#sydrabbles

[shions-heart]

((so i saw this art on twitter and fell in love with the idea of kuroo idly playing with kenma’s hair without thinking . . . and this happened. enjoy~))

It's been a really long day.

First exams, and then practice runs late. Coach Naoi goes out and buys a bunch of burgers for everyone once it's clear they're not going to make it home for dinner. The team sprawls out on the court to munch on the food, and Kenma takes the opportunity to immediately lay down on his side, using a volleyball as a pillow, and close his eyes. He's exhausted.

"Kenma, eat." Kuroo sits in front of his legs, nudging them gently with his elbow.

Kenma curls inward instinctively, burying his face further in his arm, as he tucks it around the volleyball. It's too much effort to sit up and eat right now, and he ignores any further attempts at rousing him. With a sigh, Kuroo gives up, yelling for Taketora to not hog the rest of the burgers and save one for Kenma. Knowing he'll get at least some rest now, Kenma relaxes against the wood of the court. He can feel his muscles growing stiff as a result of not doing enough cool down stretches, but he's too tired to care. He'll care later when it's difficult to move, but Kuroo will carry him if he gives him the right look.

Speaking of Kuroo . . .

Kenma feels the soft brush of fingers through his hair. He opens his eyes just slightly, thinking Kuroo wants his attention, but he's talking to Yaku and Kai beside him between bites of his burger. As he does, his fingers continue to run through Kenma's hair, lifting the strands, twirling them absently. He doesn't seem to realize he's doing it.

Normally, people touching him without his consent irks him. He definitely doesn't like people messing with his hair, moving it away from his face when he keeps it long and down for a reason. But this . . . this feels kind of nice. Kuroo's not tugging too hard or tangling the strands. His touch is whisper-soft and gentle, and Kenma imagines it feels like this when he pets the stray cats they see on the way home sometimes. A shiver runs down his spine, and goosebumps prickle his arms and the back of his neck, hidden beneath his sleeves and hair.

Kenma feels his cheeks grow warm, and he quickly shuts his eyes again. He doesn't make a sound or move a muscle, afraid if he does Kuroo will realize what he's doing and pull away. He'll probably apologize, which Kenma will hate because he doesn't like it when Kuroo apologizes for things that aren't his fault or actions Kenma doesn't mind him doing.

The fingers continue their tender movement, and pleasant tingles follow. Every once in a while, Kuroo's fingertips brush against his temple or the edge of his ear, and more heat blooms across Kenma's face and down his neck, into his chest. Thankfully, Kuroo's attention remains elsewhere, until Yaku says, surprised:

"Did Kenma just fall asleep on a volleyball?"

"Looks uncomfortable," Kai hums in agreement.

"Oh." Kuroo's fingers stop, as he no doubt looks down and notices. Kenma hears his soft chuckle, and his touch falls away. "I guess so. He can sleep pretty much anywhere, though, if he's tired enough."

"The second years had exams today," Yaku observes. "No wonder he's wiped out."

Kuroo's hand shakes his shoulder. "Kenma. Hey, Kenma."

"Mmrph." Kenma again buries his face, resenting Yaku somewhat for speaking up and ruining the moment.

Kuroo laughs again. "Come on sleepy head, it's time to go home. If you're that tired you can sleep on my shoulder on the train."

Kenma wrinkles his nose. "You probably smell," he says, even as he pushes himself up.

"I do not!" Kuroo protests, before taking a quick sniff at his underarm. He grimaces. "Well, maybe some. I'll hit the showers before we go, how about that?"

"It's whatever," Kenma says around a yawn. It's not as though he hasn't sat next to a stinking Kuroo before. And if they're going home, he'd rather do it now that he's up and awake than spend more time in the gym waiting for Kuroo to shower.

Kuroo stands, grabbing Kenma's arm to help him up as well. He notices the first and second years have already gone, and it's just Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai left in the gym, along with himself.

"When did everyone leave?"

"Man, you were really knocked out, huh?"

Kenma doesn't think he was, though. Was he so distracted by the feeling of Kuroo's fingers in his hair that he completely lost track of time? How disturbing. His face is growing warm again. Ducking his head to hide it behind his hair, he shoves his hands into the sides of his pants in lieu of pockets and heads for the door.

"Well, I guess we're leaving then. See you tomorrow!" Kuroo calls to the other two, following him.

He grabs their bags by the door, slinging them both over his shoulder instead of making Kenma carry his. A sting of guilt hits his chest, but he doesn't reach for it. His arms feel like they're connected to cement blocks anyway, and his feet shuffle against the sidewalk. He stifles another yawn.

"Don't tell me: you stayed up late playing your games even though you knew you had exams today."

Kenma makes a noise that's neither a yes or a no. He did, but he doesn't feel like being scolded. He knows he did well on his exams. Kuroo always helps him study.

Kuroo reaches over and ruffles his hair, a poor substitute for his ministrations earlier. Kenma swerves away, annoyed.

Kuroo laughs. "Make sure you go to sleep on time tonight! Make sure you eat, too. Don't think I won't follow up on that!"

"Fine," Kenma mutters, as his scalp tingles.

He ends up dozing on the train despite his best efforts, slumped against Kuroo's shoulder. He doesn't smell terrible. Kenma waits for him to start playing with his hair again, but his hands remain in his lap, thumbs twiddling.

Kenma squashes down any sense of disappointment he feels rising within him and remains still until he actually falls asleep.

[shions-heart]

if ur still doin the kiss prompts could i get 1 for semishira (〃▽〃);;;; thanku!

aaaaaa semishira!! i hope you like it!!

set in the being human ‘verse because i had to (listen, i had to; we all needed some shirabu pov in this au)

1. “Good morning” kiss

Shirabu wakes first. He usually does, thanks to Goshiki getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to run with Ushijima. Most of the time Shirabu goes with him since he’s already awake, and the run does help get his body and mind working and ready for the day. But sometimes he just wants to sleep in, and that’s when he crawls into bed with Semi.

Except he’s so used to waking up early, that he does anyway. At least Semi doesn’t squirm as much in his sleep as Goshiki. Shirabu finds it rather peaceful, lying quietly next to his upperclassman, listening to the soft sound of his breathing and the birds chirping in the trees outside. With the curtain drawn, it’s still dark in the room. Outside the bedroom door, he can hear Goshiki’s footfalls racing back and forth, no doubt having forgotten something on his way out the door. He calls for Ushijima to wait for him, and Tendou’s laugh carries up the stairs. When Shirabu sleeps in Semi’s room, Tendou stays with Ushijima, so he probably got roped into the early morning run. Yamagata yells for Goshiki to keep it down, to which he shouts back an apology.

Finally the front door slams shut and silence falls over the house once more. Shockingly, Semi slept through all of that. Shirabu turns onto his side, studying the face beside him. Semi looks younger when he sleeps, Shirabu’s noticed. His expression isn’t pinched with worry or annoyance or fighting some emotion Shirabu can’t read. His hair lies limply against his face and pillow. It looks soft, and Shirabu can’t help but reach out to brush some of it back gently.

He’s still getting used to the feeling that fills his chest. He didn’t think he was capable of it for a long time. It grew gradually, over time spent with Semi and Goshiki, and even the others. Even when he recognized it, he tried to deny it, because it seemed so unlikely that any of them would reciprocate.

But they had, and he’s still trying to figure out how that’s possible.

Inching closer, Shirabu bites his lip, watching Semi’s dark eyelashes flutter against his pale skin. His gaze falls to Semi’s lips, open partway as he breathes through it, a tiny line of drool soaking into the pillow beneath him. Shirabu smirks, wishing he had his phone on him to take a picture and blackmail him with it later.

Since he doesn’t, he moves one finger to break the strand, wiping it on the pillow afterwards before leaning forward to slot his lips in-between Semi’s. He presses gently, not really wanting to wake him up, just following through on what the ache in his chest wants. He catches himself lingering, though, despite himself, and then he feels Semi exhale against him. His breath kind of stinks, and Shirabu starts to pull away.

Semi’s lips chase his, though, latching on firmly, as he kisses him back. Shirabu freezes, realizing he’s been caught. He can’t help but return the kiss, though, the ache in his chest growing stronger, as he pushes his fingers deeper into Semi’s hair, holding the back of his head as the kiss continues. It seems like several long minutes have passed before Semi pulls away first, this time.

His eyes blink open, and Shirabu stares back at him, not saying a word. He’s not going to admit to anything.

“Good morning,” Semi says slowly, a question in his eyes.

