I'm alive!!! Uni really kicked my ass this year though, so it was an unexpected and extended break from writing but I would like to get back into the thick of it!
Hopefully I havent lost my touch after so many months of dry academia reports ahaha but I may drop something before christmas rolls around! 💕
Not going to lie, my favourite physical trait of his is his bizarre slanted fringe situation- that was actually what drew me to him in the first place funnily enough!
But my favourite personality trait of his is probably his intensity? That kinda ties into his passion, I like the way that he loves and devotes himself to volleyball and his teammates just as much as Tendou (and dare I even compare him to Hinata), although it's just a bit more... subtle or more like on a constant simmer? Plus his deadpan humour absolutely kills me and haikyuu-bu really highlights that!
Thank you for the lovely ask, it really got me thinking!! 💕
Rare is the day that Shirabu’s schedule is cleared and even more rarely does Shirabu indulge himself and permit that day to be spent loafing about instead of working on something else that demanded his attention. Usually you’d be all for it, but this one time it isn’t working in your favour.
“Babe, c’mon you need to get up and get dressed.” You had briefly tossed up if it’d be worth the griping you’d be subjected to if you just dragged him from the blankets, before deciding against it.
Shirabu spares a glance down at his sweats and battered jersey top that’s seen much better days and arches a brow at you. “I’m already dressed. If I put more on, you wouldn’t be able to see me.”
Rolling your eyes at his snark, you tug at his hand, resorting to pleading.
“Please get dressed in proper clothes.”
Shirabu doesn’t budge from his splayed out position on the bed, where he’s happily spent all afternoon. You eye the bed longingly. It took you forever to extricate yourself from him this morning, after he convinced you spend an extra hour cuddling before being forced out by responsibilities that you couldn’t shirk like Shirabu had.
“Why? It’s not like we have to go anywhere.” Kenjirou rebukes. It’s the first birthday since his eighteenth that he’s had the day off and by god is he going to make the most of it by doing absolutely nothing at all.
By sheer determination, you will your face to remain blank and your muscles to not lock up.
“Still, we might get unexpected company. You know what your family is like,” you reason, giving up on persuading him out of bed and try a new tactic. Perched on the edge of the mattress, you run a hand through tousled burnished gold locks and watch as he relaxes into your touch with a quiet sigh.
Got’cha, you cheer inwardly.
“They’ve seen me in worst.” Shirabu mumbles, not giving you a single inch to work with. Your shoulders drop with an exasperated groan.
“Shirabu Kenjirou,” you admonish, putting on your best no-nonsense voice. Immediately Shirabu tenses right back up and cracks open his eye to gauge how much shit he’s in. The way he sits up, folding his legs up tells you that your aggravation is apparent.
“I hate it when you say my name like that,” he quietly admits, gaze dropping to stare at the mattress and your heart follows it.
Wrapping his calloused hands in yours and raising them to your mouth, you deliver a kiss to each knuckle, an apology that causes the characteristically stoic man’s cheeks to flare a rosy pink.
“I’m sorry.” The apology comes out mumbled against his skin, but it soothed that residual anxiety Shirabu harboured, nonetheless. “I really – and I mean really – need you to get dressed in something nice. Smart casual would be preferable.”
“I thought we agreed to no fancy dinners.” He accuses, brows furrowing. He disliked the idea that on top of your already busy schedule that you arranged something like that just for him. It took a lot of convincing on his end to get you to agree to an easy day with no big celebrations.
“It’s not a fancy dinner.” You automatically shoot it down and Shirabu’s shoulders sag with untold relief.
“Good,” he leans forward and presses a loud kiss into your lips, making it impossible not to laugh as he pulls you into his lap. “Because I have plans for you tonight.”
“Is that so?” You tease, running your lips across his jaw, eliciting a delicious shiver from him. “Because I do too.”
“Oh?”
You hum agreeingly into his ear, tangling your fingers into his hair and gently tug his head backwards to place a kiss directly on top of his Adam’s apple. You watch with blatant pleasure as it dips downwards at your touch and a shaky sigh leaves his mouth.
The slowly simmering atmosphere is immediately shattered, pulling Kenjirou back into the cruel hands of gravity, as you let the festering secret slip out.
“Yup, Taichi and your mum planned something for you at your mum’s place.”
“What the fuck.” Came the unsurprising response.
You reluctantly let him remove your hands from his hair and pull away to meet his less than impressed expression. You offer a skewed smile and an apologetic shrug.
“I tried to convince them, but they wouldn’t listen.” You explain, frowning to yourself. “You would not believe how hard it was to keep the guest list under fifty. Your mum wanted to invite all your work associates and even had me look up their contact details online.” You add.
Kenjirou cringed at the thought. There was no way in hell he could enjoy the night if his colleagues were present. Kenjirou didn’t care what anyone said, a hospital was not immune from the clique-like mentality of most commercial industries – hell, he’d even argue that it was worse.
“Well that’s good to know. Thanks for the head’s up.” He says sarcastically and you playfully bat his shoulder.
“Hey! Your brothers had me under solemn oath to not tell you, so please act surprised otherwise I owe them two thousand yen.”
“Why would you do that? Just tell them to leave you alone.” He flops back against the bed and stares up at the ceiling, evaluating how much social energy he had to spare and calculating how long is socially acceptable to stay at his own party before ditching it for his own plans.
You could practically see the gears churning away in his head, so you toss away the argument that his little brothers are just as tenacious, if not more so, as their eldest brother that they secretly idolised.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, hating the tension flooding back into his form, replacing the fluid lax that he rarely possesses. Pressing a hand against his chest and using it as leverage, you kiss him on the lips, sealing your regret into his skin.
Cupping your face, he prevents you from moving back. The corners of his mouth tick up at the imploring look you give him.
“What time do we need to leave?”
“Um,” that wasn’t what you were expecting but it was better than the dreadful cold shoulder. “Five o’clock if we want to not break any laws getting to your parent’s place in time.”
Kenjirou glances at his alarm and finds that it’s barely past four.
“Plenty of time then.” He says, wrapping his arm tighter around you and forcing you to meet the growing smirk spelling out disaster for the hairstyle you had painstakingly pinned up.
Oh well, you’re sure the party won’t mind if the guest of honour is a handful of minutes late.
By all means, you should not have ever met Semi Eita without outside interference. Where he was sleek lines, stern eyes, and the lingering taste of cigarettes; you were pliable curves, soft mouth, and a claimed “breath of fresh air”. Polar opposites, a walking juxtaposition as you two continued to cross paths during parties of a mutual friend of a mutual friend.
Months were spent successfully dancing around each other, skillfully dodging his lingering gaze and charming grin every time he caught you staring. Time was running short on how long you could evade him without just outright walking out upon seeing him usually posted out in the smoker’s circle.
After a while, you had conceded that Semi is exactly - if not worse - than the murmured warning your friends gave. The tell-tale graze of his hand as he brushes by, the way his gaze clings to you like your ex’s cheap cologne as you drink. All of those tiny, downright minute details had your fascination solely tuned into leather jackets and dip-dyed ash blonde hair that wasn’t nearly as stylish as he thought it was.
The dance reaches its peak sooner than you’d anticipated, as he finally catches you alone and ripe for the winner’s picking.
“Friends ditch you?” A familiar deep croon sounds besides you.
You flick your gaze to him before turning back to weaving between people drunkenly stumble to the music blaring on your way to the kitchen. The empty cup in your hand was a sign that you were way to sober for this.
“They’re grabbing food and I wasn’t interested.” You answer when you notice him trailing behind you like a wraith.
Semi gives a disbelieving hum and you rolled your eyes, returning to dipping the hellish concoction in your cup, the bastard child of cheap vodka and too many energy drinks.
Uncaring of the host’s warnings, Semi starts smoking within the kitchen that some poor dude’s mother cooked in. From the corner of your eye, you watch dark pink lips wrap around a cigarette and take a pull. Semi caught on to your staring and met it with a taunt.
“Does the resident good girl want to take a drag? Colour me surprised.”
“I don’t smoke that shit. Quicker to just drink the rat poison.” You scoff, eyes drifting back down to the wisps curling from the corners of his upturned mouth. It irked you like nothing else to be called a ‘good girl’ all because you actively avoided making life-destroying choices that Semi and his ilk ran into head-first.
“And yet, you’re staring holes through me, princess.” He holds it out to you in offering, a smouldering olive branch. The bridge of your nose crinkled in distaste. He laughs.
“No thanks,” You politely decline. “Who knows where that mouth of yours has been.” You spitefully tack on, taking care to not colour your voice with green envy.
Semi saw it though, expression turning predatory. You can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe you should have listened to your friend’s slurred warnings before they wondered off.
“Well, let me show you a way to enjoy them.”
Trapped under his gaze, you don’t move, talk, hardly breath as he closes in on you, too lost in your own roaring thoughts.
Clasping your chin, he orders, “Open your mouth and breath in when I open mine.”
Your heartbeat goes staccato as he raises the lit stick to his smirking mouth and deeply inhales, not once breaking eye contact. It was a challenge, blatant and near vulgar. Ducking forward, closing those precious centimetres between, chapped lips brush against yours as he exhaled the smoke.
Your body moves without thinking, breathing in the dry, gritty air and choke on it, lungs constricting painfully to cough it out. Tears dot your eyes as he pats your back mockingly while he laughs down at you.
“Is it too much for you, princess?” A condescending croon that makes you want to ram your knee between his legs. “A few more tries, and you’ll be able to take it like a champ.”
Another challenge, a throw of the gauntlet, and you blame the single cup of alcohol when you meet his stare, unyielding.
