#kyotani kentaro x reader

[riddlesrose]

sporting someone else's jersey

w/ ushijima, bokuto, sakusa, oikawa, kyotani, atsumu, suna & tsukishima

in which you decide to see how your pro volleyball player boyfriend reacts to you wearing a jersey. a jersey that so happens to not be his, and not even his team?? c'mon now.

a.n; all my favs go pro this is great

ushijima wakatoshi stares you down as you're cooking in the kitchen. you can feel the intense bore of his curious eyes as you welcome him home from practice. his wandering vision takes in the black jersey with the name "sakusa" in big, bold letters across the back. you look over your shoulder when he doesn't answer, and are met with his bewildered state.

"oh are you interested in my new shirt?" you pull at the hem, examining the MSBY jersey look-alike as you turn to face you boyfriend. he takes three long strides through the kitchen before he's caged you between himself and the counter.

"i don't like it. it's representing another team. though i am acquainted to sakusa..." he grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger, pondering for a moment. "no, i don't like it."

you let your head fall onto his shoulder, defeated by his straightforwardness. he runs a hand down your spine, "is there a problem?"

you groan, meeting his eyes, "i thought you'd react more to it, like... be jealous or something, gods.." you say, rolling your eyes.

"well, i am jealous, i thought that was obvious?" he tilts his head to the side slightly, like a puppy.

"no, it wasn't!" you drop your forehead onto his chest and groan again. his 'matter-of-fact' attitude is probably going to kill you one day.

bokuto kotaro eyed the green shirt suspiciously, "when did you get that?"

you hum in a fake thought, "i think a while ago?" you turn, revealing the full front of the jersey. a large number 17, followed by the name sendai frogs.

"hey! it's tsukki-bro! hey, wait..." his shoulders fall, along with his smile. you almost gave up the act right then and there, he looks so upset immediately. he drags one foot after another, stopping in front of you. he pinches the mock jersey and rolls it between his fingers.

"it's not as soft as mine is." he mumbles, eyes still trained on the details of the shirt.

you wrap your arms around his neck and attempt to catch his eyes, but you realize they aren't sad. they're crinkled at the edges like he's smiling wide. seems like he's got you figured out.

kotaro figures you've caught onto his fake sadness, and a smile spreads across his lips as he kisses your forehead, "i saw the receipt on my email, you used my card."

"shit."

sakusa kiyoomi grimaces at your package as you hold it up for him to examine. if kiyoomi didn't find the green utterly horrid, it was the fact that you spent money, probably his, on a jersey that didn't even support his team.

"it's like you spun a wheel with teams on it and bought the first one it landed on," he watches as you rip the plastic off and instantly throw the jersey on. "oh my god."

you pull the shirt over your head, fitting into the sleeves, "what?"

"you're not even going to wash it first?" you pause. you hadn't thought about that, nor the fact that your boyfriend was now judging you twice over.

"i, um... no?" kiyoomi rolls his eyes, a telling look clouds his eyes. "wait, are you jealous?!" you practically leap off the couch, the green jersey falls fully into place, the hem grazing your thighs, as your boyfriend avoids your eyes.

"you are, i knew it!"

"i'm not.." he mumbles, cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink. "why did you pick the sendai frogs anyways? do you even know the player you picked?"

"it was kyotani, and not really, i've only ever seen their team play on tv, like once." you reach around your head and pull the shirt off, throwing it to the side. "but you're jealous!"

"am not."

the jersey was a short lived accessory in your closet, but best believe kiyoomi threw it out later that night. the shirt wasn't even soft enough to turn into a cleaning rag or sleep shirt, in his best opinion.

oikawa tooru, your loving boyfriend, stands in front of you, absolutely fuming as he eyes the white schweiden adler's shirt. what makes it even worse is the name and number you've picked. #20, kageyama tobio.

"get rid of that, like, yesterday."

"um, how about no?"