Shirabu removes his hand from Semi’s hair, turning onto his back as his nose wrinkles. “Your breath stinks.”

“You didn’t seem to mind so much a second ago,” Semi chuckles.

Shirabu’s face burns. “Whatever. I’m going to make coffee.” He sits up, swinging his legs off the bed to stand. Before he can, though, he feels Semi’s hand wrap around his wrist. He pauses, glancing back at him.

“You okay?” Semi asks, his eyes still hooded with sleep.

“Fine,” Shirabu says after another pause, pursing his lips. He tugs his wrist away. “You can sleep more if you want.”

“No, I’m definitely awake now,” Semi says with a smirk, sitting up. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Shirabu nods, standing then to make his way toward the door, willing his cheeks to cool. The ache has lessened, replaced with a warmth he’s still getting used to as well. He doesn’t mind it, though.

He kind of likes it, actually.

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

kuroken with 21 heh

ohohoho thanks! i hope you like it!!!

21. Jealous kiss

The girls in Kenma’s class are really annoying. Some of them are fine. They keep to themselves or engage with their friends in quiet tones. But most of them are loud and they keep talking about boys and how they rank in measures of attractiveness from “cute” to “cool” to “hot.” They especially like comparing the different club captains. 

Hearing them talk about Kuroo in such a shallow way pisses him off. They go on and on about his grin, his hair, his body, comparing him to some of the other captains, talking about how he either measures up or doesn’t or surpasses them, until Kenma wants to fling his phone at them and tell them to shut up. He doesn’t, of course, but he does make his way quickly out of the classroom as soon as he can.

Kuroo’s waiting for him outside the gym like he usually is, scrolling through his phone as he leans against the wall. He looks up as Kenma stalks toward him, his expression lighting up the way it always does when he sees Kenma. Have those girls seen this Kuroo? Would they compare this look to someone else’s? 

The thought makes him even more irritated than before, and just as Kuroo’s slipping his phone into his pocket to greet him, Kenma grabs him by the front of his team jacket, yanking him down in order to press a firm kiss on his lips. Kuroo’s hands flail about before landing on Kenma’s shoulders. He doesn’t push him away, surprisingly. In fact, he starts to kiss him back.

Kenma pulls away, his face burning. That hadn’t been the point of this. Actually, what had been the point? He suddenly can’t remember.

Kuroo stares back at him in complete shock. “Huh? Uh, what?” he asks, brain short-circuiting in a way that’s almost visible.

“The girls in my class are annoying,” Kenma says by way of explanation, stepping back and releasing him.

“So you kissed me?” Kuroo asks incredulously, obviously not seeing the connection. “Care to expound on that??”

"Not really.” Kenma moves past him into the gym, leaving Kuroo sputtering behind him. Still, as he starts his warm-up stretches for practice, he realizes he does actually feel better. He bites back a smile and decides to be extra difficult today. He can’t let Kuroo get any ideas about what just happened.

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

Okay there were so many good choices for the drabble meme. I could legit pick a pairing for each one honestly. But I’m gonna stick with 2! (Don’t feel pressured to do both though! Just one is perfectly fine, whichever you feel up to doing)!! Can I request #20 for Semishira and #38 for Tensemi?? (Coming atcha with the shiratorizawa ships, because I am always ready to have feelings over the idiot swans).

being human ‘verse because of course it is~ i hope you like it!!

20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” / 38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

tw: violence, injuries, death

Shirabu Kenjirou usually knows what to do. He’s intelligent and strong, and now that he knows what he is, has accepted it, he can control the part of him that’s half-demon. He’s powerful. He’s ripped monsters to shreds with a single thought. He’s banished demons back to their dimensions with a flick of his wrist. His magic is silent and deadly and few stand a chance against him in the heat of battle.

Yet despite all that, he’s unable to do anything, only stand frozen and watch, as a bolt of red energy strikes Semi Eita in the chest.

Time seems to slow. Even as the battle rages all around him, his teammates struggling to push back Malikra’s army, all he can see is Semi, as he falls, eyes wide with shock. Shirabu can feel pain spark across his own chest, through their bond. It feels as though someone has fired an arrow directly into his heart.

“EITA!”

The sound of Tendou Satori’s voice jolts him from his daze. Tendou’s there, suddenly, catching Semi before he can hit the ground. Shirabu moves forward before he can register what he’s doing, sprinting toward them, as Tendou kneels, cradling Semi in his arms. He’s gone deathly pale, sparks of red magic emanating from the hole in his chest. Tendou covers it with his hand, and he musters up a weak smile, as Semi stares up at him, gasping, his fingers scrambling for a hold on his arm.

“Hey there, Eita. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” Tendou’s voice is light, but Shirabu can hear the tremble beneath it.

Shirabu drops to his knees beside them, yanking Tendou’s hand away from the wound. It’s deep, and Shirabu doesn’t have to know anatomy to see that the bolt pierced Semi’s heart. The heat cauterized the wound, but the damage is extensive. Already Semi’s grown pale, his eyelids fluttering closed, as he struggles to take his next inhale.

“Shit,” Shirabu mutters, laying both hands over the wound, as Tendou continues to hold him, taking Semi’s hand in his and grasping it tightly.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Kenjirou-kun’s going to fix you right up,” he says. He sounds cheerful, but Shirabu can see the way his face has gone almost as white as Semi’s.

Concentrate …

Shirabu pulls his gaze away from Tendou’s face, from Semi’s, focusing on where his hands are pressed against Semi’s chest. He draws up his magic, as much as he can, pushing it into the wound, commanding it to heal. What good is his power if he can’t save those he loves?

Please. Please. Please.

Semi’s grown still, his fingers limp in Tendou’s grasp. Tendou brings them up to his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks. Shirabu scowls, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He could always feel the magic of their Infinite Bond like a ball of warmth in his chest, fluttering rhythmically like a second heartbeat. That warmth is fading now, even as he struggles to keep hold of it. It can’t be too late. He got here in time, he knows he did. His magic will work. It has to work.

“Don’t fucking die on me,” he mutters, shaking his head. His vision blurs, but he blinks back the tears, forcing more magic from his hands, until they start to glow with a golden light. “You hear me? You’re not allowed to die, so wake up! Wake the fuck up!”

I can’t do this without you.

“Come on!” He shoves his hands down against Semi’s chest, using his magic to bolster his strength. The wound has healed, he can feel the skin beneath his hands whole once more. That means his heart has healed, too. Now he just needs to get it working again.

“Tendou-san! Put him down!”

Tendou starts, pulled abruptly out of his grief. He quickly lays Semi out on the ground, giving Shirabu a better angle, though he continues to hold his hand. Shirabu moves swiftly, straddling Semi’s hips, as he pushes all his weight and power into each compression. All around them, the battle continues. Shouts of the witches casting spells and the howls of the creatures they’re fighting blend together in a cacophony of sound, but Shirabu hears it all like a distant rumble on the horizon. All of his attention is on Semi’s still form beneath him, on the gradual waning of the warmth that’s kept him connected to his partner for so long.

“Come on, come on,” Shirabu mutters, shoving his hands into Semi’s chest, over and over again. Tendou’s watching closely, fingers clasped around Semi’s limp hand, as he holds it against his own chest. Shirabu swallows hard, as the tears begin to gather once more.

No. I’m not giving up.

“If you die, I won’t forgive you! You have to come back! Eita!” He gathers his magic, holds it tightly in his chest as it grows stronger and hotter within him. He can see the golden glow surrounding his hands traveling up his arms to his shoulders. He’s encased in the brilliant light, can feel it searing over him like a wave of fire. He brings up his hands, curling them into fists high above his head, before he slams them both down onto Semi’s chest, as a ferocious yell tears from his throat.

The thunderous blast of magic knocks Tendou over, as well as several of those fighting around them, as ripples of magical energy burst from Shirabu and travel across the battlefield.

Semi’s eyes fly open, blazing gold as he gasps, his back arching with the force of the inhale. Shirabu’s fingers curl into the tattered remains of Semi’s shirt, as he hunches forward, panting heavily as the energy subsides and exhaustion overtakes him. His arms tremble, and he can feel the tears spilling over now, slipping down his cheeks unchecked. Semi’s eyes return to their normal color, as he looks around in bewilderment.

“Eita!” Tendou’s up again, grabbing Semi’s hand once more and holding it with both of his as he bends forward to meet Semi’s gaze.

“What-what happened?” Semi asks, sounding completely lost.

“Kenji-kun just brought you back to life like a real badass, that’s what happened!” Tendou exclaims. He reaches forward to brush Semi’s hair back from his face gently. “You gave us quite a scare there, SemiSemi.”