“Oh really?”
With a low hum in affirmation, he shifts forward, dipping his head down to speak directly into your ear, “Come sit with me and find out.”
By all means, you should not have ever met Semi Eita without outside interference. Where he was sleek lines, stern eyes, and the lingering taste of cigarettes; you were pliable curves, soft mouth, and a claimed “breath of fresh air”. Polar opposites, a walking juxtaposition as you two continued to cross paths during parties of a mutual friend of a mutual friend.
Months were spent successfully dancing around each other, skillfully dodging his lingering gaze and charming grin every time he caught you staring. Time was running short on how long you could evade him without just outright walking out upon seeing him usually posted out in the smoker’s circle.
After a while, you had conceded that Semi is exactly - if not worse - than the murmured warning your friends gave. The tell-tale graze of his hand as he brushes by, the way his gaze clings to you like your ex’s cheap cologne as you drink. All of those tiny, downright minute details had your fascination solely tuned into leather jackets and dip-dyed ash blonde hair that wasn’t nearly as stylish as he thought it was.
The dance reaches its peak sooner than you’d anticipated, as he finally catches you alone and ripe for the winner’s picking.
"Friends ditch you?" A familiar deep croon sounds besides you.
You flick your gaze to him before turning back to weaving between people drunkenly stumble to the music blaring on your way to the kitchen. The empty cup in your hand was a sign that you were way to sober for this.
"They're grabbing food and I wasn’t interested." You answer when you notice him trailing behind you like a wraith.
Semi gives a disbelieving hum and you rolled your eyes, returning to dipping the hellish concoction in your cup, the bastard child of cheap vodka and too many energy drinks.
Uncaring of the host’s warnings, Semi starts smoking within the kitchen that some poor dude’s mother cooked in. From the corner of your eye, you watch dark pink lips wrap around a cigarette and take a pull. Semi caught on to your staring and met it with a taunt.
"Does the resident good girl want to take a drag? Colour me surprised."
"I don’t smoke that shit. Quicker to just drink the rat poison." You scoff, eyes drifting back down to the wisps curling from the corners of his upturned mouth. It irked you like nothing else to be called a ‘good girl’ all because you actively avoided making life-destroying choices that Semi and his ilk ran into head-first.
"And yet, you're staring holes through me, princess." He holds it out to you in offering, a smouldering olive branch. The bridge of your nose crinkled in distaste. He laughs.
"No thanks," You politely decline. "Who knows where that mouth of yours has been." You spitefully tack on, taking care to not colour your voice with green envy.
Semi saw it though, expression turning predatory. You can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe you should have listened to your friend’s slurred warnings before they wondered off.
"Well, let me show you a way to enjoy them."
Trapped under his gaze, you don’t move, talk, hardly breath as he closes in on you, too lost in your own roaring thoughts.
Clasping your chin, he orders, "Open your mouth and breath in when I open mine."
Your heartbeat goes staccato as he raises the lit stick to his smirking mouth and deeply inhales, not once breaking eye contact. It was a challenge, blatant and near vulgar. Ducking forward, closing those precious centimetres between, chapped lips brush against yours as he exhaled the smoke.
Your body moves without thinking, breathing in the dry, gritty air and choke on it, lungs constricting painfully to cough it out. Tears dot your eyes as he pats your back mockingly while he laughs down at you.
"Is it too much for you, princess?" A condescending croon that makes you want to ram your knee between his legs. "A few more tries, and you'll be able to take it like a champ."
Another challenge, a throw of the gauntlet, and you blame the single cup of alcohol when you meet his stare, unyielding.
"Oh really?”
With a low hum in affirmation, he shifts forward, dipping his head down to speak directly into your ear, “Come sit with me and find out.”
It should’ve taken more convincing to lure you out to the back room to sit on some musty old lounge with the blonde alone, but it turns out that your iron will turns to mush for a crooked smile and close proximity.
“Y’know there’s an easier way to not waste my cigarette’s right?” Semi finally says after eyeing you dryly cough up a lung after attempting to smoke it the traditional way. “They’re too fucking expensive for you to cough it up.”
“Then show me.” You rasp out, happy to hand the offending thing off to its just as questionable owner. A part of you knew what was coming next, history repeating yourself over the same mistakes made.
As if to rub it in your face, Semi takes a long drag smoothly, almost bored-looking. With bated breath, you wait for him to blow it in your face in lieu of a middle finger for your earlier rude attitude. Instead, he grabs your chin and slots your mouths together. The taste of the bitter liquor on his tongue is overshadowed by the cloying smoke he forces it down your throat.
The hand gripping your chin doesn’t allow you to jerk back, much to your muffled protest. Your lungs make an aborted attempt to expel what little air you had before drawing in the breath Semi had so kindly offered.
It’s only then that Semi releases your face, though staying close enough for you to smell the rich cologne perfuming to his clothes even under the thick scent of menthol-laced smoke.
A cloud of white leaves your lips, this time unaccompanied by a dry, burning sensation licking up your throat. You shoot Semi an incredulous look, hand flying up to your mouth, stunned.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Semi laughs, drink dangerously close to tipping when he knocks his elbow against the arm of the lounge you two were relaxing into. “That’s just the start, I can show you so much more.”
You swallow and cringe at how dry it felt. Semi notices this and gestures to his drink.
“It’s yours, but you might want to take it slow. It’s strong.”
It’s a warning, and much like the rest of the warnings you got tonight, you ignored it and knocked it back before you could think how fucking stupid it was to do that. As you pull a face, Semi wipes the drop that trails down your chin with a slight grin.
“That’s a good girl.” He praises, placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close into his side. You ignore the warm prickling of your skin where it meets his and raise a brow at him.
“Know any tricks?”
Those three words served as the final three nails in your coffin. The rest of that night, you did not know peace. For the rest of that damned party, Semi ensures that your hand doesn’t stay idle for long. Whether it was holding a drink or bringing a cigarette to your mouth, Semi buildings your tolerance until you stop spluttering.
After inhaling the last few drags of the fifth one tonight, Semi gives you a lidded half smile as he wastes no time in placing a fresh one between your open lips and tugs you onto his lap. You raise your eyebrows at him, unimpressed.
“What?” He shrugs with one shoulder, shit-eating grin back in place. “This makes it easier to light it up.”
There’s no point in calling him out on his bullshit, the body heat he exuded all too enticing against the frigid night air paired with your outfit that’s more fit for the warmer months. If you happen to huddle closer to leach his natural heat, neither of you acknowledge it.
Under you Semi shuffles and you watch him like a hawk as he summons a lighter out of nowhere, motioning for you to lean closer than really needed. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you allow a tattooed hand to settle on your waist as the flame flickers to life and lights the smoke dangling from you lips. You take a short inhale before tilting in closer, faces barely an inch apart before blowing the smoke in his face.
The caramel in his eyes glittered like the sparks from the lighter he quickly pocketed before someone asked to “borrow” it. The rich brown turning molten and roiling as he settles his newly-freed hand high on your upper thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze, a touch inappropriate had there been any polite company in attendance.
The large hand on your waist twists at you until you now completely straddled his lap. This earns a few wolf-whistles, most likely from his friends, of which none were surprised to see you wrapped up in a compromising position with Semi. Eita has had his eye on you and tonight just so happened to be the night to reap his reward of refraining from stealing you away sooner.
By whatever higher power you were going to make tonight worth the regret you'll suffer tomorrow when the sunlight illuminates the dirty reminders of your deeds.
It doesn’t stop there. The touches and that breathless feeling you hope is because of the smoking only compound onto one another. After a while, you become relaxed against his chest and uncaring of the leers of his friends that you know purely by appearance. Semi doesn’t give a single fuck either, happily abandoning the pretence of shotgunning in favour for straight up making out.
The background noise of the party, the sound of glass breaking and the cheers and whoops that rose up afterwards, all faded into a high-pitched ring. All other senses dulled as the only one that mattered became heightened. The touch of him, hands that felt near burning against your cool skin.
Much like his presence, his touch was electrifying, raising goosebumps wherever they drifted. You didn’t dare bat them away as their wondering slips up your shirt. Calloused fingers join in eliciting soft noises from you by grazing high on your inner thigh, close enough for you to clench them together.
The resistance doesn’t deter Semi in the slightest, feeling him smirk against your lips as his tongue sweeps in and claims your mouth again in a biting kiss. He tries again and coaxes your thighs apart by using his other hand to press you down, forcing your legs apart by the sheer width of his body.
You failed to catch the embarrassed whine at the prospect of him finding out how turned on you are from simply making out as his digits trail further north. Semi chuckles, the vibrations causing you moan in return, it definitely wasn’t because of his fingers scraping against and dipping under the seam of your panties.
Breaking away, he chuckles lowly. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess, making such cute sounds."
You hated the nickname, truly and viciously. Though you couldn't deny the way it sends heat pooling southwards. Not answering him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into another open-mouthed kiss that has you questioning your sanity as he grinds up against you.
From there, time blended and escaped from you on that beat-up and mysteriously stained lounge. The next thing you knew, you were being laid out on another lounge. The only way you could tell was the distinguishing features that the cushions were more intact and smelt more like Semi’s menthol smokes and the lack of breeze licking at your heated skin. Now listening for it, the ringing noise of the surrounding crowd had faded away completely.
The noise of a belt sliding highlights this and breaks you from your stupor.
“What?” You ask dazedly, grasping at straws to remember leaving the party beyond stumbling off of the couch and being pressed up a wall.
Semi doesn’t meet your questioning gaze as he gathers your hands above your head and secures them with his black leather belt, thankfully free of any studs.