"what do you mean, 'no'!"

you stand from the couch, "oh tooru, you grew up with iwaizumi as a best friend, you've been told no before." then take off towards your bedroom.

"you-! get back over here!" tooru tails you into the bedroom before you can shut and lock the door, leaving him in the hall. he grabs a handful of jersey pulling you towards the closet as you protest, trying to scratch at his arm like a cat.

"here is a treasure trove of shirts and sweaters at your disposal, why on earth would you need that."

you wiggle free from his, not surprisingly, strong grip and fall back onto the neatly made bed, wrinkling the sheets. "because, i knew you'd freak."

tooru whips around, slack jawed, "oh, and it was iwazumi's idea." if his mouth could fall any further to the ground, you'd have to pick it up for him.

"you're both so horribly mean to me!"

kyotani kentaro, a man of many emotions but little words. for some reason some 15 months ago, you decided that he was a great target for your affection. it took a long time poking and prodding at the volleyball player for his number, and by the grace of the gods, it worked. you broke down his walls and caved yourself a cozy little home in his heart. now, he'd ask for nothing different-

"what the fuck is that."

you look between your drink and your phone, one in each hand, "what do you mean?" you ask with a sweet smile.

he rounds the table, "oh piss off, you know what i mean," and pulls your chair out from the table, while tugging at your oversized argentina jersey t-shirt. the blue shirt ripples under kentaro's hold.

"oh, that! there was a giveaway online on them after the argentina team won their last big game, people online were saying they were soft, so i entered for one to sleep in. i needed a new sleep shirt anyways." you don't miss the disgusted look that your boyfriend sports so well, it deepens as he realizes the name on the back. oikawa.

after a moment, he notices your shoulders shaking lightly in laughter, sensing his displeasure. you rise from the chair, bringing him and his scrunched face into your hold, "i'm just fucking with ya, i specifically picked oikawa, too."

he huffs with a stupid smile, rolling his eyes but reciprocating the hug, "gross, get rid of it."

miya atsumu's jaw drops when he catches a sight of you lounging comfortably on the couch, in a jersey that is most definitely not his. he swiftly makes his way between you and the television, ignoring your protest. his brow furrows when you don't immediately acknowledge him and his pout, (though he will 100% deny he's pouting, miya atsumu does not pout like a child).

you lean back on the couch as he advances, "off, take it off," he says while grasping at the neck, trying to pull the jersey from you.

"atsumu stop, you're gonna stretch it!" you protest, trying to blindly swat his hands away.

he stops, the jersey falls back over your eyes and you're met with the most dramatically hurt expression ever, "you care more about this, than my feelings?!"

"i spent good money on it, besides, you went to school with suna so i thought it would be cute!"

"it is far from cute," he spits, eyes full of envy for what could have been you in his clothes. "if i let you re-steal the grey sweater can i throw that thing out?"

"... possibly."

atsumu crosses his arms, "i'll forfeit my movie choice tonight."

"you've got yourself a deal, sir."

"rin come help me with this!" suna rintaro shuffles off the couch at your call, making his way to the hallway between the living room and kitchen of your share apartment.

he leans on the doorframe as he watches you move around a picture frame, "where should this go?" you turn to him, handing the frame to him. it was a picture of the two of you and the miya twins at the recent festival that passed. it was nice to see the two of them, and thankfully both their schedules allowed for them to come.

rintaro smiles at the picture, gaze lifting to you, who's looking at him expectantly. his view lowers to your attire, a simple pair of black shorts and a shirt he's never seen before.

you catch him examining the jersey-copy and turn around to reveal the name miya across the back. you look over your shoulder and are met with rintaro's sharp eyes, judging your choice of player. and team.

he reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. "hey, why don't we have a bonfire tonight, i'm sure the pit is free and i have the perfect fire starter." you feel the shirt tighten by your shoulder, he's got an iron grip on the jersey, but his face remains calm as ever.

a little too calm, it's kind of unnerving.

large white letters stare tsukishima kei right back in his dumbfounded face. your boyfriend places his gym bag down by the door, walking into the kitchen, ducking under the frame that just slightly too short for him.