“Kenjirou?” Semi says quietly, a question in his voice.

Shirabu sniffles, not moving from his place on top of Semi, fingers still tangled in the remains of Semi’s shirt. His chest shudders, as he suppresses the sob that threatens to push through the lump in his throat. He can’t bring himself to speak. All of his strength seems to have seeped out of him, leaving him feeling tired and weak. But the ball of warmth has flared back to life in his chest, its faint beat overpowered by the rapid pounding of his heart, but he can still feel it. It’s still there.

Semi sits up, still holding onto Tendou’s hand, as he wraps his other arm around Shirabu, pulling him in close, fingers sliding up into Shirabu’s hair. He presses his face into Semi’s warm neck, as a tremor runs through him.

“Hey, now, it’s okay. I’m right here,” Semi murmurs into his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s still a battle to finish, still monsters to defeat, but Shirabu lets himself have this moment, lets himself cling to Semi and forget about everything else. Because he’s back, he’s here, he’s alive, and that’s all that matters right now.

[shions-heart]

Hiya! ✨ Hope you're having a great day💖 I just wanted to know if you could do the number 22 with KageHina for the writing prompt if you can🙈 You're work is amazing and just thank you for all of it ✨😊

hi!! oh gosh thank you so much!! i haven’t written for kagehina in foreeeever but i hope you like it!!

22. Giggly kiss

Kageyama stands directly in front of him wearing such an intense expression, Hinata finds himself bursting into nervous giggles.

“What’s what that face, Kageyama-kun?” he asks, hands reaching to curl into the front of Kageyama’s shirt. “It’s just a kiss.”

If anything, Kageyama’s frown intensifies. “I know that,” he says, his voice low. There’s a flush of red spreading over his cheeks, as he takes a small, deliberate step closer.

Hinata grins. He’s nervous too, he realizes, and for a moment they continue to just stand there, waiting. Hinata suddenly wonders if he’s supposed to make a move first. Is that what Kageyama’s waiting for? He rises up on his toes, just as Kageyama bends forward, and they end up colliding with a smack that sends them both reeling in opposite directions.

“Kageyama!!! Why did you do that?!” Hinata wails, grabbing at his forehead where pain has erupted across his skull.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, dumbass!!” Kageyama roars back, rubbing at the spot on his own forehead.

“You ruined it!”

“I didn’t know you were going to move first!”

They both stop, breathing hard and glaring at each other. Hinata lowers his hand, realizing suddenly the complete ridiculousness of this situation. He erupts into laughter, his sides hurting from the force of it. Kageyama continues to frown at him, as Hinata stumbles back against the wall, gasping for air.

“You’re … so bad … at this!” he hiccups between giggles.

“Whatever. It’s not like you’re any better,” Kageyama mutters, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Hinata grins, pushing off the wall and hopping forward to grab Kageyama’s fists. He starts at the contact, watching him warily from beneath his dark hair. Hinata tilts his head to meet his gaze. “Kageyama-kun~” he sings softly.

“What?” Kageyama asks stiffly.

Hinata rises on his toes once more, brushing his lips against Kageyama’s. The warmth that radiates through him at the contact has him vibrating, and he stops only when Kageyama grabs his arms to hold him still. He bends toward him, leaning into the kiss to deepen it with the exact precision he uses when playing volleyball. Hinata can’t stifle the second giggle as the mental image of Kageyama kissing a volleyball comes to him.

“What?” Kageyama asks again, leaning back just slightly to frown at him.

“Nothing!” Hinata insists, grabbing the back of Kageyama’s neck. “Kiss me again!”

Kageyama does, and Hinata decides he’s not so bad at it after all.

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

Kuroken 23, or Bokuaka 14

14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

Keiji’s brain is doing the thing, again. It really shouldn’t feel as much like the end of the world as it does, but then again anxiety doesn’t always make sense. So here he stands, staring across the street to where Bokuto Koutarou is talking with a cute girl, his mind supplying an entire list of reasons as to why he’s probably most definitely flirting with her.

1. He’s smiling at her.

2. She’s smiling back at him.

3. They’re laughing now, and she’s grabbed his arm for support.

4. He’s not pulling away from her touch.

5. He’s leaning forward, now, telling her something excitedly, his eyes bright, hands gesturing.

6. She’s watching him with a small smile full of fond affection.

Keiji looks away. He and Bokuto have only just started dating, after Keiji finally worked up the courage to confess. He’d been stunned, honestly, when Bokuto responded with enthusiasm in the affirmative. It still doesn’t feel completely real.

Maybe it’s not. Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere. Maybe when he asked Bokuto to “please take care of me from now on” he thought he meant it as a friend.

He values me as a teammate, and possibly as a friend as well, but as anything more than that? Could it be I’ve misread something somewhere? He probably wouldn’t cheat on me, but he’s so damn friendly and enthusiastic towards other people, would he even realize he’s flirting if he is? Would it be cheating if he doesn’t see us as a real couple? I should’ve expressed myself differently. I should’ve told him outright that I’m in love with him. But if I do that and he’s not there yet emotionally, won’t that complicate things further?

“Whoa, Akaashi! You look like you’re thinking really hard about something! I can see smoke coming out of your ears!” Bokuto grins at him, waving his hand in front of his face as though ridding the air of said smoke.

Keiji blinks. The girl is nowhere to be seen and Bokuto has crossed the street to stand in front of him. He inhales sharply, wondering if he should say anything or just let it be.

“You want to head back now? I think we’ve done everything I had planned … oh! unless you want to stop by the gym and practice some before we head home?” He grins, eyes bright.

“Sure,” Keiji says, only half-listening.

“Uh, sure you want to head back to our dorm or sure you want to practice?” Bokuto asks, scratching the back of his head and tilting it to the side.

Keiji hesitates. “I don’t think I’d play very well if we were to practice,” he admits. 

“Oh? Are you sick?” Bokuto asks, his expression shifting to one of concern. He lifts his hand to press his cool palm against Keiji’s forehead.

Keiji closes his eyes, swallowing hard. “Bokuto-san … I didn’t misunderstand last week, did I? I confessed to you … and you accepted my feelings.”

“What? Of course I did,” Bokuto sounds confused, now. “We’re out on a date right now! I mean … I planned it as a date. Was it not good? Did you not have fun?”

Keiji huffs a soft laugh. “Of course, yes.” He opens his eyes. “Sorry.” He reaches for Bokuto’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. Bokuto squeezes back, but he’s still looking at Akaashi like he’s missed something. “When I saw you talking to that girl … my mind went to some strange places, and I doubted myself.”

Bokuto looks even more confused, if that’s possible. “What? That girl right now?”

Keiji nods. “I thought you might be flirting with her.”

Bokuto reels back in disgust. “What?! Ew! No! That’s my cousin!”

“Oh,” Keiji laughs again, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Relief fills him, and his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I suppose that explains things, then.”

Bokuto turns toward him, suddenly serious. “Akaashi,” he says much too intensely for the situation, placing his hand on Keiji’s shoulder and looking him directly in the eye. “I’m with you, okay? Always. We’re together. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Keiji nods. “Thank you,” he says, bowing slightly out of habit.

Bokuto laughs and pushes him back upright, stepping forward to kiss him. Keiji leans into it, into him, closing his eyes as he returns the kiss.

His mind blissfully silent.

[shions-heart]

can I ask for 24 with tsukkiyama? ♥️

omg tsukkiyama!!! it’s been so long . . . i hope you like it!

this could either take place in the omam ‘verse or the being human ‘verse, whichever you prefer~

24. Returned from the dead kiss

Tsukishima awakes slowly. He’s lying on his back on the ground. He doesn’t remember how he got there, but his chest aches. Reaching up, he touches the spot gingerly, his fingers coming around bloodied. Sitting up, he looks down at his torso, seeing the blood there but no entry or exit wounds. What happened?

“Ts-Tsukki . . .”

He turns toward the familiar voice, blinking at Yamaguchi kneeling beside him. His face is a mess of tears and snot, eyes rimmed red and swollen. His freckles stand out starkly against his pale skin, and before Tsukishima can ask what’s wrong, Yamaguchi throws his arms around his neck.

“You’re alive, you’re alive,” he babbles, his wet lips moving over Tsukishima’s cheeks, forehead and nose, as he kisses him again and again and again. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it worked. You’re alive.”

“Was . . . I not?” Tsukishima can’t remember what happened. One minute he was fighting, the next he was waking on the ground with blood on his chest. Had he died?

