#kyotani kentaro x reader

[nectardaddy]

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

                     𖥔    CHAPTER TWO : FLAME    𖥔

warnings : 17+ to read, language, addiction, illegal activities, brief allusion/mention of sex work

She can't remember the first time she got arrested in its totality; it comes and goes in pieces.

A party, neon lights, and a back room with white powder on a table. She remembers to a tee what it felt like before she blacked out: scared. Remembers her hands were shaky, sweaty, her heart pounded out of her chest, and she bit her lips so hard they bled. She remembers the pressure behind her eyes when the people around her looked at her in anticipation.

“Just one line, like old times.”

So she did.

She picked up the rolled up piece of paper and did it without a second thought.

One line turned to two, and two turned to three. Then at some point she blacked out.

She gets bits and pieces of a police raid, but she was too high to recognize the severity so she stayed put with her head on a table. She remembers the police yanked her up, pushed her around, and screamed at her for answers. She thought they were speaking another language, and her heart thumped out of her chest - she threw up on a cop's shoes before they shoved her in a car.

She woke up in a drunk tank in the police station, her head hurt and the bright lights overhead made her feel nauseated. She could barely open her eyes without a painful sting, her mouth was dry, and her makeup was smeared.

She was a failure in the span of six hours. A dire attempt at fixing her life, and putting it back together again completely down the drain.

She stopped trying to get sober for some time after that.

Pills was where she started, snagging them from her foster parents' medicine cabinet here and there. They never noticed - so called dad was always on the road, “work” or so he said, and so called mom was out and about with another man, and didn't give a fuck about her anyway. Her older sister had aged out of the program, but she would've been the one to save her if she was aware of the gravity.

No one knew just how bad it was. Not even her.

She was introduced to Kuroo Tetsuro in high school by Yaku. Tall guy, charming, with a devious business - party drugs. From ecstacy to lsd, she tried it all, but fell in love with cocaine.

From there, her life spiraled into dime bags and failing grades until she barely graduated with a rotten gpa. She learned to only blame herself; it wasn't Tetsuro or Morisuke's fault, they wouldn't have shown her the world if it meant she would ruin it for herself. But she only learned that in the sanctity of a circle.

She only had herself to blame.

Addiction was woven into her dna, and no matter how much pulling and yanking she did, she could never get it out.

Addicted to cocaine, addicted to attention, addicted to caffeine, addicted to pulling others down alongside her so at least she didn't burn alone - a laundry list she kept hidden next to the skeletons in her closet.

She used to blame her biological parents, though she never met them. She found out both were addicts - blamed it on shitty genes - and was never the same since. She pointed the finger at everyone else for her transgressions, until she found herself airing out woes to those just as fucked up as she was.

Her neighbor, who took xanax from his son, blamed his ex wife. The barista, who popped oxy, blamed her shitty boyfriend. The high school boy blamed his friends for getting hooked on ketamine. And the preacher's wife blamed god for creating heroin to begin with.

She blamed it on a shitty hand at life and a stupid decision.

The phone on her nightstand won't stop buzzing, perpetually on vibrate because the ring tone annoys her. After the tenth buzz, she finally opens her eyes with a loud groan and picks it up.

“What?” Her voice is gravely, annoyed, as she flops back down in the comfort of her covers.

“Watch it, asshole!” It’s Morisuke, and she groans upon realizing that he was in a mood. The man was testy, flighty, and a terror - if he pulled the pin to his anger, truly no one was safe. “Last time I'm a good friend if that's how you answer.” He emphasizes the words ��good friend’ like it's supposed to mean something, a jab at her. But she's used to it, and rolls her eyes.

A complicated relationship: her and Yaku. Each other's biggest supporters, but natural born enemies; they toed the line of toxic more often than not.

He called her when he needed something: drugs or a connection. She called him when she wanted an escape, for someone to tell her she wasn't the problem, or simply to get off. And they both would meet in the middle on their psyche - completely and utterly fucked.

Sleep deprivation is starting to get to her because she doesn't think of the consequences of the blonde when she out right ends the call after his statement. She tosses the phone beside her and closes her eyes once more. Her bed is warm, cozy; she just did laundry the other day and she feels halfway normal.

But her phone buzzes again, and this time it won't stop at all.

She grits her teeth and pushes herself to sit up, grabbing at the phone in anger just to get it to stop buzzing. It's still Morisuke, and part of her wants to chuck the phone across the room and watch it shatter. “What the fuck do you want, Yaku?”

“Either get your ass here or have fun in jail again!” The call ends just as quickly as it began, and she finally sees why it's Morisuke's third time in anger management.

She tosses her phone down again, and it takes a moment to process the words in her mind, still groggy from sleep. But her eyes flicker over to the green tinted numbers on her phone, and her stomach lurches to her throat.  

8:20

“Shit!” Suddenly she's scrambling out of bed and grabbing any article of clothing off the floor. She worked well into the early hours of the morning the past few nights, and she has nightmares when she does finally close her eyes. The past haunts her, the things she remembers at least, and she just can't seem to escape it no matter how much she kicked or screamed.

Last night brought her down the memory lane of awful things she did for drugs.

She sold her car, now she walks everywhere. Sold possessions, now she has nothing. She begged, borrowed, and stole. Now she's got a criminal record and a list of friends with their names crossed out. She always wakes up when it gets to the worst of it, and she'll never look at herself in a clean lense anymore. Forever dirty, forever unclean - forever a junkie.

Her hair is a mess, her socks don't match, her clothes are wrinkled and smell like cigarettes. But as soon as she's dressed, she's out the door.

She sold her car for a quarter of its worth all to get high “just one more time” so she runs.

It's cold, and she feels pathetic. Already out of breath and she hasn't even made it a block. But the fear of being incarcerated again makes the burning feeling in her chest dull. The walk usually takes her fifteen minutes, but the street signs blurring past her makes her think she can get there in time.

She doesn't feel the crushing weight on her shoulders when she swings open the door of the community center. Doesn't feel that same sense of dread from last time as she runs down the hallway. She's too focused on the crisis at hand: going back to jail. Not a good look to her parole officer if she skipped only the second day.

She comes to a full stop in front of the door, panting and wheezing for air with her hands on her knees. Her phone is in her pocket, grabbing it alongside her cigarettes in a rush out the door, and she checks the time.

