lips against yours.

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses your shoulder and notices how your gaze looks at his lips. He meets your eyes and leans close to kiss your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours, feeling his body heat. Your arms run down his tattooed arm and leave his lips wishing for more as you start kissing his swallows on his chest.

He brings your face close to his. “We’ll do this together, lovie. I promise.” He says through kisses, kissing every crevice of your face, making you smile from his facial hair tickling your skin.

As you two finish up bathing and drying your bodies and changing into clean clothes; you started to feel better. You weren’t sure if it was because you finally told Harry what you were going through, or if it was because you had Harry with you being that only person to see you at your lowest and comforting you. You didn’t know, but you felt good.

You both get ready for bed. Harry finishes brushing his teeth and putting a serum on his face that you recommended him to try. You lay down on the bed waiting for Harry to walk into the bedroom. He discards his shirt and throws it somewhere in the bedroom. Thinking about that in the morning he’s going to be looking for that garment all morning. The thought of it makes you smile.

Harry walks to the bed and lies down. He motions you to climb on him and you do as you carefully situate one of your legs to be between one his legs. You look at him to check if he looks comfortable.

“Is this okay?” You asked, he nods and slides a hand under your shirt, his hand running up and down your back. He kisses the crook of your neck. You lie your head on his chest and hear his heart beating in a steady rhythm. With the thumping of Harry’s heart you begin drifting off into sleep.

“Goodnight, lovie.” Harry whispers to you. But you were already out. Harry takes it as a clue that you have already called it a night when you didn’t respond back. He smiles to himself and continues running his hands over your back, feeling your body relax to his soft touch.

That night was the first night that you felt good, happy even. You felt relieved, this was one of the first nights that you slept through the whole night. You didn’t wake up to a nightmare clouding your unconscious mind. You had Harry next to you, hugging your body, feeling his warm breath hit the crevices of your neck, feeling his arms wrapped around you as if you were his only safe haven.

The next day…

“You want me to be there with you while you fill out the college application?” Harry asks you as he takes a sip of his tea.

You hold the mug of freshly brewed coffee and smell the vanilla hazelnut creamer and instantly making you melt.

“You would do that?”

“Of course. I want to be in every step of the college process, if you let me.”

“I would love that, Harry.” You smile as you set down your mug.

“Okay, my love,” Harry kisses the top of your head and whispers "I love you” to you. “I’m going to get something for us to eat. I’ll be right back.” He takes his wallet and spare keys into one hand and leans towards you where you sit in the kitchen island. “Kissy?”

Kissy. A cute little phrase that you would both ask each other to ask for permission for a kiss. A phrase that started since you two were dating for five months. A little phrase that was childish, but you both didn’t care. It was cute.

You smile up at him. As you took another sip of your coffee, then another one. Teasing Harry as a pout started to appear on his face. He then started blinking his eyes furiously making you stop drinking from your mug. He got you there.

“Kissy.” You lean over to him and kiss him. You cup his cheek and run your freehand into his hair. He moaned into your touch making you smile in response.

“I’ll be back, yeah?”

“Okay. I love you Harry.”

“I love you.”

He walks out the door with his spare keys being the only thing you hear as he makes his way down the corridor. Leaving you alone with your mug of coffee half-way filled in front of you. You walk to the living room and grab the laptop that was on top of the coffee table and bring it back to the kitchen island. You set it there and wait. You stare at the black screen of the laptop as your reflection looks back at you. You continue taking small sips of your coffee and wait until Harry comes back.

////////

“Hey, darlin’ I got your favorite snacks and lunch from that Vietnamese restaurant you like.” Harry enters into the small apartment and takes you by surprise. You were reading a book that you always put off. He walked towards you and set the bags of food on the kitchen island in front of you.

“Are you ready, lovie?”

As time passed you completed the university application and stopped yourself to double check on every detail that you added on the application. You felt nervous, anxious about completing the whole college application process, but you knew that it was going to be worth it in the end. You were glad that you had Harry with you filling the application, because you wouldn’t have had the courage to fill it out on your own. You were happy that you were accompanied and had his support. Harry didn’t ignore the anxiety and the way that you would play with your fingers while filling out the online application. This was a lot for you and he understood that you needed a well-deserved break.

“Hey baby, take a small break,” Harry grabs the laptop and closes it, but making sure that he saved the application before doing so. “Here, get some foodsies.” Harry passes you the large bowl filled with your favorite pho.

You take a mouthful of the delicious seasoned soup and sigh as you feel the warmth of the soup comforting your body, leaving you in a relaxed state. “Thank you my love,” you take a napkin and wipe the corners of your mouth. “I missed pho so much.”

Harry smiles in response as he takes a bite of his own pho. He sits closer to you as his knees touch yours. He gave you frequent glances as a way to know that you were eating well and keeping note of your reactions. You were comfortable which made him happy.

The night went along well. You finished applying for the university and only waited to get a response back. A couple of weeks it would take before you would get a response. So you continued going to the bookstore and you were starting to share more things with Harry, something that you didn’t do before. You shared more about your past, your family. He knew about your parents and other closer family members, but you never went into depth with other important people that you grew up with back home. You were happy to share more of your life with Harry.