"hinata, really?" his voice sounded extremely irritated, but his face softened as you turned to face him.

you place your mug down, "yeah! i remember you went to school with him, i thought it was cool you both went pro!"

"i don't care what that blockhead did. more importantly, where did you get that?" the blonde gestures to your torso, flicking his wrist around distastefully.

you smile, "i ordered it online! since it's a popular team they have their own line of lookalikes, they're really soft too." while you praise the MSBY jersey, kei's brief look of jealousy goes unseen.

"you bought a jersey based on someone i went to high school with?" he steps closer, just to flick you on the forehead, "that's stupid."

you rub the spot, while swatting his chest with the back of your other hand, "you're stupid!"

"no, it's stupid that we're not burning that thing yet."

masterlist

p.s; i was gonna do goshiki but realized how CHOPPED he is in the timeskip. sorry my beloved i can't take you seriously with those baby bangs.

[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."

[nectardaddy]

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

connected with debt by @eggyrocks

               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? : moodboard | moodboard p2 made by @daisy-room

punk beats : basement tunes | broken headphones | shared headphones | spotify

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

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

[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.

[scaredy-katts]

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

                     𖥔    SUBMIT    𖥔

warnings : mdni!!!, nsfw content, dom/sub relationship, biting, blood, fingering, degradation, kyotani's kinda mean but we love him all the same

a/n : in connection with my series on main, has no relevance to the plot I just love kyoyn way too much, if you're only here for the smut he calls her “weezer” as a nickname (yes I put that shit in there tf)

 “Kentaro-” she utters a warning as he presses her into the wall, guiding kisses down her collar bone. She feels out of breath, and her heart rate is through the roof - he knows, and he chuckles.

“What?” Spoken through nips and bites at her neck, eliciting mewls through a bitten back smile. “I know you like it.”

“That's the problem,” she groans. But he bites again, sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of her neck, and she takes a sharp inhale. “Fuck-” She knows he's drawn blood, can feel as he licks her neck clean of it. Part of her wants to melt into him, to submit like she always does without a second thought; but the other part doesn't want to do it here - in a dingy basement with blood on the floor.

“You wanna go home?” He's asking genuinely, she knows it, but the way his teeth pull and nip at her skin makes her lose her senses.

She feels her resolve crumble at her feet when he bites down again, and the sharp moan that falls from her lips makes him smile. “It's a long walk.”

He pulls away, and she immediately feels swindled when he locks eyes with her. He's got that look in his eyes again - like he wants to eat her alive. “You want it bad, huh?” She feels her face heat up at the question, and he chuckles at her lack of response. “We're going home, Weezer.”

“What-?”

He cuts her off, “that's what's holding you back, yeah?” He says it like he's certain of it, but phrases it in a question for her own peace of mind. She nods. “So, we're going home.”

She can feel the heat pooling with every step she takes, he's got his arm around her shoulders and she thinks she might die from the contact. He did this on purpose, she knows it. Makes her wait for it only to pull orgasm after orgasm out of her until she believes she's made of putty.

“What're you thinking about over there?” The question makes her breathless, almost embarrassed, because she knows he's teasing. He likes to play with his food, he always has, and she melts every time.

She doesn't answer for a moment, her cheeks are hot and she feels the need to catch her breath. But he pulls her a little closer and everything is alright again. “You.”

“What about me?” There's a smirk on his lips, he knows exactly what he's doing. She opens her mouth to say something, but the words don't come. She's always been nervous around the topic of sex, and Kyotani tiptoes around the subject expertly and brings her out of her shell.

He sees her hesitation to answer, so instead, he answers for her. He pulls her closer to him, she can feel his breath in her ear and it makes her shiver. “I'll go first, pretty girl,” her knees feel wobbly at the name but she nods nonetheless. “I'm thinking about how good that pussy is going to taste the moment we get home.”