8:35

Five minutes never killed anybody. So she walks in when she finds her breath and keeps her head down.

They're looking at her, she can feel it. Everyone's eyes bore into her so sharply she hisses when she closes the door behind her. Morisuke is on the far side of the room, he didn't save her a seat. Even if he did, she couldn't find it in herself to walk in front of everyone. He knows that.

But there's an open seat tucked into the back, cramped next to the wall. Next to the guard dog, her accountability partner, that guy who called her stupid over a lighter. She bites her cheek hard, she'll have a sore later on but she doesn't even care, she hates the thought of having to sit next to him.

She sees his eyes glance over to her, he's hunched down in the seat with his hood up and his hands in his pockets, and suddenly she feels small - miniscule. He looks at her as if she were nothing, not rude, but unimportant as his eyes move to look forward again.

“You look like shit, Weezer,” he doesn't even look at her when he speaks. Instead, he's got an intense look in his eyes. It looks like he's listening, but really he was completely checked out.

He's got this hard ass look to him that makes her want to scoff. Narrowed gaze and furrowed brows; a perpetual irritated aura that was sharp and burned at the touch. He has a bruise on his chin, black and blue as if he just got it, and she wonders who put it there - she wishes it were her.  

“Says the jackass who got punched in the jaw.”

There's a hint of a pull at his lips, like he enjoys the back and forth. The harsh whispered exchange amongst near strangers felt like a game to him, but pissed her off to no end. She can't put her finger on the exact reason as to why. Maybe it's how he holds himself, standoffish and cold. Or how he speaks to her like she's nothing but a pawn, a means to an end just to get a rise - to fuel his own ego.

She believes it's another reason though. He was an asshole and she was a loose cannon.

He doesn't say anything in response, doesn't give her the satisfaction. Instead, he cuts his eyes to her. Looks her down like a predator sizing up prey, and his gaze lingers, until he looks away entirely.

The boiling feeling in her blood starts again, and she feels like adding another bruise to his jaw right then and there. She grits her teeth, she feels hot and downright pathetic. But one thing about self loathing is that it always made her wallow, and wallowing meant she craved.

So she counts.

She taps her foot with every number in her head. It's quiet, a gentle rap against the dirty tiled floor, and she focuses on the numbers and her breathing. Once she reaches twenty, and the feeling hasn't subsided in the slightest, she feels like getting up from her chair and screaming. Like yelling into the void just so someone, anyone, would hear her. But she doesn't. She stays put and counts faster.

“Cut that shit out.” The guard dog looks at her in annoyance, he can hear the taps and it's starting to pluck a cord.

She doesn't look at him this time. And if anything, his statement makes her bounce her leg even more. “Fuck off, Mad Dog.”

“Quit it.” His eyes narrow and his jaw tightens, if she looked at him she might very well have been scared. There's something about the man that screams something awful, something terrible, something not worth poking a bear to find out.

“No.”

He grimaces, and she's none the wiser. But her stomach drops when he reaches for the back of her chair - she shouldn't have poked the bear.

Her numbers get all jumbled when he pushes the chair forward. It's sudden and jerky, moved with a force only caused by anger and annoyance. There's a loud screech when he moves her chair, it cuts through any conversation or lesson the therapist was having, long and drawn out, slow enough to grab everyone's attention - for everyone to look back.

“Then do that shit over there, not around me.”

He sounds almost proud of the way the words drip from his mouth, callous and to the point. Snarky and laced with venom. She doesn't even have it in her to look back, to even catch his eyes anymore, because she knows the deep settled feeling of hate in her gut is overbearing. If she looked back, she'd add more than just a bruise to his jaw - she would kill him if she could.

Her cheeks and ears are hot, and the therapist asks a question that goes unanswered by her. She can't even hear it over the blood roaring in her ears; the churning feeling in her stomach is the only thing she's able to focus on. Her eyes are screwed shut and her hands ate balled into fists - everyone is staring, she knows it, so she keeps her head tucked down.

“Go to, fucking, hell.” Whispered between gritted teeth, just loud enough to be within ear shot. She doesn't hear his reply, she doesn't want to, she doesn't care.

She doesn't count for the rest of the class. She sat there in white, hot, sticky anger until it was time to leave.

She couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Cramped, stuffy, and anger ripping at her every seam. She felt like she was drawn and quartered, pulled limb from limb by the suffocating feeling. She swallows hard when she finally gets outside, the cold nipping at her face and cooling her down. Like ice on a stove, it melted quickly.

She doesn't remember the last time she'd been this angry; maybe a time that she was arrested, or maybe for something as simple as dropping her phone. (She'd been through three already, there was something satisfying about watching the plastic and glass shatter.)

Her hand reaches for the cigarettes in her hoodie pocket, she got a new pack the night before. Mevius, with some shitty new flavor, but she's smoked enough that the lighter now fits in the pack. She puts the cigarette between her lips and flicks the lighter, but groans when it doesn't ignite.

Her hands are shaky, from anger or the cold but she couldn't tell which. She flicks it again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

There's a moment where she pauses, and things seem to slow. Like the world around her decelerates and calms. She can see her breath in the air, uneven and ragged. The woeful emotion of stupidity washes over her, and she feels at a loss when her eyes flicker to the lighter in her hand.

She's craving, she's cold, she's angry, and she can't even light a god forsaken cigarette.

There's a soft breeze in the air, it makes her shiver. But then she snaps. Like a twig being cracked over a knee, and throws the lighter to the concrete. The action was unexpected and rough; a high tower crumbling out of nowhere and rubble falling wherever it may.

The white lighter cracks, splinters - shatters. The butane in it, or what was left, soaked into the cement and into the cracks. The shards of plastic feathered out around her - a circle, and she feels like heaving.

“You need a light?” The voice spooks her, and she turns quickly behind her. It's the guard dog. He's got the same expression as before: forever angered by something, but his eyes aren't as narrowed as before. Aren't as sharp when he looks at the remnants of the lighter around her.

She wants to spit at him. To tell him off, scream, hit him - something. But she can't find the fight she once had seconds ago. Anger was testy, and tricky, it came in waves. Hit her like a wave until it spit her back out into sorrow; a fucked up pathway created by drugs and frying her brain.

“No.” She's lying through her teeth, she wants a smoke more than anything right now. He can tell.