You both spent more time with each other more often. If you called Harry that you were feeling down, Harry would drop what he was doing and quickly get to your apartment as fast as he could. If you were on your period and Harry knew about it he would stay the whole week to make sure that you were taking care of yourself and to obviously spoil you. Just because flowers were his favorite habit of showing you that he loved you and would randomly gift you little crochet stuffies from a local independent shop. He eventually got you so many that you were running out of spaces where to put them, but you loved every little crochet plushie, they were just so cute!

The more time that you spent with Harry you hadn’t picked up a cigarette. After Harry found out that you were smoking to relieve what you were feeling he didn’t judge or tell you that you had to stop smoking. Instead, he didn’t mention it, but acknowledged that it was something that you picked up when you were feeling depressed. So, you were grateful that he was there with you along the way of you figuring out how to slowly stop smoking.

Weeks later…

And so you waited two weeks. In those two weeks a lot happened. Harry was getting his stuff ready to officially move in with you. Nothing much happened, just helping Harry move in his boxes and get him situated in your now shared apartment. He was excited to start living with you and as he said it “Happy to wake up next to my lovie every mornin’.” You were ecstatic to live with Harry, and, well, he already was living in your apartment when he would stay some nights, but this was going to be different. You were going to wake up next to him every morning and being grumpy on Saturday mornings because Harry would wake you to go on morning runs. On a Saturday out of all days! But you were getting too used to him living in your shared space.

Later that week you received an acceptance letter from the university that you applied at. When Harry came to the apartment from work that same day you told him out of excitement. He hugged you tight and gave you so many kisses that overwhelmed you, but you didn’t care you were too happy. The following week you spent a whole week getting school supplies. Harry came along of course picking out the most random things that he swore that you would use in college. Who needs three white boards and two big packs of big sticky notes? You were content in getting one white board and one big sticky note pack just to make Harry feel better.

“But you’re gonna need two of ‘em, lovie.”

You chuckle at his antics, “Why two Harry? I just need one.”

Harry stares down at the plastic covered white board in his hands. “Cause ya gonna need to jot down our date nights. You can’t fit everythin’ on one white board.” He reminds you.

“Bubba, one is enough.”

You take the white board and pack of stickies with you along with some other supplies. Harry followed behind as he kept putting in colorful markers and journaling stickers in the cart. He definitely made that shopping trip amusing. And you loved every moment of it.

Four years later…

You sat at every class lecture and followed along what the professors talked about. You were present, you were dedicated and it paid off. There were times where you had breakdowns because of the workload that law school brought to you and it was a lot to handle. The anxiety that was kept at bay was slowly creeping onto you during those troubling school semesters that were always heavy with coursework, but you always had Harry there to guide you through breathing techniques. It was a lot, but you were happy that you were pushing through those semesters for you, for your future and Harry’s. You were proud all those days that you showed up to class prepared to learn the material and to later take the bar exams.

Those four years really did pay off. Cap and gown on and a smile on your face as you waited for your name to be called on the intercom. You walked onto stage as you had the urge to cry, but you stopped yourself because you knew that this was your moment. You were ecstatic that you finally met your goal. Going to school and having Harry and your close family members with you during this long journey. Happy that you were no longer alone… well, you were never alone, but you finally knew what it felt to let people in, let people care about you and let them hear your struggles. You were no longer suffering in silence. You were now walking down the stage with a diploma in your hand, holding onto your biggest achievement and you were excited to see what the future held for you. You knew that whatever life would bring you, you would no longer fight it alone, because you had people and you were no longer going to struggle in silence.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #angst fanfic #fluff fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

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pastel-greene · 3 months ago

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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Hunger | Chapter 4

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 7.3k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You immersed yourself in a warm bath not long after returning to your room. Your bathtub was a large square with more than enough room in it. It could easily fit another person your size, but probably only one Sukuna, who it was likely measured after. Its large, flat edges were slightly angled to let any excess water flow back into the tub. A slatted bamboo platform went across the expanse and held a few different washing instruments as well as a small towel. You always grew up with little crates that you would bathe in if you even got to bathe. On a few jobs you had gotten to use nicer ones, but never one this nice. It was definitely a palace grade bathtub.

Your servants had asked if you required any assistance, to which you said no, and sent them off. You wanted to be alone for a minute and think about what the fuck just happened. You had just been giggling, joking, and fantasizing about the man that ripped apart your hand yesterday. And you were pretty damn sure he was doing the exact same, but why? You doubted he regretted what he did, especially since he threatened to do it again, but today he felt different. He wasn’t holding his title over you, he was just being with you. It felt like he was a completely different person and was giving you whiplash.

You sank lower into the tub until your nose barely stayed above the water. He was such an asshole. You still wanted to rip his arms off, but you also wanted to have them touch you again. You didn’t know if it was him in particular or just the fact it had been a few weeks since you had been with someone. In the weeks leading up to your departure, you had either been busy with work or working on a new technique Ieiri had come up with. The work was needed, though. As a technique, you could fully utilize it, but you were having some issues manifesting a curse that could accurately use it too. So it was good that you put in extra time experimenting with it while you were still with Shoko, but your body hated you for it all the same. Your clit still absolutely throbbing from your interaction with Sukuna. Now your joke of fucking the King started to grow meaning you never meant it to have.