“Unless you like an audience, I thought you might appreciate coming to my place.”
Semi doesn’t even bother to strip, choosing to keep on the plain black tee straining across his biceps. You don’t know if you were resentful of the shirt or grateful for it concealing what was surely defined musculature that would further fog your thoughts over.
Running your tongue across your teeth, you begin unbuttoning your bottoms as best you could with your hands tied together, wanting skip over this part completely. Semi couldn’t wait a whole damn minute before binding them, apparently.
“The lounge?” You clip out, voice terse enough to make him glance up from the packet of lube he was fishing from his wallet.
“Oh, so you do have some bite, princess.” You half-heartedly scowl up at him for that. He continues, “What, you thought that I’d bring you into my bed? You gotta earn that privilege.”
This entire time you’ve been avoiding him to not become another notch on his bedpost and the fucker doesn’t even have the basic decency to fuck you on a bed. Sucking at your teeth, your mind whirls away with all the insults you could get away with, but the flurry dies down as he levels you with a heavy stare.
“Let’s see how well you can take me.”
A shiver makes it way down the length of your body, but you recover with a weak snarky retort to hide the momentary lapse in weakness. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
A cocky laugh, an insult, anything other than the sharp smile Semi cuts you with, would have been better. Now a thread of concern laced the lust that infected your common sense.
Just what exactly did you get into?
Thankfully, he doesn’t mock you for your half-hearted attempt to strip your clothes off, Semi uses his clean hand to rip them down along with your soaked panties and tosses them without care over his shoulder. Chastising is lost on you when he blows a puff of air on your exposed hole.
Relishing in your sudden demure hush, Semi reaches down with his lubed up fingers and impatiently inserts two without any warning. Your back arches, nails digging into the flesh of his clothed shoulders as you hiss at the sting.
“Motherfucker!” You curse, nails clawing into the soft cotton fabric. The sting of the stretch slices through the haze you so blissfully lost yourself in earlier.
The corner of Semi’s mouth tugs upwards as he throws your leg over his shoulder, exposing the lewd sight of how greedily you sucked in his fingers. His eyes don’t leave the sight, committing the wet squelching noises as he pumps them in and out of your tight cunt to memory.
“I barely have to prep you,” he breathes, part amused, part hungry, “You’re already so fucking wet.”
Those thick digits twist back in, hooking them to scrape against the soft tissue. You give a low whine as he crooks them against the front of your walls, pressing in just the right spot. Semi takes that for an answer.
“I wonder what other noises you’ll make for me.” He muses as he withdraws his fingers, leaving behind an emphasised emptiness that you didn’t mind before now. You whimper in response, hips jerking upwards as if in chase of his touch.
“Please.”
Struggling against the belt, you willed more strength into your movements as he pulls away from you, leaving a chill in his wake. Semi slides off his jeans and underwear in one move, exposing the flushed, leaking tip of the rigid cock that you could feel when he was grinding into you before.
Besides the copious amount of pre-cum you could see staining his skin, the length alone was enough to drily swallow at. He was definitely packing more than you would’ve imagined. Fucking hell.
At your wide-eyed stare, Semi shoots you a knowing grin and rifles through the discarded jeans pockets to produce another bright blue packet of lube.
“Trust me, we’ll need it.”
You don’t voice that the extra lube is the issue here. Instead you hazard a question, “Condom?”
To which Semi gives a lazy shrug and rips open the packet with his teeth.
“Won’t need it,” dark eyes, pupils nearly swallowing coffee-hued irises whole, lock with yours and you again blame the alcohol for the sweeping sensation in your gut. “I saw you take the pill earlier on. Naughty, by the way.”
You didn’t deign him a response, knowing it’d be a wasted breath to explain why you were on it. Though his attention was already gone, turned to his own pressing issue. It felt dirty to watch him generously slick himself up, giving himself long pumps, tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pauses to smear the pre-cum across the tip. With the alcohol-induced buzzing within your veins, you admit to yourself that it was hot seeing him like this.
The tattoos of trees and dragons arching playfully across his thighs seemingly frame Semi’s pride and glory for your greedy eyes. Everything about Semi was an art, his body, his voice, the way he looks at you as he releases himself to grab your thighs and pry them impossibly further apart.
You didn’t mind when he was shamelessly grinding against your ass in full view for anyone to see and you sure as hell didn’t mind when he nudges at your entrance after barely any prep.
A shuddering breath is released from you as he starts to slide in, the coil in your gut tightening at the bite of pain bolting through you, the stretch all too consuming, and exactly what you needed.
“Nothing else smart to say?” Semi goads, unable to help himself as he watches your jaw strain in the attempt to spitefully keep every noise locked up. “I can’t decide whether I like you being quiet or not, yet.”
The lube can only compensate for so much and did not help in the slightest as he gradually works himself into you by rutting into your warmth. It should be considered a small mercy that he didn’t slam in on home, like you suspected.
Time seemed to drag out, sweat gathering at your temples after barely doing anything, just Semi smoothly gliding inside until heated skin kisses heated skin and startles you from internally griping.
Semi, raging against his own instinct to start fucking you ruthlessly, chooses to lean down. Adjusting your head to see him better, you were half-hoping for another kiss. Instead you received hands groping your chest as he pushes up your shirt, pulling your bra down enough free them whilst simultaneously pushing them up to frame your chest for his pleasure.
“Perfect, now I can see them bounce while I fuck you stupid.”
Any will to deny him the pleasure of hearing how he wrecked you was shattered as he pulls back and starts fucking you like a vengeful demigod. A gasp flies from you mouth as Semi sticks to his promise and comes out the gate with a furious pace with the rhythm of a war drum.
The alcohol should’ve helped dull the senses, make it easier to hide behind the thin veneer of this being a means to an end. Yet your nerves felt frayed, hypersensitive to each touch he delivered, every push of his hips, your ears keen for each minute sound he makes, mindlessly seeking validation.
“You look so much cuter without that high and mighty act.”
“It-“ Your voice pitches into a gasp as he fluidly rolls his hips into yours, seating his cock deep inside your snug walls. “It wasn’t an act.” You futilely argue, the panting cushioning the blow of any steel found your words.
“No, baby.” He croons back, eating up the way you squirmed against the cushions as he slows so you’re forced to listen to every word. “You wanted me so bad that you acted like a stone cold bitch to get my attention, so needy for me.”
You could hardly speak, much less muster any kind of response to the self-inflation of his ego, as he drives his dick into you deep – deep enough that a painful nudge signals he’s hitting your cervix. The thought has you bearing down on him all the more.
“Fuck. Do that again, baby.”
Bright flashes of colour dance across your eyesight as he hits your cervix again, your jaw drops in a loud gasp that shocked even you.
“Ah-!”
Your body reflexively clenches around him, whether in effort to stop him from mercilessly pounding into the same spot or to urge him on, you have no idea. Tears gathering on your waterline finally spill over, shuddering breath escaping your lips between nonsensical noises.
Brushing the tears from your eyes, a large hand locks around your jaw, followed by his tongue invading your mouth. It served as a decent distraction, the warmth in your mouth overpowering the growing heat in your gut, making more slick noises join the chaos.
Drawing apart, Semi smirks down at you as drool escapes your mouth while he forces your jaw to stay open.
Draw back, shifting the grip on your face to press two fingers into your waiting mouth. Pressing against your tongue, drool gathers as he prevents you from swallowing.
“I’d like to see this,” he taps at your tongue, “Wrapped around my cock soon. Put your mouth to some good use.”
Your glazed eyes roll backwards, already overwhelmed with the deluge of sensations.
“Don’t look so eager,” he laughs, shifting his bruising hold downwards to cant your hips to meet his better. “Not today, but definitely soon. I bet that you’d look good with a cock stuffed into that cute mouth of yours.”
You shakily moan against his fingers, head spinning faster and faster as his hips continue to snap up into yours at a punishing pace.
“You look so good underneath me.” Your spinning head couldn’t discern it between a praise or ridicule, instead focusing on the way his lips trail across your collarbone. “Might have to make this a weekly thing, what do you think about that?”
A keen slips out as he digs his teeth, sharper than they appeared, into the flesh of your shoulder. Just when he has you thinking that he has a pattern going on, he’ll change it up. Suck, nip, thrust morphs into him sucking prolonged marks into your skin hips slapping in the mean while. Never can you claim that Semi for all his chaos isn’t good at multi-tasking.
Semi hums lowly, a noise that even through the sex-haze, your mind registered as dangerous.
“I think I’ll keep you around,” Semi slows, hips eventually stilling, and you smother a pathetic whine under the hands that you’ve buried your face into. “I was looking for someone like you, so perfect and obedient for me.”
The logical voice inside your head that’s been drowned out by lustful need now screams. You knew Semi’s game, it was hard not to know of the notorious people in the scene you played in, and yet you ignored all the red flags and warning alarms yet again.
In a perfect world, where your head didn’t feel like it was cradled on a cottony bed and Semi’s cock wasn’t throbbing inside you, you would’ve like to turn Semi’s game against him. Lose the battle to win the war. But you were too far gone, need overpowering reason.
“Anything, please just,” you pathetically try to move your hips against his tight grip and fail miserably with a whine. “Please fuck me.”
“Such a dirty mouth,” Semi teasingly tuts, thumbing at your swollen, split-slick bottom lip. Your tongue flicks out to greet it and breath fans across your face as he chuckles. “I’ll have fun with that later. But for now…” He trails off, eyes glinting with dark promise, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Hiking your leg up further, Semi smoothly buried himself again and the rough pace picks up once again. Only this time, Semi doesn’t keep his hand glued to your hip. You don’t know what struck him to try it, but you’ll forever be grateful as he presses against your stomach. The additional pressure creates a new dimension to the pleasure already washing through you.