He's so vulgar, so uncouth, the man doesn't have a shred of embarrassment and it makes her cough. “Oh my god-”

“Can't wait to hear you screaming my name, baby. You'll be lucky if you have a voice at all tomorrow.” She wants to press her legs together, to not feel the slick with every step she takes. She takes his hand within her own and holds it hard, squeezing his fingers relentlessly as he keeps going. “Fuck- can't wait to feel your pussy grabbing my cock. ‘Gonna feel so good when you come on me-”

“Ken-”

Every clean thought she had was wiped from her mind the moment he nips at her ear, licks the shell of it and she completely loses her mind with a breath. “If you're good I'll let you ride me, baby, be on top like you always wanted.”

She feels like a rabid animal when he opens the door to the apartment. Like a dog chasing a rabbit, because the moment he closes the door behind them she pounces. She captures his lips, it's sloppy and needy and she feels him smirk against her, but her fingers are already at the hem of his shirt pulling it up.

He's got his hands on her waist, letting her do the work she so desperately wants, until he lifts his arms as she pulls the shirt over his head. “God damn, baby,” he's mumbling against her lips. She's already trying to unbutton his pants, and the grip on her waist tightens.

“Shut the hell up and help me.” It's a demand, and he's almost taken aback, but leans into it regardless. He slips his fingers under her shirt and pulls up, letting her wriggle out of it before kissing him again. Before they can do anything else, he pulls her closer to him and walks her towards the couch.

There's a switch that's flipped in his brain when he feels the couch cushion behind him. He likes the neediness, the desperation that oozed from her, but he wanted to absolutely wreck her.

Her kisses are sloppy and full of lust, he almost loses himself in it before he pulls away. “Turn around.”

It's like he can see the gears turning in her brain, because she blinks and seems confused. “But-”

“I said, turn around.” She's obedient to him and only him, every other man she's been with she ate alive. But not him, not Kyotani. She allowed him the control she so desperately wanted to give up, a freeing feeling of letting go and pleasure taking its place.

He was a good lover, he took care of her, brought her to places that made her vision fuzzy and her ears ring. And did it with a shitty grin and heinous words.

She turns around and shivers, she knows he's taking her in. Drawing his eyes down her like a predator sizing up prey, and her breath hitches when he touches her. He's gentle, tracing over the lines of her body from her shoulders to her waist. He presses small kisses against her; and it's almost like he's apologizing for what he plans to do.

“You looked so pretty tonight,” he mumbles against the skin of her neck and she closes her eyes. “People kept staring at you too, gonna have to mark you up so they know you're mine.” His words are sweet despite the message, and mark he did. She wasn't a stranger to the bite marks and hickies, there was always a plethora of reds and purples littering her neck.

She liked it. Liked the thought of this is how he claimed her, liked that he wasn't ashamed of her so much so he wanted to sink his canines into her. She liked being wanted by him.

“All yours,” she whispers through a breath. Every bite is harder than the last, pulling yelps and moans in tandem as he makes his way down the delicate skin of her neck. He's holding her hips tightly, and digs his fingers into her skin at her words - she drives him crazy, and she doesn't even know it.

He keeps a hand on hip and the other moves down to the button of her jeans. He's achingly slow, meticulous, and she whines when he unbuttons them and slips his hand in. His fingers dip under the hem of her panties, and she lets out a breathy moan when he drags his fingers along her slick. “Shit, baby,” he curses. “This all for me?”

She can't find the words to speak before he finds her clit and focuses on it, rubbing small circles with ease from the wetness. She lets out a strangled moan, between the quick work he's making on her clit and his teeth in her neck she can't see straight.

Her legs feel wobbly, and she's made all too aware they're both still standing when she feels her knees buckle. Kyotani feels her tremble against him, shiver with every nip and bite, and he wraps his free arm around her. “Can't believe you got this wet over some words.” He's mocking her and she whines. “Fucking freak.”