You pulled your head underwater and curled up along the bottom of the tub. You shouldn’t want him. You should want to kill him for being an asshole. You always hated people that stayed with people that hurt them. It should be obvious that if someone hurts you, you shouldn’t stay within their grasp. Hell, in your opinion, you should get even with interest. Hurt them how they hurt you and then some. But you weren’t really hurt were you? You were just pissed he was so bipolar and refused to use his words when upset.

You traced along the hand he had wounded. It was like it had never happened. You didn’t even remember the pain now. It was becoming a distant memory. You pulled yourself to sit back up in the tub and looked at your hand once more before moving it to grab the towel on your tray. You folded it and used it to cushion the edge of the tub as you laid your head back. You closed your eyes and breathed in the aroma of lilacs and vanilla. The palace had so many imported scents you had never smelled before. You wondered where they got them all and how they were made. You had heard that the kingdom threw different festivals in the King’s honor that attracted a lot of merchants and wondered if they would sell them there. You bet there were all kinds of goods you normally couldn’t get your hands on sold there.

People aside, your stay at the palace was quite nice. Your food made you feel ways you never knew it could. There were so many spices you had never tasted before and so many textures you had never felt. You wanted to go to the kitchen one day and watch the chef cook. You wondered if you would be allowed to cook as well. Probably not in the Palace’s kitchen, but you weren’t above cooking outside. Although, you weren’t sure how Sukuna would feel about you setting a fire outside and cooking. It might be a very classless look for you. But realistically, you were indeed lacking class. You had never thought that you would end up where you were. You went from being an orphan sold for sex to the King’s guard. You went from being scared of the world you couldn’t see, to being able to drink in the world’s sites without trepidation. You used to beg and scrounge for food, killing when necessary. Now you had culinary masterpieces delivered to your door at least three times a day. Being here, you realized why your town was looked down upon. From the outside, it looked like a bunch of stray dogs fighting for scraps in a town that was barely standing. If you had only ever lived life like this, that would have been all you thought of it. You wouldn’t be able to understand what made it so great. But you were grateful for your past and upbringing, it allowed you to grow up without anything veiling reality. You saw the world for what it was, saw how people acted when they thought no one was watching, when they thought they were strong. Humans hated curses but failed to admit they were just as disgusting and vile as them. They refused to take credit for their part in creating them. The Mother was part of their creation, sure, but she existed in a world without curses for quite some time. Her power only grew into cursed energy when humans came along. Before she was just the darkness, a necessary opposite for light to exist. Human thoughts, their fears, dark desires, unchecked emotions, those are what opened the door for cursed energy.

After your bath, you had decided to go to the library you had recently heard of. One of the servants was kind enough to tell you about it, after hearing that you were asking about what to put on your shelves. You walked along the wooden floors towards the west wing of the castle. Simple, black chandeliers lit with Sukuna’s cursed energy, guided your path in the areas cut off from the rays of the sun. High, domed ceilings made from intricately designed tiles hung above you. Each design was bound to a square bordered by black trim and gold corners. You had seen paintings of previous palaces’ ceilings and the art displayed within greatly differed. Others often showcased aspects of nature brought to life by various colors. These were a dark red with black ink depicting scenes of terror. You didn’t have to look at all of them to know they each depicted acts of violence Sukuna prided himself on.

The door to the library was different from the door to your chambers. Yours was made of black stained wood that was divided into sections by metal bars that linked in the middle to make Sukuna’s seal. This one was made with Zelkova wood left in its natural amber color, adorned with matching knobs lining the edges, and Sukuna’s seal burned into the middle. It was quite pretty, really. You grabbed the ornate metal handle and granted yourself entry to the room beyond. You were met with a room bigger than you had expected and absolutely packed with books. It had shelves lining the perimeter as well as in rows throughout the room. There were even piles of books stacked in different open spaces tied together by red string. You hadn’t thought of Sukuna to be one to care much about reading, but you were obviously wrong.

You walked inside and started looking around. The amount of books felt a little overwhelming, some were even in languages you didn’t recognize. Underneath the books, on the edge of the shelves, there were categories carved into the wood. Currently you were in politics, which you couldn’t care less about, so you wondered out. You eventually found the science section with books ranging from anatomy to topics you had never heard of. You grabbed and looked at a few before reshelving them. Their contents either evading your comprehension or boring your interest.

Eventually, you found a book with what you were looking for. It was a book on the energy within everything and the connection between it all. Most recently, you had been working on various techniques that would allow you to morph something’s makeup just by tapping into its energy. The cursed technique you had perfected prior to leaving home allowed you touch any item and reshape it at will. You could combine and divide energies to suit whatever purpose you needed. You could even change your own energy to mirror another. Paired with your technique to slip into people’s minds, it would be a very useful infiltration tactic. You had experimented in a few different ways when trying to create a curse that could use it, but it proved to be difficult. They always ended up lacking intelligence or imagination. You had tried using your prior methods when creating intelligent curses, but it became tricky to stabilize this time since the curse would be able to fully change their own makeup. They always ended up screwing themselves up beyond repair.