“Shit.” You both simultaneously curse, with Semi gritting his teeth against the way you bear down on him.
“You like that, huh?”
You were quickly becoming overwhelmed, the pain from digging your nails into your palm no longer helping ground you. Nearing the finish, it was a battle of wills to see who’d crumble first. With how head-strong the both of you are, it could go either way.
From the way his hips stuttered and breathing became laboured, you knew he was close. Proud, you note that he is the first to cum and you hardly register the disappointment in having to go solo. Ready to finish yourself off, you reach down only for Semi to smack away your hand and roughly seek out your neglected clit, pressing harshly down when you gasp as he brushes against it.
“There it is,” Semi starts rubbing concise circles into you and just like that, you’re shaking apart, unravelling at the seams as he continues to spill inside your clenching cunt.
“Eita!” His name came as a near squeal as you hopelessly fall apart around him.
Climax like being dropped into a vat of liquid ecstasy, head thrashing back and forth as he work you higher and higher. Such a violent, yet intoxicating, high.
The feather-light sensation turns leaden in your veins as a deeply unimpressed voice intones from the doorway.
"Seriously? On the fucking couch."
"Semi-Semi, you dirty dog." A lilting voice chimes in.
"If you're going to watch then shut the fuck up, otherwise leave before I beat your asses." Semi’s voice is barely above a growl, rife with irritation, yet he doesn’t break eye contact from you as he remains intimately connected with you.
You're not brave enough to steal a look over Semi’s shoulders, but you know a crowd of them is there by the sounds of muttered curses and the shuffle of shoes echoing down the hall. It wasn’t exactly encouraging, seeing as you didn’t know if anyone followed Semi’s other instruction and stayed behind, but Semi steals back your attention.
"Ready for more?" Knowledge that the walls now had ears and eyes didn’t stop you from breathlessly nodding. If you were going to make a stupid decision, you are going to damn make sure you got your fill of him before you walked away.
Little did you know that Semi shared that exact same sentiment.
could i request some shiratorizawa boy friend head canon pleaseeeee ❤️
SHIRATORIZAWA BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS
ushijima, tendou, semi, shirabu
USHIJIMA
he wouldn’t be a clingy boyfriend, but note that he always has his lingering gaze on you all the time
it’s as if he watches out for you yk, ushijima loves you with all his heart and everyone in the school probably knows how no one can hurt you because of your intimidating boyfriend
isn’t much in pda but he very much likes holding your hand!! it came to the point where he starts to initiate it first and now tendou is screaming about it
he loves taking you on dates!!!! probably plans the cutest dates for you
your dates would mostly invest on restaurants and parks because the both of you are in love with nature a lot!!
kisses with him are so soft and sweet, he’ll hold you so dearly as if you’re made out of porcelain before having that tiny smile while looking at you
valentines day suddenly feels so special for Ushijima because now he has you, he’ll be giving you a bouquet of flowers every year plus a date planned on his own
tendou helped with the planning but that’s a secret
lowkey makes his day better when you wait for him during practice :(
sometimes, when he’s free he’ll be waiting for you infront of your classroom so he could walk you home
gifts you little potted plants and teaches you how to take care of them and now you have like five of them in your room, all healthy and cute
tendou enters the scene once again and calls them your ‘kids’ and honestly he’s not wrong
it’s just a pure and wholesome relationship with you and Wakatoshi ❤️ adorable
TENDOU
there would not be a day where your relationship with tendou would be boring
it’s all about fun and new things!!
tendou loves trying new things with you
and dates with him are so fun!! your first date was a really casual and simple one, but as your relationship progresses he starts taking you zip lining and other extreme stuff lol
he honestly wants to see you every sec as much as possible!! so expect him to be waiting outside your classroom if ever you’re in a different class
tendou: Y/N-CHANNN~~~ *flinging his arms over his head*
meanwhile your classmates hella thirdwheels but that’s ok because they find your relationship cute anyway hehe
he leaves you random gifts by your table so you could have something to smile for everyday :( as if his existence itself wouldn’t make you grin like a maniac
short thought he definitely gossips with you
he has like this long ass list in his brain of players he find annoying and basically he tells you what comes out of his mind
mans loves touching you yk, may it be holding your hand or having his arm wrapped around your shoulder, he wants to feel your touch
your birthdays are ALWAYS special. ALWAYS.
EVERYTIME tendou meets you across the hallways or lunch time he’ll great you happy birthday with a big fat hug and honestly that’s the 10393th time he does that to you in a day
the both of you are like the comedic couple ngl
you and your boyfriend basically loves poking fun at people and because of him you’re not scared of ushijima anymore lol
the whole volleyball team lowkey wants to tear the both of you apart because y’all can’t just stop pranking them lmao ✊ justice for shiratorizawa vb club
SEMI
cuties
he’s like half tsundere half uhh idk what do you call it but you know what i mean
he probably does short affections in public so he doesn’t mind pda as long as it’s minimal
before classes start he’ll wait for you by the gate so he knows whether you’re in school or not, then proceeds to hold your hand as he takes you to your classroom
he loves giving you forehead kisses!! it’s a must for him to do or else he will feel like he’s missing something >:(
semi respects you so so much!! your privacy and everything- so before he does something he’ll be asking for your consent just to make sure if you’re feeling comfortable or not
one time he asked you if he could kiss your lips and honestly !! eita !! you !! dont !! have !! to !! ask !! just !! do !! it !!
because of that he became a lil bold and it’s kinda annoying cause he lowkey loves teasing you lol
100% he’ll give you his sweater when he sees you getting the shivers from the cold
it’s honestly like a priority- you’re his priority.
SHIRABU
your relationship with shirabu becomes more comfortable and loose as it escalates through months and years
he’s pretty much a quiet lover, but his love language is lowkey touch
he’ll slowly hold your hand under the table
he doesn’t want pda around people because of the teasing and what irks him more is that the whole team is teasing you
like cmon, the vb team can tease him nonstop only if it means to not bother you
dark glances from afar when he gets jealous of someone trying to flirt with you
he really doesn’t get jealous easily but when the time comes, oh well
dates with shirabu are all about comfort !!
the both of you can cuddle in bed for the whole day and call it a date
study sessions are kinda fun too!! i mean, minus the studying obviously
the both of you are wrapped around a comfortable n quiet atmosphere and five minutes later your boyfriend has his fingers laced through yours
he doesn’t tell anyone but he loves it when you wait for him during practice
you’re an important part in his life now
like he hears your name coming out from someones mouth and he quickly has his attention turned to them, “what did you say?”
bro chill
almost all the time he goes to buy something and when he sees something that reminds him of you he quickly grabs it without a thought lmao this man is a simp for you i swear
Birthdays, a single day marked down on the calendar. It’s the same date, unchanging, yet year after year, Taichi’s birthday still catches you by surprise. Nevertheless, while curled up in bed with his legs completely entangled in yours, came the discussion on how to spend it.
Taichi seemed indifferent about celebrating, soon claiming exhaustion and that had put the topic on ice until the next day. From the conversations in the weeks leading up to it, you gauged that he wasn’t into a party on his actual birthday, which unfortunately placed on a Tuesday this year. You wholeheartedly agreed – a mid-week hangover wasn’t in the cards.
After much back and forth with Taichi arguing he’s fine without a party for his 24th. You both finally come to an agreement of a small gathering with new and old friends and family that weekend.
Taichi, in all the years you’ve known him, can be summed up in two words: easy going. He was happy to have a party so long as it didn’t put either you or him out in anyway. As the date neared, you could tell from snippets of conversation that he was looking forward to meeting up with old high school friends and his parents that he hasn’t seen since January.
What Taichi didn’t agree or know about was that you were planning a surprise on his actual birthday. What he didn’t know won’t hurt. It was probably for the best because in the end, he was scheduled an entire gruelling day of university classes and work.
You bemoaned that it was a poor way to celebrate his day, but he shrugged it off. What else was he to do?
Now with today being the day, he was already up and gone before you could muster a kiss and a ‘happy birthday’. The rest of the day saw to you darting in and out of the shared apartment, followed by a stressing in the kitchen.
It was unexpected receiving a text that they asked him to stay back and being who he is, Taichi reluctantly agree for the paycheck. Guilt swelled inside you at the relief you felt reading that. The extra hour would give you plenty of time to finish arranging everything.
An hour later found you finishing up cooking a miniature feast to make up for the lacklustre day. You ended up ordering in some dishes in that you weren’t brave enough to conquer – the spread was enough to astound a food critique. You hoped that Taichi is hungry after nearly losing a finger by making the sukiyaki that he constantly craved.
You had asked his mother for the recipe, knowing that he’d appreciate it even if it wasn’t as great as hers. She was more than happy to pass it down to you, gushing about how sweet you are for doing it for her son. You weren’t compelled to tell her that you’d walk over a bed of fire for Taichi and everything he’s done for you. This was the least of what you could do for you.
It was as you rinsed off a plate, table set out with the modest layout of food, when the door creaks open.
“Babe, I’m home!” He calls out, keys rattling as he places them in the key dish.
“In the dining room,” you call out in kind.
Dropping the plate in the dish drainer to deal with later, you dry your hands and dart into the adjoining room, beating him by a hair of a second. He blinks at the streamers thrown around the room, following their colourful trails until his eyes widen as they alight on the food-laden table.
“Surprise!” You announce, arms held wide and invitingly. “I know this isn’t much, but I thought-“
Taichi doesn’t let you finish, instead sweeping you up in a strong, all-encompassing hug that quickly became his trademark.