He already has his own cigarette between his lips, and she hears him light it. She's too caught up to even look him in the eyes anymore; she feels like a dog with its tail between its legs - ashamed and scorn.

He doesn't pass her the lighter, doesn't make the effort to give her something of his - the sneaky habit of swiping lighters was something he assumed everyone had.

He ignites it and holds it out to her.

She looks at the flame and her breathing staggers. The cigarette between her lips almost falls, and a sinking feeling washes over her. He gives her a look to hurry up, to not waste his lighter or his time. So she caves and leans into the flame.

She breathes in and the world goes back to normal - back to shit. Everything is at its normal pace once more, but the sinking feeling just won't stop. “I didn't need your help.” More so to convince herself as she said it aloud.

“Yeah you did.” He sounds sure of it, and she scoffs.

“No, I-”

“A thank you would suffice.” He's blunt and to the point. He's settled back into the same dick head attitude from before.

Her eyes flicker over to him - he's taken a few steps back from where he originally stood - and he keeps his eyes forward as he takes the smoke from his lips. She doesn't say anything in reply, but her gaze lingers for a moment before returning to the ground.

He's nonchalant and brash, cold, and callous. But he offered her a light despite the obvious need she felt of tearing his throat out. It makes her feel sick, so she pushes the thought to the back of her mind and keeps smoking.

“Why are you really here, Weezer?” His words cut through the thick silence, but she keeps her eyes to the ground all the same. She debates on even answering, but sighs as she ashes the cigarette.

“Because people like you piss me off.” She feels as if a fuse in her brain short circuits, the neurons she fried with cocaine fire out of order and scramble her emotions. She doesn't know what she feels anymore, but she cuts her eyes up to him like she's got all the confidence in the world. “Arrogant and rude.”

His eyes meet hers at the statement, and for once she can see the brown in them through a narrowed gaze. “Yet we're in the same class, so what does that make you?” 

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@moriyaku

[sweetfushi]

How about a haikyuu sickfic where the reader has a sleepover at a characters house to nurse them, but they end up getting sick too and now it’s the characters turn to take care of them? You can change the idea if you’d like, good luck!!

NURSING HIM WHEN HE'S ILL

fluff | wakatoshi ushijima, kozume kenma, kentaro kyotani x reader, surprise surprise all of them are ill and idiots for not being careful (or just too in love to care), high temperature | word count. 1.4k ◦ notes. changed this very slightly if you can notice but the idea is very much still there <3

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

“I told you to keep your distance,” you sigh heavily, cupping the mug of warm chamomile tea and honey to measure the temperature. When you’re sure it’s cool enough to hold, you hand it to Ushijima, who’s barely keeping himself sat up on the couch. You wince as he coughs into his tissue again, before taking the mug from your hands.

“Keeping my distance,” he mumbles, “meant leaving you ill.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes, but know he means well. Did this man have any flaws? “And look what caring for me got you.” Once you sit beside him with enough distance between the two of you to ensure your health, you refill his glass of water that sits on the coffee table. In the meantime, Ushijima sips his tea and inhales wheezily. His cough was nothing serious because yours was the same, just an inconvenience that left you too unbothered to do anything other than complain and curse yourself for being so careless.

Ushijima, however, is much quieter than you when ill. The most he’s done is complain under his breath or groan loudly. Even so, it’s clear he’s uncomfortable and bothered by his illness. Especially since it renders him incapable of performing his best in matches. Luckily, he’s not had any upcoming ones due to the last two months being ones dedicated to training before the finals. Meaning, he had more than enough time to get better.

“You’ve officially killed me,” he huffs with his eyes closed.

Well, it appears even when he’s ill Ushijima will find humour in the situation.

You press your fingers to his temple in the shape of a gun - your middle and index finger together, your other fingers curled back and your thumb pointed upwards. “My cleanest kill yet.”

He shakes his head, before coughing loudly into his fist. All the while, you stare at him, waiting for him to calm and settle back into the couch with a tired look on his face. Ushijima glances at you, blinking slowly. Even when ill, Ushijima wants to maintain physical contact with you despite knowing it would be best not too if he valued your health alongside his.

But, he still reaches his hand out and hopes you get the message. God knows he’s too parched and sore to verbalise it.

And being the understanding woman you are, you appear to catch on with the way your lips tilt into a small smile. He knows you love it when he gets like this, particularly needy and aching for your touch. So, you apply a decent amount of sanitiser on his hands and wait for him to slowly rub it along his skin before grabbing his hand.

Your thumb brushes along the back of his hand, enough to soothe him even as another cough builds up in his throat. This time, he catches it in a tissue and gives you a tiredly sheepish look.

“I’ll wash my hands this time.”

“Good idea.”

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma is a good listener when he wants to be. He decided he would not listen to you when you warned him of his cold having the potential to progress into much worse. That being a fever; a fever that left him bed-ridden and highly uncomfortable with any sort of noise, skin contact and unequilibrated temperatures. He was dealing with all three with the sound of the washing machine, your hands placing a damp cloth on his forehead, and the open window of his previously warm room.

His expression is of evident frustration with himself.

“I… maybe,” his teeth chatter, “should’ve listened.”

You bite your tongue to suppress the urge to tell him I told you so, as saying that may only do good for your ego. Instead, you give him a pointed look that he just about catches through his hooded eyes and raging headache. Though even as you treat him, your sniffles pose as the remaining aftermath of your own fever from a week ago. Kenma knows this, so it is now his turn to give you a pointed look.

“Hey, you worry about yourself,” you whisper-shout, careful not to raise your voice to a decibel that would worsen his headache. “You can glare at me when you’re not looking like a sad cat.”

Kenma snarls, but he’s amused. He just doesn’t have it in him to express that, not when it meant laughing or even cracking a smile. But he does let out a small whine to let you know that he’s listening to your uncalled-for insults.

Your lips part as you go to talk again, but seal shut when you decide against it. You don’t want to bother him with unnecessary talk, even if your voice is one of the few he could listen to continuously without wanting to pull his phone out.

You refill his glass of water before helping him sit up in bed and offering him the glass. He takes a moment to just inhale and exhale at a controlled pace, before taking the glass and bringing it up to his lips. The positive thing about this all is that Kenma is very cooperative when ill because he hates being in that state as much as the next person. He’ll complain and grumble, sure, but it would never be towards any attempt to help him get better. Thus, he drinks the water in silence and politely asks for a refill.