While you were there you decided to look around at other topics. You got a book rooted in fantasy that seemed promising for when you got bored or wanted to escape for a little bit, and a few volumes of martial arts you hadn’t heard of.

By the time you were done, your hands were full and your servants quickly offered their hands instead. You were about to walk out when Geto entered the room. You were behind a few aisles of books, so you couldn’t see him, but you could tell he knew you were here from the way he beelined towards you. Within a few seconds he was turning into the aisle you stood in.

“Wow, I didn’t know your kind could read”, he said while walking up towards you with a smile.

“Wow, you’re openly admitting you don’t know something so common,” you joked back while giving him a very judgy once over, “talk about embarrassing.”

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something before tongueing the inside of his cheek while smiling. He raised his hands in submission, “Got me there. So what are you reading?” He approached your servants before picking up the fantasy book you chose, which you quickly grabbed from him and hid. It one-hundred precent was a dirty little book to help you through your dry spell and you didn’t need him knowing that. He had read it before though so he knew exactly what was in the contents.

“Not really any of your business, is it,” you asked while withholding the book from him.

“I suppose not, but I will tell you that this one has better sex scenes”, he says while handing you the book he had brought in.

You cleared your throat of the slight embarrassment you felt while accepting the book he held out. “I guess I will be the judge of that.”

“I guess so,” he says while smirking at you. “How have things been? I heard you trained with the King this morning and it ended with both of you smiling. I guess all is forgiven or what?”

Your servants all suddenly became very interested in the books around them and the shelves they were on. You weren’t worried about them hearing though. You had been in their minds and knew they didn’t dare gossip about anything that involved the King.

“I don’t know. He seemed really different today, like the total polar opposite of yesterday. I am pretty sure he encouraged me to yell at him and even joked a bit with me. He might’ve been nice just to learn what I was doing and get me to teach him, though. He did threaten to dismantle my other hand, but that was about the only thing he did that matched with yesterday. His threat didn’t really seem to carry any weight behind it. Like I said, I think he was just saying stuff to get me to break formality and yell at him. Not that it really matters I guess. Trying to find out why he does the things that he does seems like a moot point.”

“You joked with the King…and he joked back,” he asks, blinking a few times.

“Yea, I didn’t know he had it in him either but it happened all the same. He seems to be full of surprises I guess”, you said as you lifted your foot behind you and used the toe of your shoe as an anchor while you rolled your ankle around.

“Well I suppose. It is definitely the first time I have heard of it. I mean I have heard of him sadistically joking with his victims, but not in a casual setting”, he says. “But I am glad things went better for you today.” He smiles at you again before awkwardly standing there looking around.

“Me too, and thank you for checking in. I appreciate the gesture. But I won’t take up anymore of your time. I am sure there is a new smutty book waiting to be read by you”, you said with a smile while straightening your back and starting out of the aisle.

“Don’t forget to let me know which one you liked better”, he shouts after you.

“Will do”, you shout back before exiting.

You spent the rest of the day reading the book on energy you had gotten. You considered reading your fantasy books to find out what scenes Geto was talking about, but you figured you should at least start the book you had originally gone for. You had gotten about a quarter of the way through before dozing off in a fitful nap.

The area around you was damp and cold. Your skin had goosebumps shaking across it as you held your knees. Your whole body hurt. Your jaw was sore from being forced open for a prolonged amount of time, your lips were swollen and scabbing over from being bitten and slapped, your wrists and shoulders hurt from being unnaturally bound for so long, your legs were sore from being pushed beyond the limits of your flexibility, and your throat burned from how many screams forced their way out of the acid stained walls.

There was movement across from where you laid. You couldn’t see anything but you could see her. It was like she was inside and outside of your mind at the same time. Her eyes were black voids that seemed to hungrily devour the light like an all consuming abyss split into two. Her jaw hung from her face, only attached by skin that was stretched taut. Inside her mouth seemed to be stained black as if a fire had burned soot stains into it. Her hair was as black as her eyes and seemed to wriggle and writhe like thousands of dark little worms suspended in the air yet forced down by gravity. She comes to you often these days. At first, you were scared of her and pushed her away. Now, you feel comfort in not being alone in your cage. She never spoke to you…not until that day.

Hands reached all over your body in the dark as men laughed. You were just an object of release for them. You weren’t human to them, what you felt didn’t matter. Your cries had died in your throat a while ago as you disassociated from your body. There you found her. Somewhere dark within your mind, she was standing with her hand reaching out. Anytime, you allowed yourself to fall inside that void that grew within you, swallowing up more and more of you with every inch it gained, you found her. Always with her hand outstretched. Always waiting patiently for the day you inevitably took it. You knew nothing would be the same if you took it. You knew you truly wouldn’t be human anymore. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Because you really fucking hated humans in all honesty.