“It’s perfect.” He murmurs into your hair, grip somehow becoming tighter as you run your hands through his hair.
Patting him on the back, you try to delay your own welling emotions by whispering back, “Happy birthday, iron giant.”
Taichi pulls away with a small grin. “I’m not even that tall, but okay.”
“Sure, mister six foot four.” You roll your eyes and grab his hand, tugging him towards the table and seating him. “Please tell me you’re hungry because I think I might cry if I have to throw this all out.”
“Absolutely famished.” Taichi replies, picking up his chopsticks and letting them hover in the air between dishes, as if he couldn’t decide where to start.
“Here, let me serve you up,” you offer, scooping up his bowl and piling it full of food that you think he’ll enjoy the most. His eyes light up at the loaded dish as you pass it off with a caution, “Please remember to chew, I don’t want to take you to the emergency room tonight.”
“I dunno,” he drawls, plopping a bite into his mouth and swallowing it. “Sounds like fun to me. They might even give me a sticker for being a good boy.”
Shaking your head at him, you take a seat and start eating alongside him. The conversation doesn’t waver, instead taking off to him gushing about how good everything tasted and morphs into surprise when you confess that you made some of them.
Even after long and tedious day, it warmed you to see him so full of vigour. Well, at least Taichi’s own special brand of it.
After the dishes are nearly empty and the table is cleared away, Taichi and you set up shop on the lounge. Stretching and drifting away in the post-food coma, the both of you watch the random movie Taichi selected with little interest, instead paying more attention to each other’s quiet comments on the acting.
From all the food you hated to see wasted, you were full enough to contemplate a life living out on the lounge, comfortably perched between his askew legs on the over-stuffed lounge. The poor slice of the cake that you had to rushed to pick up earlier today at abandoned on the coffee table Taichi was brave enough to put his feet up on – neither of you being eager enough to eat again so soon.
You softly knock your elbow into his ribcage. “No feet on the table, not when food is on it, please.”
He exaggerates a long-suffering groan before he bends forward and picks up the cake, settling back into place behind you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that you didn’t trust in the slightest.
“If you smash my face into that cake, Taichi, I swear-“
“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling dearest.” He purrs, swiping some of the frosting off with his forefinger.
Knowing Taichi wouldn’t expose his plan, you’re silent as he tilts your head to meet his gaze head-on and smears the frosting on your lips. His breath fans across your skin and warms your rapidly heating cheeks.
“Now it’s time for dessert.”
You couldn’t deny Taichi on a good day, but on his birthday? You were happy to spend a night indulging every request he made.
Summary: After watching you struggle with the course material, he offers to help out with an unconventional method.
Notes: I wasn’t going to drop this today but oh well. I hope the long weekend is treating everyone well!!
Standing in front of a door that you could find with your eyes closed, you absent-mindedly smooth out the front of your skirt in effort to expel the excited tremor in your fingers as you wait for it to open.
Surprisingly, the door didn’t immediately swing open after a short knock like previous times, but you saw no reason to knock again. Knowing that Shirabu had seen your text of arriving soon for the bi-weekly study dates gave you enough patience to not make a racket – something you’re sure his neighbours would greatly appreciate.
Your relationship with Shirabu happened to spark from your first study session with him for a project, nestled between the university library aisles. The study sessions remained after becoming a couple and soon became the highlight of your week.
Uninterrupted time spent with Shirabu amidst the chaos of daily life felt like heaven, even with reading chunks of dry academic texts. Shirabu’s presence alone made it all just that bit more bearable.
Thankfully, Shirabu didn’t keep you waiting long and answered the door with his usual grace, not a hair out of place from its sleek style. The tightness in his face drains away at seeing you standing there, lips baring the subtlest hint of a smile. You find it hard to stop your heart from stopping.
“Finally, you’re here. I thought that you might’ve gotten distracted or lost again.” He says in lieu of a greeting, opening the door wider and you didn’t hesitate to follow him into the genkan and remove your shoes while Shirabu takes your coat.
“That was literally on my first time visiting here. As if you can blame me for getting lost.” You argue, pursing your lips as his lips quirk upwards, obviously enjoying stirring you.
“I honestly can’t fathom how you got lost with my directions and with google maps.” He counters.
Quite easy, you sulk. The apartment complex Shirabu lives in is best described as labyrinthine and it’s a miracle you’ve only been lost once, having to send a SOS message to Shirabu who found you in no time at all, a lecture on his tongue and worry-line creasing his forehead.
That is not your brightest memory, but you cherished it, nonetheless.
Instead of responding, you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight hug, something he wasn’t anticipating if his temporary stiffness is anything to go by. Letting out a fond sigh, he relaxes into your hold and reciprocates your hold, burying his nose into your hair and relishing in the familiar scent.
“I missed you,” You admit quietly enough that Shirabu almost misses it.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s been hard. I missed you too,” he concedes, drawing back and tilting your head back with a finger under your chin. You pause at the sincere look on his face. “The residents have been really busy and passing the shit jobs to us poor interns,” another sigh, this one much less fond. “At least cases have finally plateaued enough for them to focus on actually teaching us the skills we need for the practical exam soon.”
Fortifying your will not pin him against the door and kiss him until you’ve had your fill, you find content with a small peck on his mouth that results in an amused tick of a blond brow.
“Alright, let’s get started. We’ve already wasted enough time.”
“You say that as if you don’t enjoy being all cutesy. You can’t hide the truth from me, Shirabu.” You tease, jumping out of his reach and dashing past him and into the living room when he makes to grab you.
Not bothering to incite any more of his benign wrath, you place your bag on the floor and start making yourself comfortable at the low table already burdened with Shirabu’s thick chemistry and anatomy textbooks.
The small studio apartment Shirabu inhabited was provided on behalf of the university. It came fully furnished, all on the stipulation of an academic scholarship which Shirabu worked his ass off to keep his GPA above a six. While you found it ridiculous to maintain a grade so high just to live here, you suppose it’s worth it just to not have any roommates. More often than not this apartment is where a lot of dates occur.
Striding past, Shirabu ruffles your hair and snorts at your indignant shout, before sitting opposite to you and resuming his studying on… You glance down at the current chapter open and deduce that virology must be the current hot topic with patient case studies he’s assigned to review. Ever the diligent student, Shirabu must’ve thought it’d be best to brush up on his rudimentary knowledge on the subject.
“If I knew that you were going to stare the whole time, I would’ve just studied by myself and sent you a picture to gawk at instead.” Shirabu states, amusement rather than annoyance colouring his tone.
You glance down to your own closed books even though you’ve already been called out. “You know a picture could never compare to your beauty.” You reply suavely, propping your chin on your hand and open the textbook with all the enthusiasm of someone attending a funeral of a detested relative.
Shirabu shoots you an unimpressed look that you respond with a cheeky smile. He sighs, turns back to his laptop and the rapid typing resumes again. Taking the cue, you feel dread swim to the surface at the words printed on the page before you and frown at it. Just like your lecturers, the content here is brutally dry.
Gnawing on your bottom lip, you glimpse out the side of your eye to study Shirabu’s slightly stooped posture. Unfortunately, Shirabu is entirely enthralled with whatever he’s reading, and you deduce that he definitely wasn’t in the mood for fun.
Disheartened, you pick up a pen and start answering some lecture questions in the hopes that it’ll be more tolerable than reading pages of boring text.
Your quick to find out that it isn’t.
If anything, with each incorrect answer you find your morale breaking into tiny little shards that shear your pride. After scoring your answers and seeing the blatant margin that you would’ve failed by, tears of frustration want to make their appearance known. You knew it wasn’t going to be great, but you didn’t think it was going to be this bad, either.
It shouldn’t be this damn hard after a full week buried in textbooks and internet tabs.
This sudden downward shift in your demeanour didn’t slip by Kenjirou. Barely an hour has gone by, but he decides you guys need a break when he sees you starting to get frustrated, looking suspiciously close to tears.
Kenjirou always hated to see you crying over things like course work. He could think of much more illicit occasions that he made you cry; those times are the only exemption.
He cracks, closing his textbook and devoting his attention to you, knowing being direct is the best way to handle it.
“What’s wrong?”
You whip your head up and try to school your features. “Nothing.” You respond too quickly.
You inwardly wince at Shirabu’s disbelieving look at the blatant lie but don’t say anything as he stares you down. After a few heartbeats spent locked in an impromptu staring contest with no winner in sight, Shirabu narrows his eyes at you and shuts his laptop with a decisive click.
“Stop pouting and come over here,” Shirabu says, patting the ground beside him.
Confused and curious, you obliged and shift over to his side, not meeting his eyes as you settle to his right.
Kenjirou didn’t question your sudden shyness. What he did question is the cause. From all the compromising positions he’s both put and found you in, he finds it endearing that you could still be bashful around him.
Gently grasping your chin, Kenjirou draws you into a kiss that stole the breath from your very lungs. A perfect distraction from what had you so worked up.
Breaking apart, he gazes deeply into your eyes. “I’m going to ask one more time: please tell me what’s wrong.”
The seemingly harsh words were softened by the note of concern in his tone. The floodgates open at his honest, open expression and you start ranting about the frankly ridiculous work, the idiot of a professor who has no idea what they’re teaching and how close you are to losing the plot over what should be a simple set of questions.
Shirabu blinks once, twice, then he it dawns on him that you’re frustrated over doing badly on the question sets. You melt into the palm of his hand when he cups your cheek.
“Why didn’t you just ask for help?”
You look away, unable to meet his soft eyes. “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I know that the metabolic pathways is just as difficult for you.”