He's practically holding her up, because with every pass of his fingers she loses herself a little more. She's a mess and she knows it, her cheeks burn at her disposition and the heat only grows more at his words. “Ken, please-”  She whiney and desperate, rolling her hips into his hand with a need that consumed him.

“Use your words, tell me what you want, you little freak.” His voice in her ear makes her eyes want to roll back. And if she wasn't a moaning, whimpering mess, she'd tell him to shut up.

“More,” was all she managed before he dipped his fingers down anyways. For a second, she thinks he's stopped, but the moan that passes her lips when his fingers sink into her pussy makes her cover her mouth.

She feels him smile against her neck, and he presses another kiss to her skin before biting down once more. Even with her hand over her mouth, she feels she's too loud to have just started. He usually makes her wait, likes to take his time, to edge. But this is quickest she's been to the coil snapping in her core and she feels like she's going insane.

“You gonna cream on my hand already? We barely started, baby.” He sounds all too proud of what he's doing, and there's a haunting thought in her head that he's about to rip it all away. But the thought is replaced when his fingers hit her g spot, and she feels her voice crack from pleasure. “Move your hand.”

She does it without question, takes her hand from her mouth without a second thought. Because she knows one wrong move and she can kiss her peak goodbye for the next hour, knows that he'd pull her as far as he can then make her plummet by stopping.

But now her moans are on full display, and she feels her cheeks scorch when she truly listens to herself. It's pornographic and lewd, the sounds of her cunt and high pitched moans make her want to cover her face in embarrassment. “Good girl, you sound so fucking pretty.”

The coil in her guts keeps getting wound tighter and tighter, his fingers found the one spot that makes her the loudest and stayed there. Bullying his fingers into her and making a mess of his hand - he wouldn't stop until she was a wreck of the woman she once was.

“Oh my god-” she's breathless when she manages to string together the words. “Please don't stop!” The only thing that followed was high pitched moans, and an unrelenting beg of ‘please.’

“Come on, freak, come on my fucking hand.” And the coil finally snaps, and she nearly falls to her knees at the feeling. She feels dizzy, her head is buzzing, and she slumps back onto the man that is the only thing holding her up at the moment.

Her breathing is ragged, and her throat already hurts. But he bites down on her neck again, and the heat starts back up again. “Lay down, baby, we're not close to done yet.” 

these tags are right off the top of my head sorry, smut taglist is open though <3

@kameyyy @bakery-anon @bokutoko @shortcakebaby @honeekyuu

@a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name

[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

[fuckitupfelix]

BE CAREFUL WITH MY HEART ♡.ᐟ

VALENTINES + 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL ♡.ᐟ

the following works will be mlm / written with male readers in mind <3

PT. I

"no me mires con esos ojos" - d.grayson

PT. II

xtra sugar - j.todd

PT. III

"im not one for romancing" - k.kentaro

[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.

[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!

[nectardaddy]

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

                     𖥔    CHAPTER ONE : ACCOUNTABILITY    𖥔

warnings : 17+ to read, language, addiction, illegal activities, brief allusion to harassment

She's ordered to take ten anger management sessions, but she doesn't even believe she can last one.

The air is cold, and cuts right through her jacket - a hand me down hoodie from her older sister. Weezer, a shitty band in her own right, plastered far too big for her liking across the back. It's too thin to actually break the cold, but it's at least something to cover her arms.

She went to the community center despite her well wishes. But the courts and judges don’t give a damn about wishes and prayers, so she went anyway with a nervous gut and chink in her armor. She doesn't remember the  building to be so big, so daunting. She frankly doesn't remember anything past six months, as she was too high to care about anything else than her next drug run. So she lingers outside, in the cold, by herself and waits.

Her nerves are shot and she's tired, working odd hours at a nearby gas station made her eyes dark and lifeless. The only glimmer of hope is that she's able to sneak a few packs of cigarettes every week, a five finger discount as she called it, and blame the off counts on other addicts that frequent the parking lot. She knows a handful of them, and she feels bad sometimes about blaming them. But the feelings stop just as quick as they come, because she knows they'd throw her under the bus just as fast.