That day you couldn’t take it anymore. All you wanted to do was stab the men around you until they weren’t even recognizable. You wanted to make them pay. To experience all of the pain and fear you felt because of them. You wanted not to be weak anymore. So you allowed the abyss to swallow you, to make you forget everything about yourself as you put your hand into hers and she smiled. Pointed teeth braised in thick black liquid peeked through her lips, the gelatinous liquid started gushing through her teeth and onto the ground as she continued to smile. You didn’t notice but your face was mirroring hers as blood flooded from your mouth. You don’t remember how it got there but you know it tasted of freedom. A taste you wanted to experience again and again.

You awoke with drool dribbling out of your mouth and pain in your neck from falling asleep at your dining table. You slowly sat up, groaning as your muscles announced their dissatisfaction with your decision. You put your hands on your lower back and pushed on it as you arched backwards. You felt pops ripple up your spine before rolling your neck to allow it to pop too. You hadn’t dreamt of that day in quite some time. The day you first used cursed energy. When you told the Mother of the girl she chuckled. She told you that cursed energy can manifest in everyone differently. Yours had built up over years of agony and inadvertently created the technique you first learned— transmutation. Your thoughts of wanting to be stronger than you were and looking like you felt mixed with the built up energy had created an evolved form of you. It was then she told you how big of a part thought played in the creation of cursed energy.

You hadn’t used that form in so long. One of the conditions for using it was to release all of the cursed energy you had stored. The more you had, the stronger the form was. You still used a decent amount of energy for general things and creating curses, but you also stored a great amount. Like any you collected from draining other sorcerers was immediately stored. There was another downside to it as well. It made you go more feral than you could control. Once you turned, you destroyed everything and everyone in your path until you depleted your energy and changed back.

The last time you used it, you blacked out for 2 weeks and turned 12 towns into utter bloodbaths. You had lost yourself in your anger and blacked out. When you had finally awoken, you were being wheeled away in a wheelbarrow full of pieces of human remains. Authorities had thought you were a dead body with how covered in blood you were. You laid in the pile you were dumped in for a few days, eating the remains around you to regain your strength. Once able, you blindly stumbled into the snow. You walked until you found a hut with a man living in it. You knocked on the door crying and told him you had been attacked and that you were blind and scared. He took you in without a second thought. Afterall, you were just a harmless child crying for your “recently lost” parents. He was so nice to you. He sat you in front of the fire and helped wipe all of the blood off of you while trying to console you. He even gave you new clothes and respectfully turned around when you went to change. But when he turned away from you a hatchet appeared in his skull. You remember the sounds he made as he fell to the floor, the fear and confusion clouding his energy as he looked up at you. You ripped the hatchet from his head and chopped him into pieces. Some of him you set up as bait for other animals, and some of him you ate when no other food was available. There, you lived a quiet life for a few months until the Mother stumbled upon you. Thinking back on it, you were a monster before she ever turned you into her spawn. Maybe that was why she chose you.

You walked towards the training grounds the next morning just as you said you would. The air was brisk with a slight chill, which was odd since it was summer. Its oddness became rationalized as you sensed Uruame’s energy in the air. You turned the corner to see them there already staring you down.

As you stepped through the archway leading into the area you could sense cursed energy rushing towards you. You jumped from where you stood and grabbed onto the ridge of the arch as the ground below you turned into ice.

“Y’know there are better ways to ask me to leave. Like with words for example”, you said with great annoyance. It was way too early for this bullshit. They better just be playing around for their sake because you were not in the mood for an actual fight.

Ice shot up from the ground, right for you. Tch. Does this asshole really think they can hit me? You pulled yourself to the realm between and watched them from it. They had surrounded themselves with ice while looking around for you. Their hands were poised and ready to attack when you appeared. Normally, you would have played with them, allowed them to feel like they had a chance of winning before squashing them like the bug they were. Not today. Not after being stuck in memory lane last night. You were hungry for blood, it had been days since you killed. Days full of you taking hits and putting up with bullshit you shouldn’t have to.

You appeared in front of them, their sad blockade of ice shattering from the force of your energy being unleashed. Your hand shot to their throat, fingertips digging into the skin as you lifted them from the ground. Their eyes widen as they told their ice to impale and shred you, but it didn't listen. Your energy was already flooding their body and taking control of their technique. They could feel it. They started letting out screams as their own technique bloomed inside their blood. It tore through vessels and skin as the shards of ice grew.

“I told you to use your words. Now why did you—“, you felt Sukuna’s hand about to grab but you pushed him away with your energy.

You turned from Uruame to see Geto by where you entered, the ice still on the ground spiking upwards. Sukuna landed on his feet after being repelled and looked fucking pissed.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, BRAT?”, he screamed at you as he started pushing against the force field around you. His steps were small and slow, but they continue towards you all the same.

“ME? YOUR ASSHOLE SERVANT ATTACKED ME AND WOULDN’T RESPOND WHEN I ASKED WHY!”, you screamed back at him.

“I don’t think she is lying, King Sukuna. Her trail puts her here and jumping up there before appearing where she is now. I think we should all just calm down and talk about this”, he said while trying to diffuse the situation.