Yamaguchi pulls away, staring at him incredulously. “You were dead for five minutes, Tsukki! I-I didn’t think . . . you . . .” He hiccups softly, sitting back on his heels.

“Oh.” Tsukishima stares at his friend, at the tears welling up in his eyes, and his chest aches for a different reason. He looks down at his chest once more to avoid eye-contact, but Yamaguchi takes his face in his hands, lifting his head.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” he says seriously.

Tsukishima blinks, and realizes suddenly he doesn’t have his glasses. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t--”

Yamaguchi cuts him off with a firm kiss. It catches Tsukishima off-guard, before he realizes it really shouldn’t have. He’s not entirely sure what to do with his hands, so he lays one lightly on Yamaguchi’s shoulder, kissing him back tentatively after a moment. He’s never kissed anyone before. Exhaling slowly through his nose, he relaxes into it, realizing he likes it. It might be impossible to promise he won’t end up dead on a battlefield at some point in the future, but he decides he’ll do it anyway, for Yamaguchi’s sake.

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

18 kuroken 😁

hi!! thanks for the prompt! I hope you like it~

18. Surprise kiss

When Kuroo gets home from work and sees Kenma engaged in his PSP, he fights a grin. He sits with his back against the armrest of the couch, knees to his chest, hunched down with the console a few inches from his face. He has his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, brows furrowed, so Kuroo knows he’s concentrating on whatever game he’s playing.

He doesn’t call that he’s home. Instead, he quietly sets his backpack down and slips out of his shoes, sneaking up behind the couch, brushing away the cat that comes to greet him. Thankfully, Jiji doesn’t make a sound other than purring, rubbing up against his hand despite his attempts to push her away.

Kuroo waits until Kenma’s face relaxes, knowing he’s passed the difficult part, before hopping up and bending over the back of the couch to press a kiss against the side of Kenma’s forehead.

Kenma jumps, throwing his fist upward into Kuroo’s nose.

“Ow! Fuck! Kenma!” Kuroo rubs his sore nose, wrinkling it a few times to make sure it’s not broken or bleeding.

Kenma scowls up at him. “Don’t sneak up on me,” he says, turning away with a huff.

Kuroo laughs, crawling over the back of the couch to push Kenma’s legs down in order to wrap his arms around him. He can feel how quickly Kenma’s heart’s still beating, and he snickers again. “You should’ve seen your face,” he says with a grin.

Kenma tries to wiggle out of the embrace, but Kuroo clings to him until he relaxes with a sigh. “Welcome home,” he says, patting Kuroo’s head lightly.

Kuroo nuzzles his face into Kenma’s neck, breathing in his scent. “I’m home,” he says happily.

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

Heya, hope you're having a wonderful day! ✨ I would love if you could do a number 22 with IwaOi, for that writing prompt thing, If you don't mind🌸✨🙈 Absolutely love your work by the by!!

hello!! thank you! I hope your day is going well too! adkjhfgh i’m glad you enjoy my work :’) this isn’t much but i hope you like it!

22. Giggly kiss

They’re tangled on the couch, a movie night gone awry once Oikawa started nipping at his neck in the middle of Godzilla’s rampage. Iwaizumi tried to concentrate on the film, but soon found himself hopelessly distracted. He gave the movie up for a lost cause and focused instead on kissing Oikawa senseless, which he’s doing pretty successfully, he thinks, until he feels Oikawa starting to laugh beneath him.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, pulling back with a faint frown.

Oikawa grins up at him. “Iwa-chan and Godzilla have a lot in common,” he says. At Iwaizumi’s narrowed eyes, he continues, laughter bubbling up between his words. “Both are brutes with spiky ‘hair’ who communicate with grunts and violence!”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “That’s what you think,” he says, digging his fingers into Oikawa’s sides. He wants to laugh at him? He’ll give him a reason to laugh.

“Ack! Stop! So cruel!” Oikawa falls into helpless giggles, as Iwaizumi tickles him.

“I’m cruel? You just compared me to a kaijuu!”

“A very powerful kaijuu!”

“I’m not a monster, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi shakes his head, wondering why he puts up with this.

Oikawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, shaking his head. “No, Iwa-chan’s not a monster. Just looks like one,” he says breathlessly with a teasing grin.

“You’re so annoying,” Iwaizumi complains, and he bends down to kiss him again, this time to shut him up. Oikawa giggles a couple more times before returning the kiss eagerly, and Iwaizumi forgets to be irritated. There are much nicer things to feel, after all.

kissing prompts!

[shions-heart]

abt the drabbles: 8 and/or 11 and/or 20, all for iwaoi (EMPHASIS ON THE OR PLS FEEL FREE TO DO JUST ONE ITS NOT UR FAULT IM GREEDY)

/squints at you

i would do all three but i’m running low on time due to the end of my shift approaching, so i’ll just do one for now~

8. Seductive kiss

Oikawa is in one of his moods today. Like the darkening clouds on the horizon, something has been hovering around him since that morning. He’s extra obnoxious when he gets like this, overcompensating whatever anxiety has settled in his chest with loud complaints and exaggerated insults. He’s going on one of his rants now, voice light and airy, grin sharp and pointed, like it’s not a big deal but it totally is.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know what’s wrong, and the last couple times he’s asked, Oikawa has brushed off his concern with a laugh. He’s starting to get irritated, but he knows throwing a volleyball at his head isn’t the right response, this time. He’s not being annoying to needle someone or exploit a weakness. He’s genuinely upset.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says, cutting Oikawa off mid-sentence. He takes Oikawa’s elbow, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He doesn’t check to see if anyone is around, only moves on instinct, grabbing the front of Oikawa’s jersey and yanking him the few centimeters down to press a kiss onto his startled mouth.

Oikawa jolts, but Iwaizumi keeps a firm grip on him, deepening the kiss, drawing it out, long and slow, until Oikawa begins to relax, returning it somewhat tentatively, unsure of what it means or why Iwaizumi’s giving it. Oikawa doesn’t need to understand the why. He just needs something else to concentrate on. Something to pull him away from those dark clouds.

Iwaizumi licks past Oikawa’s parted lips, drawing a soft sound from him, as their tongues meet. He lingers only a moment longer, before pulling away slowly, allowing the contact to continue until the last possible moment when he breaks it.

He takes a step back, and watches Oikawa’s eyes flutter open, a pink flush coloring his cheeks. He stares, lips still parted and wet from the kiss. “Iwa-chan?” he squeaks, clearing his throat immediately afterwards, embarrassed.

Iwaizumi turns away, his own face on fire, the heat spreading to his ears and down the back of his neck. “Just … shut up for a moment,” he mutters, hurrying forward quickly.

Oikawa follows, silent now, and Iwaizumi hopes that his thoughts are far away from whatever plagued him before. He’s pretty sure his own thoughts aren’t anywhere near where they’d been. Keeping his head down, he continues walking, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop their trembling.

It was only to distract him. That’s all.

Unless …

kissing prompts

[shions-heart]

24 for Kuroken?

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Kuroo stares down at the open chest of the young man in front of him and feels the cold grip of trepidation take him. A mess of wires, copper, and metal stares back at him, and he grips the pliers in his hand tightly. He’s a medic, not an engineer or a mechanic, and even though he has the schematics of Kenma’s mechanical heart right next to him, he’s terrified that if he does anything it’ll stop the heart all together, killing him instantly.

“Kuro.”

Kenma’s soft voice pulls him from his petrified state, and he swallows hard. “Uh, yeah. I know. Sorry.” He runs his free hand through his hair, making it stick up even wilder than before. “I really think we should get Yakkun. He’s never worked on a cyborg before, but he knows how to fix the ship so he--”

“No.” Kenma shakes his head just slightly. “I want you to do it.”

“Kenma, this is a really bad idea. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m a doctor, not a mechanic!”

Kenma moves one hand off the table, reaching to wrap his fingers around Kuroo’s wrist. His skin is warm, a direct contrast to the cold metal that makes up the majority of his internal organs. Kuroo has no idea how it all works, the artificial paired with the organic. It doesn’t make much sense, even to his scientific mind. He’s done surgery before, but only on pure organic beings. These wires are completely foreign to him.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.” Kenma’s voice is soft but insistent, and his large golden eyes stare up at Kuroo without fear.

He really does trust me. Kuroo has no idea how he came to earn such faith, but he feels a new sense of determination come over him. He nods firmly, pulling the schematics closer.

“Right. Uh, just lay back and . . . don’t think of exploding hearts.”