She takes the cigarettes from her hoodie pocket and opens them, only three left and a lighter. She'll need more than just three to get her through the rest of the day, because in her mind, nicotine is a hell of a lot better than cocaine. The first drag hits her hard, the cold air mixed with smoke makes her want to cough, but she swallows hard before it gets too bad. The second, calms her nerves and she feels her shoulders finally drop. The third, she hears her phone ping and she forgets about the serene feeling entirely.

Flipping it open, she reads a text from her lawyer. Real straight laced guy, no nonsense, but damn good for a court appointed guy. The fact he got her out of going back to jail was a miracle within itself.

Suit, sent at 8:19: Session starts at 8:30 today. Are you there?

She replies with a quick, “yeah,” before she closes it and sighs. Eleven minutes until she has to face her fears and enter the building. It's not as if she cares about anger management, she'd go head first if it were anywhere else, take the stupid classes and be done. But this building held memories and a dark past. Held a part of her she had long forgotten about, a part that felt safe enough to share her grievances with other strangers with the same nasty habit.

The only solace she found now was in a pack of cigarettes and her fist through her bedroom door.

Anger was relatively new for her. She read somewhere that extended drug use could flip one's personality on its head, fry the brain, and struggle to make pathways. She thinks that's why she wants to grit her teeth and let her fist fly when the washing machine breaks for a third time in a month, when she used to just sigh and shrug it off.

All the drugs made her bite the hand clean off of anyone that wanted to help - but she's six months sober and still feels the same way.

Her cigarette is almost burnt down when a man approaches her - three more minutes and she would have to go inside - and she takes her chances with staying out in the cold. He's got dark eyes, a permanent scowl, with remnants of a formerly busted lip, and an aura that told her to get away. His attire matched the energy - a punk through and through. For a second she thought she should go inside, but a quick look at the building made her want to heave.

He approached her in a lazy stride as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. If it was one thing she knew like the back of her hand, it was an addict. He was jittery, standoffish, and when his eyes met hers it seems like she's a godsend.

“You gotta light?” His voice was rough, gravelly, like he just rolled out of bed and decided to show up.

“Yeah, hold on.” She fishes the cigarettes out of her pocket again and plucks out the lighter. He's already got the smoke between his lips, and she catches his hand shaking when he reaches out his palm. Addict. “Here.”

He recoils and the cigarette almost falls from his lips. “Are you fucking with me?” He sounds offended, looking at her like a crazed woman when all she really did was offer him the only lighter she had.  

“What?”

“You stupid or something?” That strikes a nerve.

“Are you stupid?” She repeats, but her words have a bite to them. A singe she can feel in the back of her throat, “it's just a lighter, jackass. Light your cigarette or fuck off somewhere.”

“You're the one offering someone a white lighter, Weezer.” She feels her blood pressure rise over the interaction, all this over a god forsaken lighter. And the quick note of the band name on her hoodie makes her bite her tongue. “They're bad luck, ‘put a countdown on your head if you use one.”

“Maybe you could use the countdown.” She pulls the lighter back with a grimace and puts it back in her pocket.

He rolls his eyes, the kind where she thinks they might just stay back in his skull, before he walks off. Muttering under his breath, “can't even smoke in peace,” until he's out of ear shot and can't hear what else he has to say.

“Asshole.”

The room is stuffy and cramped, she feels like she can't breathe because right down the hallway is the door that leads to hell. There's a weight in the air as she looks around, everybody there looks the same type: bad news. There's a guy who's twice her age, and old enough to make it seem like he has no fight left in him - the scowl and black eye tell her differently. There's a woman around her age, maybe a little younger, but looks jittery and skittish - probably went barking up the wrong tree. And the others fall in between the two extremes - normal looking but a festering anger that radiated from them like a space heater.

But the chairs are in rows, and she thanks the stars it's not a circle.