Shirabu scoffs. “Metabolic biochemistry is a pain in my ass, and you should know by now that I’m happy for any kind of distraction.” Brushing the hair out of you face, he hands you the box of tissues resting on the table. “Take a couple of deep breaths, calm down, and bring the book over here. We’ll work through them together.”
You visibly perk up, mouth stretching into a grin before dropping back into a frown. “Are you sure, Kenjirou?”
He resolutely closes his own textbook and shoots you a reassuring half-smile. “I’m sure. Hurry up or I might change my mind.”
As you scramble to gather your textbook and supplies, Shirabu breaks out a fresh page and gestures you to show him the chapter you’re struggling with. In a comfortable silence, you watch him read, jot down some notes, and soon starts the impromptu tutoring session.
You nod along as he takes the concepts apart and reassembles them before your very eyes with all the ease of someone who’s devoted themselves to the field. What took you an hour and a near breakdown, had taken Kenjirou half that time.
“Thank you, Kenjirou.” You lean forward and catch him unsuspecting as you capture his lips in a long kiss. “I really appreciate it, y’know.” You mumble against his mouth, to which he simply hums at, hands tugging at your waist.
Not fighting it, you slide into his lap, lips not leaving his as the kiss deepens and lengthens. Not necessarily the direction you’d assume he would go, but it is definitely a much-appreciated break.
Afterwards, you had expected for him to suggest getting back to work, maybe after one or two more kisses. What you weren’t expecting is for him to suggest: “How will I know that you understand if I don’t test you?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “All this just to avoid biochemistry?”
Shirabu cocks his brows at your avoidance of his offer. You sigh and begrudgingly agree with his logic.
“Fine, but you’re not allowed to tease me if I get some wrong. This topic is kicking my ass.”
“You should do fine so long as you listened to half of what I said.” Shirabu simply responds.
The knot of unease didn’t alleviate at the words of encouragement. Still, you brush your thumb over his knuckles in thanks.
Putting on a brave face, you boast unearned confidence in your newfound knowledge, “Give me your best questions and I’ll ace each one.”
“Love the enthusiasm,” Shirabu says, “Now come lay across my lap.”
You level him a long look, but he just stares right back at you, no sign of mischief present. Narrowing your eyes at him, you glance down at your notes, not taking them in at all, before moving.
As you stretch over his lap, you become acutely aware of your skirt riding up and the stretch of your underwear around intimate areas.
A small grin makes its way across his face as Shirabu guides you into position over his lap, to which you startle and start to fidget. As he folds your skirt up and gives you a gentle tap to your perky ass, immediately halting any and all movement on your end.
He leans down and whispers into your ear, “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” Came the immediate answer, anticipation now racing through you.
Kenjirou watches you shift in place, gaze lingering on the way you clench your bare thighs together, and immediately decides that he didn’t at all mind the sudden deviation in his schedule. A detour into anatomy wouldn’t be a bad one.
You gasp at the sensation of him snapping the band of your underwear, and he smirks down at your lidded eyes, not looking at all affronted. Shirabu had his suspicions from previous sexual interactions, but it’s always nice to be proven correct.
“For every incorrect answer, you’ll get a spank.”
A very unorthodox study aid, yet you can’t summon a single contesting word as his fingers draw nonsensical patterns into your skin.
Summoning every ounce of composure you possess; you ignore your thundering heartbeat raging in your ears and keep your voice even as you question him, “And if I’m correct?”
“Well isn’t someone confident in their abilities that they just learnt,” Kenjirou snickers as you whine at him. “Fine, you get a kiss for every one and if you answer over half of them correct, we’ll take a longer break.”
Finding the conditions more than agreeable, if a little foreboding in the sense that this is the first time Shirabu has instigated something of this nature. It was new and exciting, and your eyes blaze at the challenge.
“Okay.”
After hours of cramming at home, only to do the same at Kenjirou’s… You more than deserved to give your poor brain a break, especially one that may lead too little to no clothes on either of your bodies.
Kenjirou drags over your textbook, flipping to a new set of questions and starts quizzing you. You proceed to get the first two correct, Shirabu was obviously going easy and assessing where exactly you’re struggling. With each right answer, he leans down and delivers a peck to the cheek, much to your hopefully well-hidden dismay.
The next four questions however… To say that your answers were shockingly wrong was an understatement.
The first smack take you by surprise, yelping as his palm contacts your ass. The loud slap of skin-on-skin sounded much worse than the fleeting sting of pain.
“Are you alright?” He asks, concern ringing clear.
You shiver at the feel of his fingers stroking the newly irritated skin. Unable to find the words, you settle on a nod.
“Next one, please.”
You both ignore the shaking of your voice and dive back into it. His slaps get harder with each consecutive incorrect response, staining soft cheeks a rough pink that had his own blood thrumming beneath the surface.
Nimble digits glide down the expanse of your spine between smacks, a quiet and tender apology. One that you didn’t demand nor want.
Okay, maybe this wasn’t the most effective study aid, but you are honestly too turned on to care at this point. It was hard to tell the same thoughts were going through Shirabu’s mind as he hums in contemplation as you give yet another incorrect response.
“Um, is it ‘A’?”
A tut, followed by the ring of skin hitting skin. You swallow thickly and clench your thighs together harder, failing to alleviate the pressure building high between them.
Irritation at yourself further trips you up, as much as the thought of Shirabu disciplining you turned you on, another kink becoming obvious under Shirabu’s skilled ministrations, you hated appearing stupid in front of anyone, much less the person you love.
Worst yet, every shift causes your panties to move. The fabric becomes unforgiving in the way it harshly rubs against sensitive flesh, setting the nerves alight.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re doing this on purpose.” He goads after yet another blaringly wrong response.
Kenjirou is fully aware of how frustrated you were becoming at both the questions and his smacks, which were slowly migrating south, covering your cheeks with an even spread of hits, making sure not to focus them in one particular area.
“I’m trying my best.” You murmur, unable to hide the thread of defeat slowly strangling your ego.
“Do you want to continue?” You try not to shudder at the tenderness of his words, a direct contrast to the smarting pain of your ass.
“Yes, let’s finish the set.” You say resolutely.
Shirabu hesitates for a moment longer before reading out another question that for the life of you made no sense. Scrambling, you choke out a reply and earn another smack for it.
The cycle from before starts anew.
While you couldn’t see it, you could feel the wetness gathering between your legs with each delivered hit. Futilely, you try to hide how turned on you are from Shirabu by clenching your thighs together as the smacks travel further and further down your ass, until you could feel the vibrations of each hit in the crest of your legs.
Another downwards stroke, this time without the accompanying question as punishment for not giving an answer. The resounding sound of flesh hitting flesh and the accompanying burn – that is all your world boiled down to. Shirabu’s voice devolving into a deep, shapeless croon as he asks another question that your spinning head couldn’t comprehend.
“Huh?”
Kenjirou finds that the shade your poor abused cheeks become compliment the dazed expression on your face.
“It’s almost like you want to be spanked,” Shirabu hums out loud after delivering the final smack, “but that can’t be right. Surely you didn’t get this dirty-minded while I was working. Or maybe…“ He leads off, tone dipping low. The building anticipation turns to dread at his next words.
“Maybe you’ve been a filthy girl this the entire time, hiding it from me. Which one is it?”
You shiver at the implications of selecting one answer over the other. There’s no clear winner, either way you’d confess that you have undisclosed kink. Shirabu bites back a laugh at your telling silence.
Fed-up with your squirming and breathless gasps, Kenjirou closes the book with a sigh, disappointed that you couldn’t last a little longer – you were far too excited to continue with the game. From the small gap you presented as you parted your legs, he could see that your panties are soaked.
“That’ll be enough. I think a short break is deserved.” Shirabu brushing his fingertips lightly over the pink marks, contemplating getting you an icepack from the fridge to help soothe the pain before you speak up.
“But I didn’t get the questions right.” You rebuke, and immediately shut your mouth with an audible clack, wanting nothing more than to eat your own words.
Maybe your masochistic streak is wider than you previously assumed…
For Kenjirou, though, your words were like a lit match to gasoline. Desire ravages any remanent plans of memorising viral interference with cellular metabolism.
“True,” he concedes, hands tightening on your waist, “But how could I possibly resist a squirming lapful of you, bunny? It’d be cruel to leave you like this.”
You open your mouth to ask: “Like what?” – until the feel of him tracing the seam of your panties kills the words dead.
“You really enjoyed that, huh?” He asks rhetorically, voice teasing.
“Kind of hard not to enjoy it,” You reply honestly, shifting in his lap as his fingers circle the growing wet patch, spreading your legs wider for him.
He roughly presses the soaked fabric into the dip, earning a whimper as your nails bite into the palm of your hand as you squeeze them into tight fists.
“Let me reward you for your diligent studying.” His digits sneak under the thin fabric and slide through your slit, finding it more slick than your panties showed.
Gathering up the wetness, he ignores your entrance in favour for delicately pressing against the clit and rubbing short circles against it. You whine out his name, hips bucking up into his touch.
“So noisy.” He admonishes, the cold touch of his other hand against the heated globes of your ass causing you to jolt forward with another small whine.
He slowly strokes between the folds with one hand for a few moments as the other one comes up and grips your face, tight enough so you couldn’t talk, yet not enough to cross into painful territory.
A soft groan sounds out as his fingers eventually leave, only for them to tear the panties down your legs and shove them into your ajar mouth. You could taste the essence of your arousal on the damp fabric. Apprehension should have been the fore-thought, yet it only served to turn you on more.