Kenma’s lips quirk in a tiny smirk. “It’s not going to explode.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Kuroo feels better, though. If Kenma believes in him, then he must see something in Kuroo that he doesn’t see himself. It’s not a whole lot to go on, but it’ll have to be enough.

[shions-heart]

amuse me bokuken?

send me characters and a prompt!

Thanks! This one isn’t very funny either, but I hope you like it~

It’s one of those days.

One of those days where nothing seems to work getting Koutarou out of his low moods. Kuro tries talking to him, so has Keiji, but eventually they have to leave for work. Kenma doesn’t completely understand. He’s had anxiety and panic attacks before, some mild and some severe, but he’s never had what Koutarou has.

“Did he take his meds?” Kuro asks Keiji in a low voice, as they pull on their shoes.

Keiji purses his lips, as he shakes his head slightly.

Kuro sighs, turning to look at Kenma. “Sorry, but if you can, try to get him to take them?”

Kenma nods, not entirely sure how he’ll do that, but willing to help. Kuro kisses him briefly, as does Keiji, before the two of them leave the apartment. Kenma glances back toward the bedroom Koutarou and Keiji share, chewing on his lip.

Slipping on his shoes, he heads outside. There’s an ice cream shop not far from where they live, and he orders two milkshakes, before heading back to the apartment. He toes off his shoes and makes his way to the bedroom. He forgoes knocking, simply walks inside and takes a seat on the bed next to Koutarou. There’s a pill container on the bedside table, with little boxes for each day of the week. He opens the one for today, popping open the capsules and pouring their contents into the milkshake. He stirs it until everything is blended in, before nudging Koutarou’s leg.

“Here,” he says, holding out the milkshake.

Koutarou’s lower lip pokes out, as he turns his face into his pillow. “I don’t want it.”

“You’re not going to feel any better if you don’t take your meds.”

“I don’t want to take them.”

Kenma sighs. “So you like being a pathetic bed lump?” he asks with a frown.

Koutarou turns slightly to scowl up at him. “Your bedside manner is terrible.”

“Eat,” Kenma holds out the milkshake once more.

Koutarou sighs, moving to sit up, as he takes the milkshake. Kenma settles back with his own, sipping through the straw, as he watches Koutarou carefully. He takes his straw, moving the ice cream around and around until Kenma pinches his thigh through the covers.

“Ow! Okay, okay!” Koutarou shakes his head, bringing the straw to his lips to take a sip.

Kenma doesn’t say anything, simply enjoys his milkshake and watches Koutarou drink his. He knows he doesn’t have to ask. Eventually, Koutarou will start talking.

“I screwed up a serve yesterday,” he says, when his milkshake is nearly finished. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, which is down and drooping into his eyes. “It cost us the game. It was just a practice one, but . . . still.”

“So you decided to punish us by refusing to take your meds?”

Koutarou shakes his head. “I was punishing myself.”

“What do you think that does to us?”

Koutarou squints at him. “Huh?”

Kenma sighs, holding his milkshake in both hands, as he stares down at it. “When you make yourself feel worse . . . it doesn’t help anything. Kuro and Keiji just worry about you. And you mess up the day for all of us.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Koutarou says meekly.

Kenma huffs. “It’s not just about us, though. I mean, you gotta push through for yourself too. It’s not good for you to wallow. It just makes you hate yourself more, and that’s not good.” He shakes his head. “You’re stronger than that, anyway.”

Koutarou shakes his head, about to protest, but Kenma cuts him off before he can.

“Yes, you are. You pull yourself out of slumps all the time. The meds help with that, and you know it, so you should just . . . take your damn meds every day and work on making your day better for yourself.”

Koutarou smiles faintly. “You’re pretty good at that. Being all motivational.”

Kenma feels his cheeks warm, and he looks away. “Kuro rubbing off on me, I guess.”

“No, you’ve always been like that, I think,” Koutarou muses. He leans forward and kisses the tip of Kenma’s nose.

Kenma starts in surprise, his face growing hotter.

Koutarou’s smile shifts to a grin. “Thanks. And thanks for the milkshake. I feel a little better, now.”

Kenma nods. “Good,” he says, moving to stand. He holds out his hand. “Let’s play Mario Kart.”

Koutarou’s eyes widen. “Really?! But you never let me play with you! You say I get too loud!”

“You can be loud,” Kenma offers.

“Can I be Princess Peach, too?” Koutarou asks, taking Kenma’s hand and standing.

Kenma wrinkles his nose, and Koutarou widens his eyes further, poking his lower lip out in a pout that’s both annoying and adorable. Kenma sighs in defeat.

“Fine.”

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m going to kick your ass!”

He tugs Kenma into the living room, and Kenma allows it, glad that he’s at least not moping anymore. As they set up to play, Kenma can tell that there’s still some lingering darkness around him, but he knows that the fact he got out of bed at all is a step in the right direction.

They play Mario Kart, and Kenma lets Koutarou win almost every round, and as irritating as it is when he gloats and praises himself, Kenma knows it’s better than the alternative.

And besides, he likes seeing Koutarou happy.

[shions-heart]

"Quiet me" Kyouhaba?

oh wow I haven’t written Kyouhaba in forever! thanks! I hope you like it and don’t mind that it’s an AU~

The ground tremors beneath Yahaba's feet. He stumbles, even as he continues to rush forward. He pushes past the people running the other way, ignoring the screams and shouts for the police. He knew this might happen. If Kyoutani wasn't so stubborn . . .

No time to think about that now. The house up ahead is wobbling. Shards of glass litter the front yard, and the windows are empty. Inside he can hear yelling, the harsh voice of a man yelling for Kyoutani to stop.

Yahaba doesn't hesitate. He sprints up the steps of the porch and flings open the front door.

Kyoutani has his father by the biceps and is holding the man against one of the shaking walls. He's sporting a bruised eye and a cut lip, and he's snarling, his eyes full of hurt and fury. His father is shouting at him, gripping Kyoutani's arms.

"You're going to bring this whole house down on top of us!" he's yelling, panicked and angry. "Stop this, Kentarou! Are you trying to kill us?!"

"Kyoutani!" Yahaba shouts, hurrying forward.

Kyoutani's head whips around, and his eyes look wild, like that of an animal's. Yahaba doesn't slow, however. Instead, he grabs Kyoutani's shoulder and pulls as hard as he can. Kyoutani moves with him, dropping his father to the floor, as he faces Yahaba.

"You shouldn't be here," Kyoutani growls, his hands trembling at his sides. "I can't stop it."

"Yes, you can," Yahaba says, grabbing Kyoutani's head in both hands. "Look at me! You can stop it."

Kyoutani squeezes his eyes shut, his breathing short and quick. Yahaba curls his fingers into Kyoutani's hair, pressing against his scalp.

"The power doesn't control you. You control it. Now get a hold of yourself before you kill someone!"

Kyoutani growls under his breath, his eyes flashing, as he opens them. Yahaba stares back at him, resolute and unyielding.

"I'm not going anywhere," he tells him. "So you better figure something out, because if you kill me I'm going to haunt your ass forever."

Kyoutani huffs what might be a laugh, and some of the tension seeps from his body. His shoulders slump, his fists relaxing, and the shaking world around them begins to slow. Yahaba doesn't remove his gaze from Kyoutani's. He stares into those deep set eyes and tries to calm his racing heart. Kyoutani's maintains eye-contact as well, his brows furrowing but no longer in anger.

"Deep breaths," Yahaba instructs quietly, inhaling deeply to demonstrate.

Kyoutani follows his lead, and they breathe slowly together. The screams from outside have stopped, and eventually the ground stops trembling. Yahaba carefully removes his hands from Kyoutani's head, but before he can drop them entirely, Kyoutani grabs his wrists, holding them firmly in both hands. Yahaba freezes, his heart pounding in his throat.

"Why did you do that?" Kyoutani asks, his voice gruff, his gaze searching.

Yahaba laughs, high and nervous. "You really have to ask?"

Kyoutani tilts his head, his frown deepening. Yahaba glances over his shoulder, as a siren blares in the distance.

"We have to go."

He pulls away, and Kyoutani lets him this time. He crosses over to the window, checking for escape routes. He can already see the police cars turning up the street, and there are multiple people gathering outside, watching the house. He turns around, looking between Kyoutani, and the man panting on the floor.

"We need to go out the back." Yahaba strides forward, grabbing Kyoutani's hand and pulling him back into the kitchen.

"Wait!" Kyoutani's father calls after them. "Where are you taking him?"

Kyoutani hesitates, but Yahaba gives his hand a firm squeeze, looking from the blood on Kyoutani's mouth to the man still on the floor.