Sukuna looks at Geto and the ice he was referring to. He didn’t think you would attack Uruame without being provoked, but he didn’t know why Uruame would attack you either. He knew they didn’t like you but they had never acted without permission before. “(Y/N) let Uruame go so we can settle this”.

You looked at him then back at Uruame. They were bleeding from multiple places where the ice had torn through them, and one of their eyes was just a frozen ball waiting to shatter. You wanted to finish the job. Wanted to see their insides splayed open for you like a present.

“(Y/N), please”, Geto said as he looked at you with pleading eyes.

You rolled your eyes and sighed before releasing Uruame to fall to the ground. The ice dissipated and your barrier dropped. Sukuna appeared between the two of you in an instant. You gave you a look radiating murder before bending down to Uruame’s level.

“Did you start this”, he asked while propping them up.

“They aren’t good for you. You haven’t been yourself since you heard about them. You had me stalk them for months before finally summoning them. And now you allow their insolence and disrespect. We know nothing about her or what she is and yet you welcome her into your palace and allow her to roam free. She—“, Sukuna slammed their head into the ground.

Geto winced at the sight of his comrade’s skull getting smashed, but you smiled. The sight and sound his skull made as Sukuna crushed it lit a fire deep within you. Pesky piece of shit. You only wished it was you who got to do it.

“(Y/N)”, Sukuna said.

“Yes, King Sukuna?”

“Don’t let them die”, he said, shooting you a cold look promising similar treatment if you fail.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you replied with a smile allowing your power to seep back into them and regenerate their wounds.

Sukuna smashed in their face with all four of his fists over and over before stomping and jumping on their body. He then began grabbing and tearing away pieces of flesh, some eaten by the mouth that had appeared on his hand. Every now and then he would even dip his head down and bite out chunks of them. He ripped off their arms and legs, watching as they regrew in an instant. He even ripped off their head before beating them with it. He looked like a wild animal as every inch of his skin became covered in blood. The display stoked that fire inside you until liquid started to pour out of your lower lips. Sukuna’s pants started to bulge as his own arousal grew from tearing apart and eating his friend. His insults and the sound of Uruame’s flesh squelching and bones snapping filled the air. Blood pooled around you like an ever growing river. This goes on for at least an hour and neither you nor Geto moved an inch. You both watched what happened to people the King actually likes when they cross him. Normally, it was Sukuna healing them while beating them. Now that he didn’t have to bother with it he was going all out.

His assault finally comes to an end and he just stares down with disdain at Uruame before looking at you. He walked over to you and gripped your jaw with his bloody hands. “Geto, take Uruame and leave. No one is allowed to enter this area until I say otherwise. Go. Now.”

Geto briefly looked at you before picking up Uruame and quickly leaving the area.

As soon as they’re gone, Sukuna started petting your hair with one hand, another still gripping your chin, one holding your hip with his thumb rubbing patterns into it, and the last one on the small of your back. “You did such a good job keeping them alive for me. I never had so much fun torturing someone. They all would’ve died somewhere in the middle of it when I stopped concentrating on healing them”, he said while looking you in the eyes.

“What did they mean when they said you stalked me for months”, you asked as you rested your hands on his forearms.

He sighed and looked down for a minute. “It wasn’t in a weird way. I just wanted to know if you were the real deal. I had heard of a sorcerer not restrained by technique that worked as a contract killer. I wanted to see what all you could do and when I was confident you were strong, I had Geto go retrieve you. But I still needed to see for myself, so that’s why I sparred with you in the throne room. But you proved your worth to me”.

He pulled you close to him, his face hovering over yours. “You proved you were made for me. Made to be able to take my strength, made to empower me, made to show me my potential in cursed energy, made for me to bite, made to challenge me.”

His lips were right against yours now. Even through all of Uruame’s blood you could smell his scent. Your eyes flickered between his as your pulse quickened from the unfolding moment. You could feel his dick pressing against your abdomen from how close you were, making both of your breaths grow short and quick. You knew this was crazy. He was covered in blood and still had pieces of flesh in his teeth. Not to mention you were pretty sure you hated him. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. You trailed your hands up his forearms, blood coating them as they slid across his skin until you reached the back of his neck. You ran your nails across his nape and he pressed his forehead against yours while letting out a groan.

“Show me how you’re made for me. Prove to me that you're worthy of me. Make me yours”, you whisper against his lips while drawing shapes on his nape. “Please Sukuna.”

The noise that leaves his throat from you begging him is so low and guttural it sounds like it belongs to the hells. His arms lift you up to wrap around his waist as his mouth crashes into yours. His teeth nip and bite at your lips and tongue before sucking on them. You moan into the kiss as your mouth follows in suit and your hips roll into him. Your hands pull him closer to you but its not enough. There’s still too much in between you. Normally you would enjoy slowly undressing him and teasing each part of his body as its revealed but you were wayyy past going slow. The next minute you feel his skin bare of clothes and against yours. You push your breasts flush against his chest, blood coating them, and moan at the sensation it gives your nipples.

“My naughty girl, who gave you permission to undress your King”, he says while pulling your hair back to get a good look at you.