“I was…” he mumbles, “gonna practise with Kuroo tomorrow.”

“Not in your state you won’t. Maybe he can FaceTime you as he practises, but you’re going nowhere near that court.” You pause for a moment, considering your words. “Or any other human for that matter.”

Kenma is on the brink of sleep as he stares at you for a moment, before shutting his eyes and sighing in agreement.

KENTARO KYOTANI

Once you’ve finally finished squeezing some fresh orange juice into a glass, you make your way over to the curled heap of illness that is Kyotani. You’d thrown a blanket over him and let him sip on the orange juice with a grumble. You were only a partial cause of his sneezing. The other part came from his open window, either due to the pollen that infested his room or the cool night breeze that unsettled his immune system.

“Thanks,” he manages to say, before slamming the empty glass down on the table just in time to catch his explosive sneeze in a tissue. You thank him internally for having the capacity to do that and not spread his germs (even though you had been the one to spread yours to him).

“Make sure to blow your nose and push the snot out, not suck it back in.”

“Ew, please don’t,” he grimaces. “I mean, I’ll do that and whatever, just please reword.”

You roll your eyes at his excessive disgust, but find it amusing that he can still generate anger when his nose tickles and his chest constricts. You’re not sure if that’s something you admire, but it is certainly something you find entertaining, so you can credit him for that.

Kyotani sees your gentle, almost dazed smile as you run your hand along his buzzcut, smoothing over his head and watching as he allows you to. Ever since you got married, he had made it clear to you that physical touch was enough to satiate him no matter his mood, so it’s no surprise that he’s closing his eyes and practically purring at the feeling of your hand on him.

For a moment, you pull your hand away from his head in order to pull the blanket tighter around him, and this frustrates him. He doesn’t care about the damn blanket, he wants your hand back on his head. Following that thought, Kyotani internally appreciates human incapability to hear thoughts or read minds, otherwise you wouldn’t let his thoughts go for weeks. You tease him enough as is, he’s not sure he can survive anything more.

You practically scream at the sudden sneeze he releases the moment you release your hold on his blanket. He grunts when you smack the back of his head.

“Surely you could’ve sneezed quieter.” You try to grab at his hair in an attempt to pull it, but hear him snicker when you fail.

“You were blowing this place up just as much a few days ago.”

“I’ve never known a sick person to talk so much,” you retort. Kyotani shakes his head at your immature response, but it gets him to fall silent and focus his attention on stopping his sneezes - as if paying closer attention to them would mean he would get better. Maybe it did, hell if he knew.

But, it was nice to be doted on, as much as he won’t admit it. He wouldn’t mind falling ill more often if it meant you’d devote your full attention to him.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[noyasmashing]

If it isn't too much trouble, may I request mad dog with a nerdy reader. In public they have scary dog privileges but in private he becomes such a whiny puppy who doesnt know how to ask for master/mommy to touch him? No hurt feelings if you don't want too, I just don't see enough of him being a sub. Thank you!

CW: names such as pup and mommy are used, semi public, praise, hand job

A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long 😭 tbh i have no excuse

he would be suchhhh a grouch in public. Picture yourselves on the public train together. He's casting menacing glares at anyone who dares to glance your way, positioning himself protectively in front of you. Meanwhile, you're engrossed in your book, wearing a delighted expression that's impossible to hide.

And when you venture out together (a rarity in itself), despite your occasional awkwardness, you effortlessly connect with others over obscure subjects, radiating joy and warmth. Kentaro, on the other hand, stands by your side, arms folded, engaging only with you.

Its quite endearing how different you two are-personality wise. People often wonder why you're with such a seemingly grumpy individual, but they don't see the tender side he reveals to you. He's incredibly sweet and attentive, always accompanying you to your favorite bookstores for the latest releases. Despite his aversion to socializing, he willingly joins you for coffee outings.

What may be the most adorable thing about him, is his sudden shyness in private. Suddenly, he's flushed red, stumbling over his words, nervously fidgeting with his hands, unsure where to place them.

He gives up any ounce of control easily, falling to his knees at your request. Your favorite thing is making him work for his pleasure. He knows what he wants. He wants to cum until he can't think. But he doesn't know how to ask.

Recently, you'd discovered a new favorite pastime: teasing Kentaro in public. There was nothing quite like watching him squirm as he struggled to maintain his tough exterior, only to be undone by his own pent-up desire.

It was a simple matter to get him riled up. A strategically timed pause to admire a book cover, a suggestive lick of a lollipop, or a deliberate lean forward to show off your cleavage would send him into a tailspin. His eyes would flash with desire, his face would redden, and his lips would tremble.

But the best part was the moment he'd snap, his eyes pleading for mercy as he grabbed at your shirt, his voice barely above a whisper. "P-please… y-you… I need y-you…"

You'd feign innocence, playing dumb as you led him on a merry chase. "Hmm? Need me to what, Kentaro?" You'd ask, looking up at him with a concerned expression. He'd hesitate, his words faltering as he scanned the empty store for an escape route. "You know.." He'd mutter, gaze low and hands sweating.

Finally you relented, firmly grasping his cheeks, directing his gaze toward the family bathroom that was tucked away but still in sight of you two. "That'll work yeah?" you inquired, locking eyes with his widened ones, before proceeding toward the bathroom. "What if someone sees us?" he'd nervously stammer, but still following closely behind you.

You'd simply smile, your eyes glinting with mischief. "It makes it more exciting, Kentaro."

Once inside, you'd press your lips against his, drawing out a soft groan as he struggled to keep up. But you were just getting started, taking a seat on the bench, beckoning him closer.

"Y-you want to do it here?" He'd ask, his voice laced with anxiety.

You'd bat your eyelashes, playing innocent once more. "Do what puppy?"

Being the nervous dog he is, he'd trail off, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stumbled forward. You'd laugh at his shyness, running your hands up his shirt and down his stomach as he stood in front of you.

"P-please… touch me," he'd beg, his voice cracking as he dropped his head in shame.

You'd toy with him, running your fingers over his hips as he squirmed beneath your touch. "I am touching you, baby," you'd purr, but he wasn't having it.