Not expecting the slap that comes next, it startles a high noise from you that has Shirabu chuckling. Heat rushes into your cheeks, an unbearable temperature matching the heat from friction on your ass. The last two strokes he metes out smack over your bare pussy.
You forget to how to breathe. It didn’t help that Shirabu’s hand comes up and brushes the hair from your face, a caring gesture warning you to hold onto for the next part. He is not going to hold back.
Shirabu’s built frame, cords of muscle stretching taunt beneath smooth ivory skin screaming unleashed power as he gets into place behind your figure. Patiently waiting for him, on your knees with your elbows bracing the weight, bare ass up in the air. While half the fun was being able to see the cute expressions you make while he fucks you, he doubts the regular position would be all that comfortable with your glowing ass cheeks.
“Hips up.” He instructs, sliding you off his lap and helping you move into a better position on the floor. “This should help alleviate some of the pressure.”
Considerate, you think to yourself, keeping your mind distracted from the tug of irritated skin as you stretch your back into an arching position, leaking hole on full display. By the time he presses a finger into you, you were already shaking.
Already so wet, a squelching noise sounds as he dips inside. From the erection you could feel before, splayed across his lap, it didn’t strike you as odd when he quickly – methodically – spreads you open. Kenjirou commits each sweet sound to memory as he strokes areas he knows make your toes curl.
The sound of blood rushing fills your ears as he pulls his fingers away and lines up. Cockhead temptingly resting against your entrance, his hands leaving his cock to carefully frame your rosy ass cheeks and pushing them up so he can watch his cock be engulfed by your pussy.
Shirabu, ever the genial gentlemen, caves in with your squirming and finally rolls his hips and smoothly enters you in one stroke. He could play cool all he wanted but judging from the pink irritated colour the tip and how fiercely his cock throbs nestled between your walls. It’s enough to portray his subtle excitement to you.
You groan around the fabric, eyes squeezing shut and try your best to not tense up. The stretch is so much better, fuller and more addictive, than his fingers. Not that he couldn’t work miracles with just those devilish digits when he wanted to reduce you to a begging mess of tears.
Beginning to truly relax around him, your eyes remained focused on the small black stain on the carpet as you give a nod, a go-ahead.
Damn. You never would’ve guessed for this to feel so good, so breath-taking.
It shouldn’t have felt good, for him to fucking you rough enough for the slap of his hips against yours, the position allowing your sensitive ass to absorb some of the impact. The sound of Shirabu’s cursing with every constriction of your walls from the doubled ache of your lower body has you all the more riled up.
During the foreplay you were already incredibly close. Now is a game of how long you could hold out for.
“Kenjirou,” The whine was greatly muffled, barely coherent.
A breathless chuckle. “So cute when you’re needy like this.”
To accentuate his point, he grinds against your ass once fully seated, eliciting a lewd wet sound that has your internal temperature sky-rocketing.
“I hope you don’t give all your tutors a happy ending.”
You frantically shake your head, all while canting your hips, hoping and near sobbing when his dick hits between the folds in your walls.
“I doubt they’d even know how to handle you,” Shirabu muses aloud, trailing a finger up your spine and entangling his fist in your hair. Using the grip, he moves your head to the side, forcing you to showcase your obscene expressions to him. “Just like me, you’d have them all thinking that you’re this prim and proper girl and yet…”
A vicious smirk grows on his lips as your face screws up lewdly, looking reminiscent of his late-night fantasies of fucking you over his TA desk – one he hopes to fulfill one day. For now, he’ll focus on fucking you good enough that you can’t look at the living room without remembering this.
In the meanwhile, his hips don’t stutter for a moment, continuing to drill into you. The burn of your knees as his thrusts drag you to-and-fro on the carpet is second to the pleasure consuming you.
“They have no idea how dirty you are.” The richness of his voice has you shivering in his grasp. “It’s fine, though, I’ll take care of every little dirty dream you have.”
Like the spoken word of a god, Shirabu would make true on that. Something for you to look forward to.
Honestly, from the amassing heat coiling tight in your abdomen, it wouldn’t take much more for you to collapse. The friction alone from the drag of his cock – so deep inside that it had to be close to your cervix – is enough for your eyes to roll back.
Your knees shouted for relief, but the scream of release overpowered it. You didn’t dare to move your hands to play with your clit, not when they were the only thing keeping you from face-planting on the floor and getting carpet burn on your face. The desperate whimpers you make come out garbled around the spit-soaked fabric.
“Sometimes I want to stay like this, buried inside you.”
You moan, bearing down on him at the sudden confession, painting an all too enticing picture. Shirabu grins at how easy you were to read, regardless of being balls-deep inside your warmth.
You could practically see the smirk on his face as he says, “You like that idea, huh? Being my personal cock sleeve.”
The bolts of pure electricity racing up your spine conceal the dull throbbing pain of your ass and knees, a numbing sensation seizing your limbs even though Shirabu’s eyes don’t leave the bouncing globes as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Distantly, you feel him sink his teeth into the meat of you shoulder, hard enough to sting even floating amongst the post-orgasmic high, as he pumps you full.
Head feeling blissfully hazy, the endorphin drop is cushioned by Shirabu soothingly stroking your back, patiently waiting for you to recover.
“How are you feeling?”
You turn your head to meet his worried eyes, giving him a soft smile to assuage some of those fears.
“I’m okay.” You sigh as you stretch out your legs, feeling cramped from kneeling for so long, and hiding your grimace from Shirabu at the pulsing ache from your knees. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better after a shower, though.”
Shirabu chuckles at your mumbling, kissing you on the cheek. You bite back a whine as he pulls out, disliking the empty feeling that remains. Shirabu hovers behind you and you can feel his stare burn into your skin as his eyes trace the fluids lazily leaking out of you. Shuddering, you inwardly bemoan that you’d never grow accustomed to the sensation.
Knowing he had a short time limit between you being complacent to uncomfortable with the mess, Shirabu hops up to grab a towel. He knew from the faint residual tremor in your legs that a shower wasn’t in the cards right now.
Back with a damp cloth, he gently shifts you up into a seating position leaning against his chest, and winces as you hiss at the pull of muscles. He makes quick work of wiping you down with almost-clinical swipes.
“Can we just lay down for a bit?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper. It sounds rough around the edges, like you had been screaming for the past hour and you hope for the sake of the apartment floor that you didn’t.
Shirabu tenderly brushes the hair away from your face and nods. “Of course.”
For a while, the you two laid together on the carpeted floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, with Shirabu gently messaging the tender globes, apologetic for the future pain of sitting.
After one long shower, you were exhausted but oddly clear minded you approached the question set with a new vigour. An hour later you found yourself cheering out loud and hugging an unimpressed Kenjirou over getting full marks.
“I told you that you had it in the bag.”
“Your faith in me is astounding.” You bump your shoulder to his and smile brightly when he stares back at you, mildly irked. “It’s because I have such a good tutor that I passed it with flying colours.” You add coyly.
He caves under your sunny attitude, lips quirking upwards and a hand comes up to ruffle your hair. “You need more faith in yourself. If you need more help, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
A shiver traces up your spine at the dip in his tone, the connotations laid thick and hard to ignore.
Summary: After watching you struggle with the course material, he offers to help out with an unconventional method.
Notes: I wasn’t going to drop this today but oh well. I hope the long weekend is treating everyone well!!
Standing in front of a door that you could find with your eyes closed, you absent-mindedly smooth out the front of your skirt in effort to expel the excited tremor in your fingers as you wait for it to open.
Surprisingly, the door didn’t immediately swing open after a short knock like previous times, but you saw no reason to knock again. Knowing that Shirabu had seen your text of arriving soon for the bi-weekly study dates gave you enough patience to not make a racket – something you’re sure his neighbours would greatly appreciate.
Your relationship with Shirabu happened to spark from your first study session with him for a project, nestled between the university library aisles. The study sessions remained after becoming a couple and soon became the highlight of your week.
Uninterrupted time spent with Shirabu amidst the chaos of daily life felt like heaven, even with reading chunks of dry academic texts. Shirabu’s presence alone made it all just that bit more bearable.
Thankfully, Shirabu didn’t keep you waiting long and answered the door with his usual grace, not a hair out of place from its sleek style. The tightness in his face drains away at seeing you standing there, lips baring the subtlest hint of a smile. You find it hard to stop your heart from stopping.
“Finally, you’re here. I thought that you might’ve gotten distracted or lost again.” He says in lieu of a greeting, opening the door wider and you didn’t hesitate to follow him into the genkan and remove your shoes while Shirabu takes your coat.
“That was literally on my first time visiting here. As if you can blame me for getting lost.” You argue, pursing your lips as his lips quirk upwards, obviously enjoying stirring you.
“I honestly can’t fathom how you got lost with my directions and with google maps.” He counters.
Quite easy, you sulk. The apartment complex Shirabu lives in is best described as labyrinthine and it’s a miracle you’ve only been lost once, having to send a SOS message to Shirabu who found you in no time at all, a lecture on his tongue and worry-line creasing his forehead.
That is not your brightest memory, but you cherished it, nonetheless.
Instead of responding, you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight hug, something he wasn’t anticipating if his temporary stiffness is anything to go by. Letting out a fond sigh, he relaxes into your hold and reciprocates your hold, burying his nose into your hair and relishing in the familiar scent.
“I missed you,” You admit quietly enough that Shirabu almost misses it.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s been hard. I missed you too,” he concedes, drawing back and tilting your head back with a finger under your chin. You pause at the sincere look on his face. “The residents have been really busy and passing the shit jobs to us poor interns,” another sigh, this one much less fond. “At least cases have finally plateaued enough for them to focus on actually teaching us the skills we need for the practical exam soon.”