"Somewhere you can never touch him again."

Remorse flickers across the man's face, but Yahaba ignores it. He pulls Kyoutani forward, out the back door, and into the woods behind the house, never looking back.

[shions-heart]

amuse me for bokuto x kuroo :'D

send me characters and a prompt!

Thanks! Idk if it’s funny, but it involves cheering someone up so it still fits the prompt XD I hope you like it~

Kuroo’s following his team out of the gymnasium when he hears a loud clang from one of the locker rooms. He slows to a stop, leaning back to peer into the room. Bokuto’s standing at the lockers, his forehead pressed against the metal, hands curled into fists at his sides. Looking around, Kuroo doesn’t see any other members of Fukurodani. Did they just leave him there?

For a moment, Kuroo hesitates, glancing toward his team which have gotten ahead of him. Kenma stops near the back, lifting his gaze from his PSP and glancing over his shoulder. Kuroo gestures helplessly into the room beside him, mouthing “Bokuto.”

Kenma nods and keeps walking, as Kuroo inhales and steps into the locker room.

“Hey buddy,” he starts tentatively. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a failure to my team,” Bokuto responds morosely.

Kuroo grimaces, slipping his gym bag off his shoulder. He approaches Bokuto carefully, standing beside him and ducking his head slightly to try and catch his gaze. “You know that’s not true.”

“It is true!” Bokuto slams his fist into the lockers, making the entire thing shake. “I let my team down. I couldn’t get them the victory! They’re so disappointed. Akaashi was crying. He tried to hide it, but I saw it. I did that. I did that to him.”

“Okay, calm down,” Kuroo says, grabbing Bokuto’s shoulder. He tries to turn him around, but Bokuto resists him, pressing further against the lockers. “Bokuto, you’re not the only person on the team. Not everything rides on your shoulders. Yeah, you lost, and it sucks. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t play as hard as you could, the best that you could. You all did.”

“But we lost.”

Kuroo sighs. “Sometimes even when you try your best you still don’t make it. But that doesn’t mean you’re a failure. Dude, you’re one of the strongest high school players in Tokyo. I bet there were scouts out there that’ll eat you up as soon as you graduate.”

Bokuto sniffles, turning his head slightly to peek over at Kuroo, a hopeful light entering his watery golden eyes. “You think so?”

Kuroo gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Totally. So come on. Clean your face. You’re the captain, aren’t you? You gotta show your team that you still believe in them. You gotta show Akaashi you still believe in him. He still has another year to win Nationals. You think he can do it?”

Bokuto straightens. “Akaashi can do anything,” he says with conviction.

Kuroo grins. “Fuck yeah, he can. And you know why? Because you believe he can.” He presses his fist against Bokuto’s chest. “You’re his inspiration! He looks up to you.”

Bokuto’s face brightens. “He does?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t he? You’re incredible!”

Bokuto grins slowly. “I am, aren’t I?”

Kuroo taps his fist against Bokuto’s chest. “You totally are.”

Bokuto puffs out his chest, drawing himself up to his full height. “I am! I’m incredible!”

“Yeah! Now let’s hear that cheer!”

Bokuto lifts his fists in the air. “Hey, hey, hey!”

“You can do better than that!”

“HEY, HEY, HEY!”

“Yeah!”

When the rest of the Fukurodani team return to retrieve their captain, they find Bokuto and Kuroo shouting in each other’s face, laughing as they yell “HEY, HEY, HEY!” back and forth. They all stare, Komi snickering behind his hand, as Konoha nudges Washio and mutters something about apes in uniform.

Akaashi steps forward, looking between the two, and clears his throat. Bokuto turns toward the noise, eyes widening. He grabs Akaashi by the shoulders, shaking him gently.

“AGGAASHI! Listen! You’re gonna do great next year, okay?! You’re gonna win Nationals for us. You can do it! I believe in you!”

Akaashi blinks, and a light flush colors his tan cheeks. “Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he says.

Bokuto releases him, leaning back and scanning the group behind Akaashi. “Where’s Onaga-kun? I gotta tell him too!”

“He’s in the bus, making sure it doesn’t leave without you,” Konoha says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Bokuto grabs his gym bag and rushes out of the locker room shouting his kouhai’s name. Akaashi looks to Kuroo and inclines his head.

“Thank you,” he says softly, before turning to leave with the rest of his team.

“Yeah, no problem,” Kuroo replies, glad he was able to help.

[shions-heart]

(( @audioerf / @audreykare on Twitter has this awesome werecrow/werecat AU for Haikyuu!!, and some recent sketches she made feat. kuroken’s origin story sparked my inspiration, and I just had to write my interpretation of it XD I hope you enjoy it, Audrey!))

A deafening roar shakes the table in front of Kenma, causing his inkwell to tip over. He watches in dismay, as the ink spreads across his parchment. He frowns then, annoyance forming a headache that twitches above his eyebrow.

It took me two hours to draw that.

For the past three days, some creature in the woods beside his village has plagued them with growls and roars ranging from soft and pitiful to loud and threatening. Preliminary reports bring back a tale of a horrifying monster that appears to be stuck in some trees, and although everyone seems bothered by it, nobody has ventured to take care of it.

“It’ll probably eat us on sight!” one villager exclaims.

“Maybe if we send an army they’ll be able to defeat it!” another one suggests.

“Where are we going to get an army? Just let it be. It’ll starve itself eventually,” yet another says.

And on and on it goes. Kenma has grown tired of it. He hasn’t been able to sleep. His work continuously gets interrupted. Meditation is impossible.

Someone has to do something.

Gathering some meager supplies and picking up his wizard’s staff, Kenma sets for the woods the next morning. Those on the street call to him, warning him of the danger, telling him he’s a fool. Kenma ignores them all. If he dies, then maybe at least it’ll be quiet.

It doesn’t take him long to find the source of the noise, and he slows to a stop before it. Caught in the bramble and brush of the forest, sits a large beast. It’s easily three times larger than Kenma, towering above him. It has piercing golden eyes, a giant muzzle with rows of sharp, glistening teeth, and long thick fur covering its entire body. It resembles a giant wolf, or a lion . . . some massive animal-like creature.

Kenma stares, as it howls and roars and thrashes in the underbrush. Peering closer, Kenma can see why. It’s long fur has gotten tangled in the branches of three gnarled trees. Leaves surround the forest floor beneath the trees, the beast having shaken them off with its attempts to free itself.

As terrifying as the beast might’ve been under different circumstances, all Kenma feels in this moment is exasperation.

“You’re telling me all that noise was really just you throwing a temper tantrum?”

The beast stops abruptly, looking down at Kenma with a sharp gaze. Kenma suppresses a shiver at the power he feels emanating from the beast, but he can’t help but think that if this beast was all-powerful, it wouldn’t be stuck in a bunch of trees. It’s probably not as dangerous as it looks. So, squaring his shoulders, Kenma reaches into his knapsack and pulls out a large knife and sets to work.

At first, the beast wiggles around, attempting to free itself as Kenma hacks away at its fur.

“Stop that,” Kenma snaps. “You’re just going to make it worse.”

Surprisingly, the beast listens. It stops and simply watches, as Kenma carefully picks his way around the beast, finding the knots in the fur and sawing them away. He can hear the heavy breathing of the beast, feel its eyes on him, but he remains resolute in his mission. It hasn’t tried to attack him, so Kenma figures it’s safe enough, and he has his magic to defend against it if it decides to attack afterwards.

Finally, the last bit of tangled hair falls away. Kenma steps back slowly, as the beast moves to stand. Tucking the knife into his obi, Kenma grabs his staff, holding it in both hands in front of him. As the beast shakes itself free of the branches and takes a step forward, Kenma takes a step back, throwing up a ward between him and the creature.

The beast stops, tilting its head. It looks down at Kenma for a moment, before slowly lowering its head toward him. It opens its mouth, and Kenma doesn’t wait. He whacks the beast on the nose, grabs his knapsack, and sprints back toward the village.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest, as he reaches his home. He slams the door shut and locks it, not entirely sure why he’s shaking so badly. Nothing went wrong. In fact, everything went very smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly?

Not wanting to overthink it, Kenma draws himself a bath and gets ready for bed. In the blissful silence, he settles down for a long, well-earned nap.

**********

He awakes to the sound of a knock on his door. Frowning, he throws his blanket over his head, hoping whoever it is will go away. The knocking persists, though, and Kenma sits up with a sigh. Pushing his hair out of his face, he stalks over to the door and opens it with a faint scowl.