He needed something more – something that would make him feel like he was truly alive. And so, he forced out the words: "My c-cock., touch my cock, mommy"

Your eyes lit up with amusement and a hint a sadism, unzipping his pants and pulling his underwear down without hesitation. "That's all you had to say puppy." You'd coo, while wrapping your fingers around his hardened member. It boasted a rather prominent vein tracing its length, accompanied by a slight curve that he found rather embarrassing.

You couldn't resist the urge to tease him with gentle strokes that coaxed a soft whimper from his lips. Spitting into your free hand, he'd gasp at your boldness, wanting to say something. But words quickly faded in his mouth when you smeared it long his length, making him throw his head. He'd look up at you, pleading for more, but you'd merely smile wickedly and instruct him to "be a good boy and fuck yourself with my hand."

Immediately, he would protest with a whiney, "noo I-I can't" his inexperience evident in his hesitant tone. But as you met his gaze with a firm, expectant look, his hesitation gave way to an exploratory thrust. With the help of your praise, he'd slowly become more comfortable with your embarrassing request.

As he quickened his pace, his breath would catch in his throat, his member pulsing in your hand. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his thrusts became more erratic, your seductive voice making it harder for him to stay steady. His usually narrow eyes seemed to be welling up with emotion, and his face flushed.

Your other hand grasped the soft skin of his hips, guiding him into a harsher rhythm. He let out a loud, desperate moan, forgetting their surroundings as he succumbed to his pleasure.

Useless pleas would tumble from his lips, but you refused to indulge them, instead, instructing him to "show that pretty tongue, baby." He had no choice but to obey, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, coated with saliva as he reveled in embarrassment.

He'd pant and whine, his red tip darted back and forth between your hand, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and shame. "M-mama, I'm close.. gunna cum.. c-cum, cum all over," he'd babble, his movements becoming more frenzied by the second.

Your grip tightening around his member, moving and twisting in tandem with his thrusts would send him over the edge. He'd cum with a loud, broken moan, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he convulsed in your grip.

His body felt shaky and weak, his legs trembling beneath him. You stroked him through the aftershocks, praising him as he sat down, still flushed from his climax.

"You did such a good job, pup," you'd coo, making him blush once more. "Just sit there and look pretty for me and I'll get you allll cleaned up."

[jifloulette]

kyotani kentaro pre bf and bf hcs because im in my kyotani brainrot era once again.. (ooc?)

note ; pls i love mad-dog kun so bad it's not funny anymore, i may have gone overboard because of how many i made.. this has been rotting in my notes app so this was DUE 💜

pre bf kyotani who you tried so hard to become friends with because you thought you could make him smile and laugh for the first time in his life, you thought you could change him from being a mad-dog to a cheery, joyful one !

pre bf kyotani who you ask to teach you how to play volleyball — starting with the simple terms like how to serve overhand, what a service ace is, how to block a spike, etcera etcera !

pre bf kyotani who blurts out that he's starting to really enjoy your presence around him. when you ask him why, he'll say it's because you were the first person to treat him nicely, to greet him with a smile and continue to interact with him despite his scary aura !

pre bf kyotani who realizes that you mean so much more to him, that you were becoming something that he regularly enjoys hanging around with !

pre bf kyotani who tries so hard to be romantic when he confesses, leaving a note in your locker asking you to meet him by the volleyball court and when you see him, his gaze goes from your figure to the ground while his face reddens !

pre bf kyotani who then says what he's been meaning to say the second he finds out he likes- no, he loves you. from complimenting your beautiful eyes to telling you how much he cherishes you and wishes you to be his !

pre bf kyotani who now becomes your boyfriend when you accept to his confession by kissing his lips quickly before running away, leaving him confused and lovestruck !

🩵💛

bf kyotani who is mean to everyone and everything except for you. he could and will get mad at his teammates, a random stray dog who keeps barking at him, hell, he even got mad at a random lamp post he had accidentally run into — sometimes, you have to stop him from attacking almost anything that gets in his way !

bf kyotani who now learns how to lower his guard and learns how to become gentle for you, his significant other. he doesn't want to accidentally lash out on the only person he adores so much !

bf kyotani who regularly gets questions from his teammates when you go to their practice and give him a kiss or two on the cheeks, asking him how he'd pull someone as sweet and bubbly as you !

bf kyotani who appreciates how you wait for him during volleyball practice, sitting down on the bleachers, doing your homework to pass by the time !

bf kyotani who will def give you a piggyback ride whenever you say your feet hurt due to how long you guys have been walking. acting all tough and strong but the second you kiss his neck once you're on his back, he melts immediately !

bf kyotani who will always go buy your favorite drink at the vending machine before he goes picks you up at your last class of the day so you guys can walk home together just so you can have enough energy to talk to him about your day. he'll never admit it but just hearing you ramble about whatever makes him fall in love with you more !

bf kyotani who will always snuggle up in your arms and sometimes cry whenever he loses a match, he trusts you as his s/o to know the words and actions to make him feel better !

bf kyotani who will hug you from behind and put his chin on top of your head whilst glaring at the person you were talking to which leads to that person excusing themselves because of the tall man's stares !

bf kyotani who will always split whatever he's eating in half and give the bigger piece to you, whenever you thank him, his face will pinken. and when you tease him for his flushed face, he'll playfully steal your half away from you. it's only when you pepper his face with kisses that kyotani will give it back to you !

bf kyotani who will absolutely soften up whenever he sees you playing with his dogs, he really appreciates you helping him take care of them !

bf kyotani whose bedside table is a spot dedicated to all sorts of trinkets you give to him — keychains, little plushies, even a picture of you two holding hands with a frame you decorated with all sorts of things !

bf kyotani who loves loves LOVES it when you cheer for him so loudly in his matches, he thinks of it as motivation to win. not for his team but for you, so you can be proud of him !

bf kyotani who you notice, is genuinely trying his best to be a good boyfriend, though he may be scary and imperfect, it doesn't stop him from trying his best to show you what a good lover is !

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

[chimielie]

“I’m just saying,” you tell your roommate as she shoves her wallet into her purse while you scoop up two of her bags, “spending so much money here for gourmet groceries is...”

You trail off as you realize that she’s more preoccupied with spending an extra second staring at the cashier she’s been pining after (expensively, you might add, because she comes here every week just to stand in his line) than listening to your half-hearted lecture. You glance back at him with her, jolting when you notice someone crossing in front of you from the corner of your eye.