The force he pulled your head with was enough to rip anyone else’s off, but there yours was moaning out in pleasure from it. “I did. You were taking too long, Sukuna”, you said before gasping as you finally looked down. “You-you have two”, you asked in shock. Although you really shouldn’t be shocked since he has two of everything else. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of him burying them inside you. Fucking your insides until they molded to his shape.

He laughs at your cute little question before slapping you right in the face once and then once on your left ass cheek which provokes a stuttered moan from your throat. “Such a fucking brat talking to me like that”, he says before he shoves one of his fingers into your mouth and grabs your right breast. His mouth appearing and biting on your nipple, making you moan again for him. He slaps your ass in the same spot and this time it is so hard that the sound echoes throughout the premises. The pain shooting through your body makes you scream as your cum drips onto him. Blood dribbles from where your skin broke and you bite his finger. Not completely off but enough that you’re lapping up a mix of his and Uruame’s blood. “Talking to me so casually—“ he slaps it again,”biting my fucking finger—“ another slap has blood absolutely gushing from the spot and tears swelling in your eyes. You decide to get even and bite his finger clean off letting him watch you swallow it. A piece of him inside you. You then suckled on the nub left behind while giving him a bloody smirk.

He groans at the sight as his finger regrows back in your mouth. Fucking hell he didn’t think he had ever seen something so hot. You literally just ate a piece of him because he made your ass bleed. He starts laughing before turning you around and slamming you down into Uruame’s blood. The side of your head and neck cracked from the force of the impact before healing immediately. The crack in the stone remained, though. Your ass hung in the air as his cocks rubbed against it.

“Crazy bitch you really just ate my fucking finger”, he says with awe in his voice. You try to push yourself up but the hand tangled in your hair keeps your face firmly planted down. He couldn’t have you running away, he was just about to finally taste you. “Keep your head down and I will touch you where you want me to, but if you move it I swear to god I will bite your clit off.”

“Please ‘kuna. I’ll be good just please touch me”, you whined out shamelessly. You could feel your slick dripping out of your cunt into the pool of blood. Your body was so needy for his touch it was driving your mind insane.

Again with your informalness he thought. He would correct you if your voice whining out his name didn’t drive him animalistic. He released your head and got down behind your ass. You were so fucking wet for him. He reached his finger out to gather some of your cum and your ass twitched immediately. So sensitive for him. “Stay still, brat”, he warned. Two of his hands grabbed your ass while the other two reached under you and tugged on your tits, fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. Wispy little whimpers flew out of your mouth but you were good and stayed still for him.

He licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole that had your eyes rolling and a whine coming out. He gave you a few more long, slow licks before plunging his tongue into your pussy.

“Yes, fuck, Kuna, yes just like that”, you moaned out as he stretched you open with his tongue. It took all of your control to keep from rolling your hips into his face. “Mmm Kuna feels s’good. Makes me want to ride your face until you’re drowning in my juices.”

Fuck that would be so hot. He wanted to make you cum until you were a fountain for him. He let a groan rumble out inside which had your walls squeezing hard around his tongue. God you were taking his tongue so well, squeezing it and trying to pull it deeper inside you. He couldn’t wait to feel you do that around his cocks. He removed his tongue from your sopping pussy which made you whine before he started licking your ass. You started panting at the sensation, pussy clenching at the lack of attention which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He stuck a blood soaked finger into you, and at the same time, forced his tongue into your ass. Stars took over your vision as your toes curled up. He worked both of them in sync before summoning his mouth to assault your clit too. You started screaming out his name as your thighs began to shake from the overload of pleasure. He added another finger to your pussy and one to your ass and started spreading you, preparing you for his cocks. He knew you would be able to take all 10 girthy inches and still beg for more. That’s because you were made for him. Made to be able to endure whatever sadistic fantasies he had. His perfect girl. He started licking off the blood that was still on your ass and groaned from the feeling that washed over him while he fucked your holes with his fingers and second mouth. He couldn’t wait much longer.

He took his fingers out of you before crawling over you, pushing you down with his body. His free hands pulled your ass apart to help spread your holes for him as he positoned his cocks against them. You could feel that the size was too big but you didn’t care. You would adjust and take him. You wanted it so bad. His face was beside your ear, one of his hands moved the hair away from your neck as he peppered kisses along it. “It’s going to hurt pretty girl, but you can take it. I know you can. I’m not going to be gentle because I know you can,” he said in between kisses and then he was in. It felt like you were splitting into two as you screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was slamming into you at a brutal pace just like he promised as he rested his head against your turned cheek. Before long, you were arching your body into him and meeting his thrusts as you both let out absolutely feral noises from the sensations. You were so fucking full you felt like you were going to burst, you could feel him pushing against your cervix and ripping open your asshole but it felt amazing. You didn’t want it to ever stop. You wanted him to fill you up like this forever. It was so warm under him and the sounds your blood covered bodies made when they slapped together was beautiful. You could hear him panting, groaning, and growling above your ear as he used you. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Kuna-ah-ahh wan it deeper. Wanna watch you go inside me. Want you to mark me while your tear up my insides pleaseee”, you said as your vision blurred from the blood seeping into your eye that was against the ground.