The door to the room opens again and her eyes flicker over in a bored attempt to stay busy. She knows him, Yaku Morisuke, went to high school with him years ago and knows he's one bad decision from committing a felony. His eyes meet hers, and for a moment he looks relieved, before his lips pull into a sly smile and he makes his way over.

“There's no way they got your ass in here,” he's teasing but there's a hint of the same old dissonance. She doesn't believe the man has a shred of kindness in his body, but she finds herself chuckling anyway.

He sits beside her. She's seen him here and there since graduation, doesn't remember if she saw him during her benders, but knows they talked right before she went to jail the first time.

Possession: one count.

He hasn't changed much since then; the first time in means she didn't stay long. The only thing that has changed is his demeanor. Not as flighty as he used to be, more aggressive than usual. “Not surprised to see you here though, it's a shocker they didn't send you sooner.”

He laughs. “They have, three times actually.”

“Shit, Morisuke,” she laughs, but isn't surprised. “What the hell did you do?”

“Apparently it's frowned upon to hit someone with a bottle in a bar.” He talks about it like he's proud of it and gives her a cheeky smile. “Could've fooled me though, I've seen it in a ton of movies.” She remembers him to be a terror in high school, standing at 163cm with a rage topping him out at 195cm. She's seen his eyes go red, and kept it noted to steer clear of the receiving end. Good to know he’s only gotten worse.

Then she gets the question she always does.

“How've you been?”

The answer is immediate, practiced, and honed. “I'm good.” A complete and utter lie. The last time she was even remotely good was before she ever stepped foot in this place to sit in uncomfortable metal chairs and talk about her feelings. “Been setting myself straight finally.” Not a complete lie, but even she feels the sense of doubt in her words. Then she repeats the phrase that everyone is looking for, the only phrase they care about. “I'm clean.”

“Hell yeah,” he gives her a smile. He seems genuine, but there's always some underlying message when people ask.

Sometimes it's religion, that she should find god and it would help her stay clean - god is the one who destroyed her life in the first place, so she always declines. For others it's morbid curiosity, an addict is like an animal at the zoo, they finally get to see one in real life - she always feels prodded at with this one. More often than not, it's to make themselves feel better - they may be fucked up but at least they're not as fucked up as her.

She doesn't say anything else, only gives him a half hearted smile. Then the door opens and closes again, and it's the same asshole from outside.

She notices Morisuke's demeanor changes when he does, rolling his eyes and sitting back in the chair. The blonde’s got his arms crossed, and if he wasn't so small and thinly framed she would actually be a little cautious.

“You know that guy?”

“Yeah,” he groans. She sees a glimpse of the Yaku from high school, and why he's in here in the first place. His jaw is tight and he's opening and closing his fist, a shitty attempt to calm himself down as it's obviously not working. Something happened between the two but he leaves it unsaid. “That's Mad Dog.”

She makes a weak attempt to stifle a laugh, only it catches the guard dog's attention. He's got eyes that could kill her, and for a fraction of a second she thinks she's ok with that. Hopes the man chops her into tiny little pieces, then she wouldn't have to bear the thought of passing the door to hell on the way out.

But he looks away and she's left unscathed.

The man sits down, too close for comfort to the pair and she sees Yaku visibly stiffen. He's only a few chairs away but the blonde next to her seems like he'd rather be on the opposite side of the country.

“What kind of name is that?”

“A name you get when you're one felony away from your third strike.”

She doesn't ask any more questions.

The class starts after that. It's boring, and it drones on. The therapist is a nice woman, kind hearted, but has something to her that lacks all fear. She can tell she's molded the class to what fits her, what protects her from a room full of court ordered rage machines.

The class doesn't introduce themselves. Doesn't go around in a circle and say their name or drug of choice; in this case, offense of choice. It's different than what she expected, but the room two doors down still burns a hole in the back of her mind.

She's supposed to be learning how to recognize her anger, how to fix it, but all she can think about is the bounce in her knee. She focuses on it, the tapping of her shoes was quiet, but loud to her as she counted every one.