An unfamiliar man stands in front of him. He’s completely naked, with thick long hair falling wildly around his lean, muscular frame. It falls nearly to his waist, and tiny sticks and leaves are caught within the locks. Kenma stares, unblinking, as the man slowly grins, revealing sharp canines.

“Hi,” he says, his voice deep and rich.

Kenma slams the door shut.

“Hey, wait!” the man calls, his voice muffled behind the door. “It’s me! From the forest, remember? You saved my life!”

Kenma grimaces. He can’t have his neighbors hearing him and coming to investigate. Everyone knows everyone else in this village. This guy stands out and there will most certainly be questions and people gathering to look at the spectacle and bothering him and . . . ugh.

He opens the door again. The man looks back at him imploringly.

“I only wanted to thank you--”

Kenma reaches out to grab the man’s wrist, tugging him into the house. He shuts the door behind him, locking it and putting several wards on it, to keep anyone walking by from listening in. When he turns back around, the man has approached him, standing directly beside him. Kenma shrinks back against the door, wondering if he should’ve grabbed his staff.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man says. “I’m in your debt.” He drops to his knees in front of Kenma, bowing his unruly head of hair. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Kenma blinks, his cheeks warming. What is this? Some sort of weird dream?

“I just wanted some peace and quiet,” he mutters, looking away.

The man looks up. “No riches? No glory? No enhanced magic?” He appears perplexed.

Kenma narrows his eyes. What sort of creature is this? Able to grant these things? Able to shift its form? Should he even be trusting it?

“I’m good, thanks,” he says.

The man sits back on his heels, looking at a loss. He glances around the interior of Kenma’s home. It’s a modest house, with a single room. His bed sits against one wall, surrounded by spell books and story books. A fire pit is in the center of the room, with a low table and cushion beside it. On the table are a few parchments, his inkwell, and his brushes. His clothes are folded and kept in a crate beside the bed. Kenma wonders what the man is thinking.

Slowly, he inches away from the door, making his way toward the bed where he left his staff.

“So, um, you can go now,” he says pointedly. “I don’t need anything. I just wanted you to stop making so much noise.”

The man watches him, head tilted to the side. His golden eyes fixate on Kenma, and there’s an expression there that makes Kenma feel warm and uncomfortable at the same time. The man places a hand on his chest. “I’m Tetsurou,” he says.

“Okay.”

Tetsurou remains kneeling, waiting.

“I’m . . . Kenma,” Kenma offers after a moment.

Tetsurou grins. “Kenma . . . Kenma. Kenma,” he says slowly, as though tasting it.

Kenma’s face grows even hotter. “Stop that.”

Tetsurou moves forward, faster than Kenma can move away, and places himself directly in front of Kenma once more. He leans forward, apparently having no concept of personal space.

“I’m in your debt, Kenma,” he says, his eyes flickering over Kenma’s features. He grins again, a somewhat dopey grin that speaks of an affection that totally shouldn’t be there considering they’ve just met. “You saved my life.”

“I think you’re exaggerating,” Kenma says, his heart pounding faster despite himself.

Tetsurou picks up Kenma’s hand, pressing it against his chest. “What can I do for you? I have to pay you back for your kindness.”

“It wasn’t kindness. I told you, I just wanted you to shut up.”

Tetsurou laughs. “True enough, but I still owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” Kenma says, pulling his hand away.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

Tetsurou tilts his head again. He looks around the room. “You live alone.”

Kenma crosses his arms over his chest. “So?”

Tetsurou looks back at him. “I can assist you, here. I can clean for you. Run errands for you. Keep you company. Warm you during the cold nights of winter.” He says this last one with a suggestive smirk.

Indignant, Kenma flicks his nose. “No, you won’t,” he says.

Tetsurou rubs his nose. “Well, I can help you with the other stuff anyway.”

Kenma sighs, looking away. He’s getting the feeling that no matter what he does, Tetsurou isn’t going to leave him alone until he pays off whatever debt he thinks he owes to Kenma. It’ll probably be easier and less of a hassle to just give him what he wants.

“Fine,” he says, after a moment. He looks back at Tetsurou with a frown. “But you’re not staying here looking like that. You’re a mess, and you’ll probably shed everywhere.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widen. “But I can stay?” he asks hopefully.

Kenma wonders why he looks so happy. “I guess.”

Tetsurou grins. “You won’t regret this.”

I regret it already.

That’s not strictly true, however. Kenma has to admit to himself that living alone, while it does have its perks, can be rather lonely, as well. He’s never had an interest in forming close connections to the others in the village, because, frankly, he’s bad at talking to people and making friends. There are plenty that he likes, but not many that he would consider bringing into his home.

But as Tetsurou sits in the bathtub, and Kenma sits behind him to help him work out the many tangles in his hair, he has to admit that it feels kind of nice. Tetsurou chatters on about his life in the woods and how he came to be stuck in the bushes, and it’s an amusing story. Kenma listens, fighting a smile, as he combs through the knots and burrs. It’s almost soothing, in a way. The repetitive motion, the low cadence of Tetsurou’s voice, the occasional splash of water as he cleans himself, it’s nice.

Don’t get used to it, Kenma tells himself. As soon as he’s satisfied, he’ll leave.

It takes them two and a half hours to finish cleaning and detangling Tetsurou’s hair. The sun has started to set, as Kenma helps pull the hair back from Tetsurou’s face into a large bun held together by a couple smooth sticks. There are some strands in the front, though, that are too short to pull back, and they hang in front of one of his eyes. The other looks back at Kenma, as he finally steps back, satisfied with his work.

Tetsurou’s wearing one of Kenma’s yukata, which is too short but fits well enough, and he actually looks human. He smiles, and Kenma suddenly realizes that he’s rather attractive. His heart flutters, much to his annoyance.

“Thank you,” Tetsurou says, bowing deeply. “Again.”

Kenma looks away, willing his cheeks to cool. “It was nothing.”

His stomach growls, and Tetsurou straightens. “You’re hungry,” he says.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll return shortly!”

In an instant, he’s transformed into a massive cat with shaggy black fur. He slips out of the yukata and bounds toward the door. He bats at the lock and opens it, disappearing into the growing night. Kenma stares after him, somewhat doubting that he’ll really return.

He looks around at the mess they made, the long strands of hair on the floor, the dirty water in the tub, and sighs. Slowly, he starts cleaning, knowing he’s going to want to do it even less if he lies down now.

Not a half-hour later, however, the door bursts open and Tetsurou trots in triumphantly, soaking wet, and holding a large fish in his jaws. Kenma stares, as he places the fish at his feet, and shakes himself, the cat transforming into Tetsurou kneeling on the floor in front of him, naked once more.

He looks up at Kenma expectantly, proudly, and Kenma’s unsure of what he wants him to do. Slowly, he reaches out and pets the top of Tetsurou’s head.

“. . . Good boy.”

Tetsurou laughs. He grabs the yukata he left on the floor and pulls it on, as he stands. “You’ve done a lot, today. Rest. I’ll finish cleaning and prepare the meal.”

Kenma blinks, realizing that having company might not be the only perk to this arrangement. He steps over to the table, lowering himself on the cushion and turning to the parchment in front of him. Tetsurou whistles softly as he works, and Kenma finds it hard to concentrate.

He seems happy. Like he truly wants to stay here . . . with me.

Kenma peeks at Tetsurou from behind his hair, wondering what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

Whatever it is, however, he’s looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

[shions-heart]

((happy belated birthday to the wonderful and talented @ichigomaniac !!! I’m glad you had such a great day. XD This little fic isn’t much, but I hope you like it. /)u(\ <333))

this takes place in my Being Human AU, set after The Awakening

(semishira, rated T for violence and mild suggestiveness at the end)

The roars of the hell beasts shake the buildings surrounding Semi Eita, as he struggles to maintain his balance. Gritting his teeth, he wipes sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist, the magic spear in his hand thrumming with energy. The hell beasts in front of him shuffle around in the tight space of the alley, lifting their long snouts to sniff the air. Their eyesight is better at night, so Semi’s grateful for the light of day. But daylight doesn’t negate their sense of smell, and he knows that before long they’ll find him. He has to strike before that happens.

Twirling his spear slowly, he calculates the distance between them. There are at least four of them, the others scattered about the city. Semi’s team had to split up in order to chase them all down. Semi paired up with Shirabu, as they are wont to do, but in the chaos they lost track of each other. Semi can sense him, though, through their bond. He’s frustrated but unhurt. He doesn’t need Semi’s help.

Semi tells himself he doesn’t need help, either.