How could he say no to such a request? Without missing a beat he pulled out, flipped you over, grabbed under your thighs to bend you in half, and resumed his brutal pace. His cocks now reached even deeper spots inside you. His tip went through your cervix as you screamed and tears started falling from your eyes.

“Kun gon cum, please, wan cum on your cocks, sssukuunaaa”, you begged in broken moans as your body started spasming. Your holes clenching around him so tight he broke the stone under you with his fist to keep himself from cumming.

“Cum for me brat, cover my cocks with your slutty fucking cum”, he said as he put his hand around your throat and squeezed. You body was shaking so hard he had to hold your hips with two hands so he could keep fucking into you. His own orgasm creeping up right behind yours as your holes started milking him for all he was worth, as if begging him for his cum. He pushed your mouth open with his fingers, blood smearing across your face as he did, and spit inside it before slapping you. You clenched even harder as you started cumming around him again from the defiling act, your eyes rolling back from the overstimulation. He bit your neck as he finally poured his cum into you. Long ropes of white splashing against your walls and pooling inside of your holes. Your holes that were too tight around him for his cum to escape. You could feel as it began to accumulate inside of you. Making your insides stretch further to take it all without tearing. Pain radiated from your neck as he drank from you. Your blood restoring his stamina as his cocks got even harder inside of you. It made your mind go completely blank as incessant moans poured from your mouth.

He pulled his teeth from your skin and licked the area, tasting you and Uruame as he cleaned it. He took a few breaths before moving himself over your face. You were looking at him through blurry eyes completely glazed over with lust. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty, blood covered face as he showered you with kisses. His hips started moving in slow controlled strokes. Letting you both feel every single sensation in greater detail. You could feel exactly where he was inside you and how your insides closed in his absence only for him to open them right back up when he sank back inside you. You held onto his arms as he kissed you. When he pulled his head back you both looked down to watch how he slid in and out of you. His cocks were covered in your blood and both your cum. You wrapped your legs around him and moved your arms up to run through his hair. Lightly tugging on some spots, and running your nails over others. The sensation had him melting into you. He had never been touched like this, never let anyone. And he sure as hell had never fucked anyone like this. But with how heightened his senses were from drinking your blood, he didn’t think he could go any faster without immediately cumming. And he wanted this to last. He felt so connected to you like this. He could feel the energy in both of your bodies swirling together. Dancing around each other before intertwining into one. When they did, he started to feel everything you felt. Your pleasure seeped into him as his seeped into you. He never believed in heaven, but if it existed, this was it.

You leaned your head up as you pulled on him for extra stability and started kissing along his jaw. “I wanna be in your lap Sukuna.”

“Okay, pretty girl”, he said as he lifted you up on top of him. No rebuttal, no anger, just compliance. In that, moment, he just wanted to make you feel good.

Your chests were pressed together and your hands rested on his shoulders as you rolled your hips across his lengths. His hands cradled your back and face, his thumbs rubbing patterns on both. Foreheads pressed together as you both watched you ride him. Only stopping to kiss each other or mark each other’s necks. Marks you both held off on healing for the time being. You started teasing him by pulling him out to just the tips and twirling your hips around them.

“That’s no fair, I don’t remember teasing you like that”, he said with a very uncharacteristic pout.

“I guess I am just a bit meaner than you then, hmm?”

“Ohohohh is that so now?”

“Yes, it is”, you said before kissing him.

He kissed you back while rubbing his thumb along your jaw, “Brat.”

You two fucked the day away in that spot. The spot where you had watched him tear apart his subordinate right before. By the time you two were done, there wasn’t a single spot of skin not covered in their blood.

Notes: …don’t judge me for this chapter ikik shhh. Extras v v

- So when using positive energy or reversed energy, there are times where it doesn’t work because the two people are not compatible. Know this, it would be easy to assume there are some people who have energies that are very compatible. Sukuna is obviously a sorcerer like no other, but so is the reader. They are the only two on their level, which draws them closer. Their crazies match each other. Is it toxic? Again, yes this is Sukuna. But with their personalities, it would be wild for it not to be at least a little toxic.

- Sukuna had recently learned to truly feel his innate energy and not just his cursed energy which are very different. In this chapter when he drinks from the reader, it opens a connection between the two innate energies, one that he couldn’t feel before. It allowed them to both feel everything about each other and genuinely experience connection. This doesn’t happen anytime he ingests someone, it only happens because their energies are the same. Sukuna was originally talking out of his ass about the reader being made for him to make them feel special and delude them. He only partially believed they were that useful to him. But after connecting with them, he fully believes it. He will still be a bipolar asshole though because he doesn’t know any different. Yet.

- Sukuna was pissed at Uruame but would actually consider their punishment to be light. It only lasted for an hour and they’re perfectly fine now. He would punish anyone this violently for genuinely crossing him, especially the reader. It would actually be wore for them because he needs them to be good and listen to him. He needs them in general which means they need to not be undermining him. It would be embarrassing for him if they constantly did it so he would take his time upon the first incident. Making sure they remembered it and wouldn’t act out again. And the whole time he’d tell them how much he cared about them and was doing this so that they could be better.

Taglist: @missroro

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