“Move, register's mine for the next hour.” You look involuntarily at the speaker, who taps your friend’s crush (Yahaba, his nametag reads) on the shoulder. It’s a crowded space, so you stare up at the replacement cashier from scarcely six inches away, absorbing his visage like several blows directly to the kidneys.

He’s thicker-set and shorter than Yahaba, hair shaved to his skull and dyed blond with the exception of two dark stripes at his temples. Two tiny metal spheres straddle his left eyebrow, featuring above lashes so long he might as well be wearing eyeliner (actually, he might be) over burning eyes you could spend hours admiring. And—be still your beating heart—the shaved head reveals thick black hoops hung in his ears, glinting merrily under the fluorescents. There are piercings studded into the cartilage above, too, matching his eyebrow jewelry. He turns a little, so you can see the nametag pinned to his tie-dyed shirt; it reads Tarō, in awful scrawled handwriting.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my whole entire life,” you say loudly, not a single thought passing through your brain prior to or during the process of speaking.

He stops talking and stares at you. The sounds of the store, the squeaks of cart wheels and the music over the speakers, are suddenly headache inducing. Your friend slaps you lightly on the arm, a motion that you read immediately as you did not just say that, holy shit.

“Say thank you, Kyō,” Yahaba says jokingly, and she emits a noise too high-pitched to actually be laughter. Your face, meanwhile, is frozen. You think you might actually be deceased. This must be rigor mortis.

“Don't think I’ve ever been called beautiful before,” he says, squinting those gorgeous eyes like he's trying to decipher a dead language.

“I am so sorry,” you say, reaching out to haul your ass and your roommate’s out of here now. Your hand closes around nothing and you look around to find her engrossed in conversation with Yahaba, who is now apparently off the clock despite his replacement coworker wasting time looking at you like someone might look at a dead fish that had been thrown at them. “Um. I am so sorry. I didn’t intend to... harass you at work.”

He grunts in dismissal, flashing you a smirk that reveals fanged canines, and if you’ve had one thought that’s inappropriate in a public setting, you’ve had them all by now. “I have to deal with—” He tilts his head toward the growing line, cussing under his breath and rolling his eyes. “You have a good night, though."

Despite your miserable shame, you take comfort knowing that your friend finally had a real conversation with Yahaba, even getting his number while you suffered under his intense gaze. You can cope with embarrassment if it brings something good into the world.

The silver lining is gilded over when, at two minutes past ten, you get a text from an unknown number.

just closed. u doing anything now?

this is kentarō from the grocery. i got ur number from yahaba who got it from ur friend.

hope thats ok

You smile at your phone, envisioning the wrinkle between his brows as he typed the last message. You're gonna have to start budgeting for fancier groceries.

[airbendertendou]

various faves nd ways they stim w you! ♥︎ [ including : levi from obey me, izana, kyotani, todoroki from hnl, nishinoya, sanzu, mammon from obey me and connor ]

stimming is normal. everyone stims. this is written w an autistic or neurodivergent person in mind HOWEVER anyone can read it. everyone stims. stimming is normal. everyone stims. stimming is normal. one more time!! do not use this as a way to diagnose yourself please. thank you.

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

i can see LEVI learning your fave kpop / jpop song to dance n sing w you. his cheeks are pink as he does the more hip-heavy movements, but he prefers the sound of girl group songs. its the most exercise he gets and it heightens his stamina, but he breathes really heavily w ease [if youre insecure abt your lack of stamina!!]. wait also matches the color scheme of the mv / dance practice you dance to ):

with IZANA, he sits criss-cross across from you on your bed. pretty eyes are narrowed a bit, but his mouth curls into his half-smile as you wiggle your fingers at him. he grabs your hand and begins pulling you back n forth so you’re rocking but he’s sitting still. it makes you laugh hysterically and he grins so so widely at the sound <3

now KYOTANI does puzzles or word searches with you!! his eyebrows furrow and his tongue pokes out in concentration. stays out of your way and lets you take the lead. if you do your puzzles in a specific way [i go by color <3] he will go to the opposite side of the table so hes still helping but isnt in your space. rubs his feet against yours when they brush

TODOROKI is your personal safe space! a little shelter of your own!! reads to himself when you skitter just into his sight, jus standing there. he doesnt even speak before he raises his arms, eyes still on his book. you dive in, swooping under whatever shirt or sweater he wears, your ear on the center of his chest so you can hear his heart. pats where he assumes your head is, and sometimes reads to you if youre disgruntled

annoys the team when NISHINOYA hears your vocal stims nd he immediately echoes them back to you. immediate responses of movie quotes, song lyrics, or whatever noise your brain is stuck on. [its funny but sometimes you get embrrassed abt the noises your brain decides to loop] but noya really tries his best to make sure youre not shy abt your stims nd lets you know youre happily welcomed!!

imagining SANZU stopping you from picking your skin [lips, cuticles, scabs, acne] by intwining your hands w his. [he also paints your nails matching colors bc nail polish has a gross taste <3] he always always ends up starting a squeezing competition w you, crushing your fingers together softly but never enough to actually hurt you. ends up giving your nose a lil kiss after ):

MAMMON gives you a full body shake lmao like grabbing your arms n shaking you until you giggle. nd he wont stop until youre laughing either!! stressed, sad, angry - he will wiggle you until youre laughing. nd he welcomes you to do the same! any time he looks /: hes silently begging you to shake him about until hes smiling again

thinking of CONNOR nd his led light swirling yellow as he blinks furiously, information flooding into his head. you always copy his blinks unconsciously, scrunching your nose as he finishes. nd he copies the scrunch you do before gently squeezing your nose between two knuckles

——♥︎——

this was v self indulgent but (: hope someone else's mood raises bc of it!!

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[a-pastel-edgelord]

Hiii. I saw ur inbox was open so I wanted to throw some brain rot at you?? I saw ur tags for the post u reblogged with Kyotani.... PLEASE GO ON. Great with kids, loves being around them, working with them—but never wants one himself? Would his partner be the same? Would he consider it with the right person? Is he immune to baby fever? SAVE ME FROM THIS TORMENT PLSSS ❤️ tyily

That was a hot fucking minute ago anon, but 🆗 tagging @mintmatcha because my idea was spawned from their text post.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"You good?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" You look up at Kentarō with a blink. The paper plate you'd been loading with food, is placed onto the end of the buffet table. "Is something wrong?"