57. 58. 59.

If she counts, she doesn't think about drugs. If she counts, maybe she'll forget about the drugs entirely.

It never works out that way though. She counts, she hits 200, then she feels like ripping her hair out at the root. Like screaming until her throat feels raw, then clawing at it to get it to work again. But she keeps counting regardless, and hopes by the time she reaches 200 the class will be over.

123. 124. 125.

She needs another cigarette, if the class wasn't a restriction on her life, she would've gone and smoked by now. But she swallows hard and keeps tapping her foot. Yaku looks over at her, it goes unnoticed, but she feels him nudge her shoulder.

“What?” She's whispering, but it still comes out in a snap. He grimaces, he's one second away from telling her off but bites his tongue - maybe the three classes were finally working out for him.

“Chill out.” He's annoyed, and his gaze is as sharp as a knife.

She mumbles a small, “sorry,” before she stops all together. Now she's just counting and her eyes are looking for anything and everything to focus on.

They catch the guard dog's again.

He's got the same fidgety demeanor as her. It makes her wonder what his drug of choice is, or if he was that reliant on nicotine. He doesn't back down and he keeps his eyes on her - a silent admission that he didn't bow to anyone. So she looks away first and sighs to herself.

There's a speck of empathy for him, the guard dog. Lost humanity makes you do stupid things, detrimental things, illegal things. But the empathy gets wiped clean off at the remembrance of the exchange in the morning. Now she's forgotten the number she was on and has to start over, and it's all his fault.

1. 2. 3.

It's his fault she feels that familiar feeling start to bubble up in her chest. His fault for talking to her like that. His fault for engaging with her in the first place. His fault for being a huge dick.

4. 5. 6.

“You need to become aware of what triggers your anger.” The therapist cuts through her counting and she feels like she wants to scream.

“Once you're aware of it, you can navigate your way around those things.” Right now, it's him that's pissing her off and she doesn't even know him. All she knows is that he called her stupid over a god damn lighter.

7. 8. 9.

“So you need people around you to hold you accountable.” She closes her eyes at the therapist's statement, she knows where the conversation is going and it makes her feel sick.

Another glorified sponsor, a partner, a silly excuse to lie through her teeth about what she was really doing.

She had a sponsor before, someone to “hold her accountable.” An older guy, around 50, used to be on meth's leash and looked the part - she hasn't talked to him since their third conversation. He found it a prime advantage to chat up a younger woman, send her things that made her eyes go wide and grit her teeth, so she blocked the number and relapsed the same day.

She hits ten and takes a deep breath, only to continue counting with her eyes closed the rest of the time.

Her accountability partner is Mad Dog.

The therapist said it's better if they didn't know their partner from the get go, no internal bias, and not an ounce of empathy for a friend. So Morisuke paired up with the guy beside him, said that he never talked to his partners in the first place so it didn't even matter.

That pissed her off.

Gas was only poured on the fire as she continued to sit there and realize everyone else had a partner besides her.

Then she realized there was only one other person in the same situation, Yaku realized it too - the guard dog.

“Don't talk to that guy,” he warns, “just say you have a partner, they don't give a shit.” But she's already out of her seat with a vengeance, and she doesn't even know why. Maybe it was the rush, a shred of familiarity that didn't involve snorting lines off a coffee table. Possibly because there was something welcoming about the anger. Or maybe she was just down right stupid.

“You're my partner.” A curt statement and a venomous tone. He cuts his eyes up to her, he's still sitting down and looks like he won't be getting up soon.

“What pisses you off, Weezer?” It's almost cheeky the way he says it, a jab, but when spoken between his teeth she really can't tell.

“Men that call me stupid.” Cut and dry, “what pisses you off, Mad Dog?” He doesn't even look surprised at the name, if anything there's a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. That bubbling feeling returns in her chest when she sees it.

“Women that offer me white lighters.” 

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[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