With another roar the first hell beast charges, claws digging into the pavement and leaving dark grooves in their wake. Semi calls upon his magic and leaps straight into the air, flipping over the hell beast’s head; he lands on its back and drives the tip of his spear directly into the back of its skull. With a scream, it dissipates into black smoke, causing Semi to fall through onto the ground. He coughs, waving his hand in front of his face to dispel the smoke.

When he looks up, the three other hell beasts are almost on top of him.

“Shit,” he mutters, quickly rolling out of the way of a massive foot.

“Pitiful little human,” a voice from above cackles. “Did you honestly think you could take on four of my pets all by yourself?”

Semi glances up with a frown. Leaning against a balcony railing three floors up is a demon. It leers down at him with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Its tail flicks back and forth, as its wings rustle slightly in the wind. It whistles, and Semi doesn’t have a chance to throw his spear, before he’s knocked back onto the ground, a large claw on his chest. The weight presses into him, crushing his ribs, but he manages to stab the claw with his spear. The hell beast yelps, moving off him, and Semi jumps to his feet.

“If you’re controlling these creatures, that means all I have to do is banish you, and they’ll disappear,” he shouts, grinning slowly.

“You’re welcome to try,” the demon says with a smirk, before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

Semi can feel the dark energy in the air shift, and he turns around just in time for the demon to appear, claws outstretched. Semi bats them away with his spear, backing up, but now he’s surrounded. Calling upon his magic, he forms a sword in his other hand, slicing down at the tail that snaps at him. The demon shifts it away just in time and whistles.

Semi spins away, as the hell beast behind him nearly crushes him to the ground once more. His back hits the wall of the alley, and a moment later he cries out in pain, as the demon’s tail pierces his side, pinning him back against the wall. He brings his sword up, but the demon grabs his wrist, forcing him to release the sword, as its claws dig into his skin. Semi releases the spear, reshaping it, but before he can utter the spell, the demon’s other hand covers his mouth.

It leans in close, licking its lips slowly with a glistening black tongue.

“You’re mine, witch,” it whispers.

Semi glares back at it, trying to think of what he can do. The pain in his side feels like fire burning him from the inside out. He’s sweating, dizzy; his wrist is bleeding, and the stench of the demon’s skin makes his eyes water.

But he’s not going to give up.

As the demon leans forward, mouth opening wide, he jabs his knee upward into its stomach. It hisses and withdraws, just enough for Semi to grab its tail and yank it out of his side. He covers the wound with his hand, twisting away from the demon’s grasp to stumble toward the alley’s entrance.

It’s then that he feels it, through the haze of pain, the anger building, sharp and hot. He can’t help but smirk, as the demon reorients itself and turns back toward him.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Semi says, as he feels the weight of dark energy grow stronger. This time, however, it’s not coming from the demon.

Shirabu leaps over Semi’s head, golden magic crackling around him. The demon doesn’t have time to react, before Shirabu’s on top of it. From his hand grows a dagger, bright and sharp, and he stabs downward, toward the demon’s chest. But the demon disappears from underneath him, knocking him off balance.

“Shirabu, the tail!” Semi calls, as the demon reappears, its tail flying toward Shirabu’s unprotected back.

Shirabu spins around, the dagger slicing straight through the tail. The demon howls, charging forward with its horns lowered. The hell beasts also charge. Semi’s eyes widen, as his breath catches in his throat. He stumbles forward, wanting to help, despite the way his side screams at him to stay still.

He needn’t have worried, though. Calmly, Shirabu stands and flings his arms out to the side. He utters no spell, but the hell beasts and demon freeze in place, halted by Shirabu’s magic. Semi can feel his energy rolling off him in strong, powerful waves. He senses anger, fear, hatred.

“I could tear you all apart, piece by piece,” Shirabu mutters, eyes glinting red.

Semi steps closer, placing his free hand on Shirabu’s shoulder. “Just banish them. They’re not worth the energy.”

Shirabu shoots him a glare. “It hurt you. It deserves it.” 

Semi shrugs. “Maybe. But you already took its tail. That’s going to take a while to grow back.”

Shirabu narrows his eyes, but after a moment he flicks his wrists, and the demon and beasts explode into black smoke. Relief causes Semi’s limbs to tremble, and he nearly falls, as the adrenaline rush fades, and his body registers just how fatigued he is. Shirabu catches him before he can, however, and lowers him carefully to the ground, as he kneels.

“I’m fine,” Semi says dismissively, still sensing the fear and anger swirling inside Shirabu.

“You should’ve called for me,” Shirabu says. “I could’ve taken care of that thing before this happened.”

Semi wrinkles his nose. “You’re extremely powerful, Kenjirou. Sometimes I want a piece of the action, too.”

Shirabu huffs. “Your pride thing is stupid.”

“Like you don’t make stupid choices ‘cause of pride.”

“Not this stupid!”

Semi laughs, which turns into a grimace, as the pain flares. Shirabu’s brow furrows, and he moves to carefully lift Semi’s shirt. He inhales sharply, as he finds the wound. Semi’s too afraid to look.

“I don’t think it hit anything important,” Semi wheezes, shaking his head.

His skin quivers, as Shirabu lightly places his hand over the wound. His gaze focuses, lips pursed in concentration, and Semi feels his magic seep into his skin, warm and gentle. He closes his eyes, as his body knits itself back together, guided by Shirabu’s magic. He could have done this himself, but he’s grateful for the assistance, for Shirabu’s presence.

“Hey,” he says quietly, reaching up to thread his fingers through Shirabu’s hair.

Shirabu glances sidelong at him, tension still lining his features. “What?”

“Thank you.”

Shirabu’s face turns red. “Whatever,” he mutters, turning his face away.

But Semi tangles his fingers in Shirabu’s hair, tugging him closer. “Kenjirou,” he murmurs.

Shirabu looks back at him, frowning. “You’re being weird, again,” he complains.

“You like it when I’m weird like this,” Semi counters, before pressing a soft kiss against Shirabu’s lips.

He doesn’t resist; Semi knew he wouldn’t. His fingers spread against Semi’s side, holding the newly healed skin in a firm grasp, as he leans into the kiss. His lips are dry and chapped, but Semi’s aren’t much better. He loosens his grip on Shirabu’s hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His heart hasn’t slowed it’s quickened pace since the fight, and now it beats even faster, threatening to burst.

He pulls Shirabu closer, still feeling the magical energy vibrating through him, through them both. He parts his lips, slipping them between Shirabu’s, and Shirabu responds by pushing his tongue through the gap, licking into his mouth with a soft moan.

“Oi! Lovebirds! Can’t you make out somewhere cleaner? You haven’t even showered yet!”

Semi’s tempted to ignore Yamagata’s interruption, but then he hears the shutter sound of a phone’s camera, and he turns his head to frown at his teammate. His face instantly warms, however, when he notices the entire team is there, watching with varying levels of amusement.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asks, scrambling to his feet. Shirabu stands as well, looking more smug than embarrassed. Semi gives his arm a shove. “Stop with that face.”

“The hell beasts disappeared, so we figured someone must have taken out their master,” Reon states, still smiling. “We followed the energy signature here.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pooped!” Tendou exclaims, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s go home and veg out in front of the TV.”

“You barely did anything,” Kawanishi says. “Ushijima blasted through your beasts in seconds. Look, he’s not even tired.”

Ushijima blinks at them all. “I thought about going for a run,” he admits. “You’re all welcome to join me.”

“I’ll join!” Goshiki cries, because of course he’d be up to it.

“Ah, what the hell, I could use some more exercise,” Yamagata says.

“Semi-san was injured. I think he needs to lie down for a while,” Shirabu says, eyes straight ahead.

Semi’s about to protest, reprimand Shirabu for being cheeky and insist he’s fine, but then he notices the red tips of his ears, and he suddenly understands.

“Ah, yeah, some rest would probably be good,” he says, laying his hand over his side. “You all go on without me.”

“I’ll make sure he gets home okay,” Shirabu says, taking Semi’s arm to help him walk past the others. Semi ignores Tendou’s knowing smirk, as they pass.

“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” Semi mutters under his breath.

“You want the house to ourselves or not?” Shirabu hisses back.

Semi’s body grows warm. “Fine. But I’m topping this time,” he says.

Shirabu turns to look at him with wide eyes. “You shouldn’t exert yourself too much, Semi-san. We wouldn’t want you to re-injure yourself.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Semi growls, grabbing Shirabu around the neck and ruffling his hair.

Shirabu laughs, a free, lighthearted sound that comes so rarely, that Semi can’t help but grin in response.