The evening has been so nice—as far as you know. It's just a small cook out within the Sendai Frogs group. Tsukishima had surprisingly offered his backyard, and Koganegawa managed to procure a grill from somewhere. Daisho and Mika brought a generous amount of meat while you brought the veggies and rice. Yamaguchi and Yachi are going to arrive a little later with watermelon and booze (as an apology for having to work regular nine to five jobs). Tsukishima's older brother is in attendance as is his girlfriend(?) Saeko—she insists everyone call her by her given name.

There's laughter, music and good food. Everything is as it should be. So why does Kentarō look... anxious?

"Nevermind." He shakes his head as if to clear it. "Eat, go grab a chair."

You nod, picking up your plate and eyeing him as you go to sit. You find an empty spot next to Mika. Daisho just got transferred into the team from the Tamaden Elephants. Apparently he and Kuroo go way back. You can hear Tsukishima complaining about him with Daisho providing enthusiastic support.

You fight to keep a grin off your face and you end up catching Mika's eye. "Tsukishima's favorite pastime is shit talking."

"Oh, I'd call it Suguru's hobby!" You both laugh. "How long have you and Kyotani been together?"

Is this what Kentarō is worried about? Mika isn't the least bit scary. "Since highschool graduation actually. He confessed to me after the ceremony."

"Oh, so you two went to the same school!"

"Nah, I went to Date Tech—I was the manager of the volleyball team. Kentarō and I met through a local gym that had volleyball nights. Then our teams played against one another." You raise a cup in Koganegawa's direction, he promptly drops what he is doing to wave back—spilling water all down his front. Mika laughs again but you just sigh. "He skipped his own graduation ceremony just so he could cheer me on at mine."

"Wow! That's so romantic!" She sighs dreamily. "That'll be a good story for your kids, huh?"

Ah. Of course, you think, they wouldn't know. "Kentarō and I aren't going to have kids."

"Huh?"

You shrug, forcing nonchalance into your expression. "We talked about it and decided we're good as we are. We've gotten quite a bit of grief from our families about it too."

You don't look at Mika, not wanting to be disappointed. You like her, you don't want to give up being her friend. A hand falls on your shoulder. You meet her gaze, it's firm. "It's your business. A child is not a decision to be made lightly."

Relief, cool and sweet, sweeps through your bones. A smile blooms across your features. "My thoughts exactly."

You search for Kentarō, finding him rolling his eyes at Koganegawa's wet shirt. You barely have to stare at him for more than a second before he snaps his gaze over to you. You hold the contact, giving him a gentle wave. He signs to you, all good?

Yes, you sign back, all good.

[krak-jj]

addict Kentarō Kyōtani x reader

warnings! fluff to angst?

wc:190

___

"breath in through your nose. breath out through your mouth. breath in, 1. 2. 3. breath out, 1. 2. 3."

your voice was addictive. no matter how much he tried to focus on anything else, him hearing you help his teammate distract himself from an injured finger sounded...addictive. he didn't know how. it just was. and he hated how much he would turn his head or advert his eye to look in the direction your delectable voice came from.

no matter where he was, it wasn't hard to pinpoint where your voice was. not one bit.

he could be in a crowded hall. you could be in the stands while he was on the court. he could be in class and hear your voice as you pass by.

in short words, he was addicted. addicted to the sweet velvet sound your voice made, how you made him feel, the way his eyes searched for you in any situation.

it. was. amazing. he didn't know how else to describe it. but only if you weren't with somebody, somebody he respected. then maybe he could be addicted to you without worry.

__

masterlist

[loko4koko]

>fanart_credit: (l->r) emel muziro/_planktons, ascahq, MMMA/ウムマ, W4W7o (via danbooru, n/a, zerochan, twitter)

content_key: ✩=fluff | ꨄ=nsfw | ✟=angst | ⚠︎=dark content

> ꨄ dont_ever_tell_me_to_go_away_from_you

>ex_husband!matsukawa x_reader

>>word_count:6521

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[rinsoap]

boys who get clingy when they smoke. cocky at first, blowing the smoke into your mouth before capturing it with a kiss. "y'like that, pretty girl?" he says softly, giggling against your lips, his arms resting on your shoulders. you playfully push him off of you, making him laugh harder. "hold this for me" when you look at him like that, who is he to say no?

"yes ma'am" he says and parts his lips to accept the joint you place between his teeth. he would do anything you asked, the only thing on his mind how you make opening a window look so beautiful. he is truly convinced it’s his love for you in his heart making his chest so warm. you turn around and walk back to the bed he’s now laying down on with the joint in hand, flopping down next to him and taking it from his fingers. you take a hit as you stare at the ceiling. you're saying something about a new anime you're watching, but he's too focused on the way your lips just looked so good. you turn your head to face his to see him already staring at you intently with the goofiest smile of admiration. "you have the prettiest way of speaking, y'know that?" you shake your head and sit up with a chuckle. "you're out of it"

“it’s not the weed baby i’m just so in love with you” he muses before pulling you on top of him and smothering you with kisses.

all he wants to do is stay in bed n nap with you among other things sleeping half on top of you, trapping you in his big arms, face buried in the nape of your neck. he whispers lazy mumbles of how good you smell before trailing off to sleep as you stroke his hair. when he wakes up he begs you to let him roll it on your stomach

the song that played in his head when he was staring at you: at your best (you are love) by aaliyah.

atsumu. SUNA. bokuto he just gets even more touchy. brazil! hinata. MATTSUN. makki. kyotani it's lowkey tho. SEMI. konoha.

[lufvg]

⌕ [ hq boys when you play with their hair ] — !

warnings: probably ooc, not every character!!!

——————-——————-——————-————

unconsciously leans into your touch :

kurro, sugawara, oikawa, atsumu, nishinoya,

teases you ( he actually loves it and acts like he didn’t totally melt into your touch ) :

kageyama, tuskishima, osamu, matsun, yaku, hinata, sakusa

‘Ignores it’ because he’s used to it ( or he thinks it’s normal because he’s never been in a relationship before and thinks all girlfriends do this to their s/o’s ) :

kita, asahi, daichi, yamaguchi, makki, kenma, suna, ushijima

Is bald ( bozo’s ) :

Tanaka, mad dog

[nectardaddy]

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

connected with debt by @eggyrocks and amber 44 by @moriyaku 

               𖥔    WHEN ROBBED OF ALL OPTIONS — GO FUCKING FERAL.    𖥔

warnings/CWs : 17+ to read, language, angsty, drugs + alcohol, addiction, violence + blood,  illegal activities, broken/dysfunctional families, mental health struggles, anger issues, trauma, inaccurate knowledge of court systems, inaccurate knowledge of mma, flawed (real) characters, I will never make a yn not angry shut up 

gotta light? : playlist | moodboard | moodboard p2 made by @daisy-room

what're you in for? : taglist open. send an ask or reply to this post.

see what character you are with this quiz

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @crypt-0rchid

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name

@localgaytrainwreck @standcom @solzscribblez @sojusprings

[sweetfushi]

HIS RED FLAGS

angst, hurt/comfort | rintaro suna, kotaro bokuto, satori tendo, kentaro kyotani x reader, difficulties with expressing oneself, difficulty taking criticism, harsh bluntness (unintentional), anger issues | word count. 0.4k ◦ notes. they're trying their best </3

RINTARO SUNA

Sometimes he finds it hard to express himself, not necessarily because he’s faced trauma or hardship, but because he’s never exactly had anyone open up to him. He appreciates that you’re so willing and confident in him to express your own emotions but he sort of just stares at you when you wait for him to do the same. Especially when you’re arguing, he’ll say most things with an unintentionally apathetic tone, despite the fact that he truly means well. You can’t always detect that though, thus resulting in you feeling severely neglected.

KOTARO BOKUTO

He finds it difficult to take criticism, even where it’s constructive. Even when you politely call him out on something, his mood and smile will drop instantly. He views criticism almost as a way of making fun of his capabilities to do things, even when people have the opposite intention. He’d listen when you try to reason with his sudden change in mood, telling him that what he views as hate is actually the product of love and how much people care for him. It would take him a few hours to snap out of his bad mood.

SATORI TENDO

Although he tries the best he can to do otherwise, Tendo speaks his mind. Initially, you viewed it as a green flag, grateful that he was honest with you. However, sometimes you needed sweet treatment in times of despair or pain, and he had trouble holding his tongue. His teasing tended to turn into blunt remarks that you had to glare at him for, which would quickly make him seal his lips after apologising promptly. Sometimes he catches himself before you do once he sees your expression start to anger, which would cause him to reword whatever spills from his mouth.

KENTARO KYOTANI

He gets mad quick. God knows he’s trying, especially for you, but his therapist had insisted that you must be patient with him for both your sakes. He’d get mad over the smallest things and stare at you incredulously when you do nothing but smile sheepishly at his outbursts. Yes, it satiates him slightly to see you so calm, but it also just causes him to walk away with a fire still heated in his chest. He always apologises though, you never have to prompt it out of him, he’d eventually approach you with his hands in his pockets and an apology spilling from his lips (following which you’d tackle him in a reassuring hug).

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[noyasmashing]

KENTARO KYOTANI

FICS

Whiny puppy contains names such as pup and mommy are used, semi public, praise, hand job, crying

DRABBLES/THIRSTS none yet!

HEADCANNONS none yet!

[taintedtort]

"Kyotani!"

your voice rings through the gym, stopping the conversation that Seijoh‘s team was having. said boy turns his head to look at you, a scowl pulling on his lips when you shouted his name like that in front of everyone. he can’t be too mad though, not when you’re waving so enthusiastically, obviously happy to see him.

he grumbles something under his breath before breaking apart from the group to walk over to you, ignoring the gazes of his nosey teammates. they’ve never seen you before, and he certainly hasn’t said anything about you. they’d definitely remember if the Mad Dog had mentioned someone, especially someone as attractive as you.

in reality, you two have been dating for a few months now, though you’re keeping it quiet. he doesn’t necessarily mind anyone knowing, he just hasn’t specifically told his team because he doesn’t want them teasing him about it.

when he reaches you, he grunts in greeting, and you smile as you extend his jacket he lent to you the other day.

"here, i washed it," you chirp, looking much too nice to be talking to someone like Kyotani. he shakes his head at your offer though, waving off the jacket.

"keep it, i never wear it anyway," he grumbles, keeping his voice low so his teammates don’t overhear. his words make you smile though, and you nod eagerly, holding the clothing to your chest.

he can hear his teammates whispering amongst themselves, trying to guess the relationship between the two of you and how you know him. it irks him, and he’s trying his best not to just drag you off somewhere a bit more private to talk to you. he knows that would only make them even more curious though, so he’s stuck standing a respectable distance away from you while listening to his teammates gossip.

"do you wanna walk home together?"

your voice brings his attention back to you, his ears drowning them out as he listens to your sweet request. practice is nearly over anyway, and he knows you were probably waiting for him in the first place, which makes his chest feel… funny.

he only nods in response, gesturing for you to wait outside so he can grab his stuff. there’s no way he’s letting his teammates near you, they’d only bombard you with stupid questions.

"okay! hurry up," you urge, smiling at him in a way that makes his earlier annoyance immediately melt away.

before you turn to leave, you tip toe and give him a quick peck on the cheek, one that has nearly his whole team gawking and gasping. it leaves him a bit surprised too, and he can feel his ears get warm from embarrassment. you look cheeky though, practically skipping out of the gym to wait outside for him like you didn’t just shell shock half the team.

as soon as you’re out of sight, an uproar follows as his teammates surround him, immediately asking questions and demanding details. he just rolls his eyes, huffing out short answers as he goes to gather his stuff.

…brat. ♡

sort of a start of my kyotani series, which will honestly just consist of random drabbles and whatever else i can think of.

[illubean]

these guys do that stupid shit that's like "he's mean because he likes you" then when you're fed up and kick his ass for being annoying he falls harder and no I will not be taking any criticism

-Satoru Gojo, Kei Tsukishima, Kentaro "Mad Dog" Kyoutani, Soul Eater Evans, Leorio Paladaknight, Gray Fullbuster, Inosuke Hashibara, dare I say Katsuki Bakugo