Fortifying your will not pin him against the door and kiss him until you’ve had your fill, you find content with a small peck on his mouth that results in an amused tick of a blond brow.
“Alright, let’s get started. We’ve already wasted enough time.”
“You say that as if you don’t enjoy being all cutesy. You can’t hide the truth from me, Shirabu.” You tease, jumping out of his reach and dashing past him and into the living room when he makes to grab you.
Not bothering to incite any more of his benign wrath, you place your bag on the floor and start making yourself comfortable at the low table already burdened with Shirabu’s thick chemistry and anatomy textbooks.
The small studio apartment Shirabu inhabited was provided on behalf of the university. It came fully furnished, all on the stipulation of an academic scholarship which Shirabu worked his ass off to keep his GPA above a six. While you found it ridiculous to maintain a grade so high just to live here, you suppose it’s worth it just to not have any roommates. More often than not this apartment is where a lot of dates occur.
Striding past, Shirabu ruffles your hair and snorts at your indignant shout, before sitting opposite to you and resuming his studying on… You glance down at the current chapter open and deduce that virology must be the current hot topic with patient case studies he’s assigned to review. Ever the diligent student, Shirabu must’ve thought it’d be best to brush up on his rudimentary knowledge on the subject.
“If I knew that you were going to stare the whole time, I would’ve just studied by myself and sent you a picture to gawk at instead.” Shirabu states, amusement rather than annoyance colouring his tone.
You glance down to your own closed books even though you’ve already been called out. “You know a picture could never compare to your beauty.” You reply suavely, propping your chin on your hand and open the textbook with all the enthusiasm of someone attending a funeral of a detested relative.
Shirabu shoots you an unimpressed look that you respond with a cheeky smile. He sighs, turns back to his laptop and the rapid typing resumes again. Taking the cue, you feel dread swim to the surface at the words printed on the page before you and frown at it. Just like your lecturers, the content here is brutally dry.
Gnawing on your bottom lip, you glimpse out the side of your eye to study Shirabu’s slightly stooped posture. Unfortunately, Shirabu is entirely enthralled with whatever he’s reading, and you deduce that he definitely wasn’t in the mood for fun.
Disheartened, you pick up a pen and start answering some lecture questions in the hopes that it’ll be more tolerable than reading pages of boring text.
Your quick to find out that it isn’t.
If anything, with each incorrect answer you find your morale breaking into tiny little shards that shear your pride. After scoring your answers and seeing the blatant margin that you would’ve failed by, tears of frustration want to make their appearance known. You knew it wasn’t going to be great, but you didn’t think it was going to be this bad, either.
It shouldn’t be this damn hard after a full week buried in textbooks and internet tabs.
This sudden downward shift in your demeanour didn’t slip by Kenjirou. Barely an hour has gone by, but he decides you guys need a break when he sees you starting to get frustrated, looking suspiciously close to tears.
Kenjirou always hated to see you crying over things like course work. He could think of much more illicit occasions that he made you cry; those times are the only exemption.
He cracks, closing his textbook and devoting his attention to you, knowing being direct is the best way to handle it.
“What’s wrong?”
You whip your head up and try to school your features. “Nothing.” You respond too quickly.
You inwardly wince at Shirabu’s disbelieving look at the blatant lie but don’t say anything as he stares you down. After a few heartbeats spent locked in an impromptu staring contest with no winner in sight, Shirabu narrows his eyes at you and shuts his laptop with a decisive click.
“Stop pouting and come over here,” Shirabu says, patting the ground beside him.
Confused and curious, you obliged and shift over to his side, not meeting his eyes as you settle to his right.
Kenjirou didn’t question your sudden shyness. What he did question is the cause. From all the compromising positions he’s both put and found you in, he finds it endearing that you could still be bashful around him.
Gently grasping your chin, Kenjirou draws you into a kiss that stole the breath from your very lungs. A perfect distraction from what had you so worked up.
Breaking apart, he gazes deeply into your eyes. “I’m going to ask one more time: please tell me what’s wrong.”
The seemingly harsh words were softened by the note of concern in his tone. The floodgates open at his honest, open expression and you start ranting about the frankly ridiculous work, the idiot of a professor who has no idea what they’re teaching and how close you are to losing the plot over what should be a simple set of questions.
Shirabu blinks once, twice, then he it dawns on him that you’re frustrated over doing badly on the question sets. You melt into the palm of his hand when he cups your cheek.
“Why didn’t you just ask for help?”
You look away, unable to meet his soft eyes. “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I know that the metabolic pathways is just as difficult for you.”
Shirabu scoffs. “Metabolic biochemistry is a pain in my ass, and you should know by now that I’m happy for any kind of distraction.” Brushing the hair out of you face, he hands you the box of tissues resting on the table. “Take a couple of deep breaths, calm down, and bring the book over here. We’ll work through them together.”
You visibly perk up, mouth stretching into a grin before dropping back into a frown. “Are you sure, Kenjirou?”
He resolutely closes his own textbook and shoots you a reassuring half-smile. “I’m sure. Hurry up or I might change my mind.”
As you scramble to gather your textbook and supplies, Shirabu breaks out a fresh page and gestures you to show him the chapter you’re struggling with. In a comfortable silence, you watch him read, jot down some notes, and soon starts the impromptu tutoring session.
You nod along as he takes the concepts apart and reassembles them before your very eyes with all the ease of someone who’s devoted themselves to the field. What took you an hour and a near breakdown, had taken Kenjirou half that time.
“Thank you, Kenjirou.” You lean forward and catch him unsuspecting as you capture his lips in a long kiss. “I really appreciate it, y’know.” You mumble against his mouth, to which he simply hums at, hands tugging at your waist.
Not fighting it, you slide into his lap, lips not leaving his as the kiss deepens and lengthens. Not necessarily the direction you’d assume he would go, but it is definitely a much-appreciated break.
Afterwards, you had expected for him to suggest getting back to work, maybe after one or two more kisses. What you weren’t expecting is for him to suggest: “How will I know that you understand if I don’t test you?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “All this just to avoid biochemistry?”
Shirabu cocks his brows at your avoidance of his offer. You sigh and begrudgingly agree with his logic.
“Fine, but you’re not allowed to tease me if I get some wrong. This topic is kicking my ass.”
“You should do fine so long as you listened to half of what I said.” Shirabu simply responds.
The knot of unease didn’t alleviate at the words of encouragement. Still, you brush your thumb over his knuckles in thanks.
Putting on a brave face, you boast unearned confidence in your newfound knowledge, “Give me your best questions and I’ll ace each one.”
“Love the enthusiasm,” Shirabu says, “Now come lay across my lap.”
You level him a long look, but he just stares right back at you, no sign of mischief present. Narrowing your eyes at him, you glance down at your notes, not taking them in at all, before moving.
As you stretch over his lap, you become acutely aware of your skirt riding up and the stretch of your underwear around intimate areas.
A small grin makes its way across his face as Shirabu guides you into position over his lap, to which you startle and start to fidget. As he folds your skirt up and gives you a gentle tap to your perky ass, immediately halting any and all movement on your end.
He leans down and whispers into your ear, “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” Came the immediate answer, anticipation now racing through you.
Kenjirou watches you shift in place, gaze lingering on the way you clench your bare thighs together, and immediately decides that he didn’t at all mind the sudden deviation in his schedule. A detour into anatomy wouldn’t be a bad one.
You gasp at the sensation of him snapping the band of your underwear, and he smirks down at your lidded eyes, not looking at all affronted. Shirabu had his suspicions from previous sexual interactions, but it’s always nice to be proven correct.
“For every incorrect answer, you’ll get a spank.”
A very unorthodox study aid, yet you can’t summon a single contesting word as his fingers draw nonsensical patterns into your skin.
Summoning every ounce of composure you possess; you ignore your thundering heartbeat raging in your ears and keep your voice even as you question him, “And if I’m correct?”
“Well isn’t someone confident in their abilities that they just learnt,” Kenjirou snickers as you whine at him. “Fine, you get a kiss for every one and if you answer over half of them correct, we’ll take a longer break.”
Finding the conditions more than agreeable, if a little foreboding in the sense that this is the first time Shirabu has instigated something of this nature. It was new and exciting, and your eyes blaze at the challenge.
“Okay.”
After hours of cramming at home, only to do the same at Kenjirou’s… You more than deserved to give your poor brain a break, especially one that may lead too little to no clothes on either of your bodies.
Kenjirou drags over your textbook, flipping to a new set of questions and starts quizzing you. You proceed to get the first two correct, Shirabu was obviously going easy and assessing where exactly you’re struggling. With each right answer, he leans down and delivers a peck to the cheek, much to your hopefully well-hidden dismay.
The next four questions however… To say that your answers were shockingly wrong was an understatement.
The first smack take you by surprise, yelping as his palm contacts your ass. The loud slap of skin-on-skin sounded much worse than the fleeting sting of pain.
“Are you alright?” He asks, concern ringing clear.
You shiver at the feel of his fingers stroking the newly irritated skin. Unable to find the words, you settle on a nod.
“Next one, please.”
You both ignore the shaking of your voice and dive back into it. His slaps get harder with each consecutive incorrect response, staining soft cheeks a rough pink that had his own blood thrumming beneath the surface.
Nimble digits glide down the expanse of your spine between smacks, a quiet and tender apology. One that you didn’t demand nor want.
Okay, maybe this wasn’t the most effective study aid, but you are honestly too turned on to care at this point. It was hard to tell the same thoughts were going through Shirabu’s mind as he hums in contemplation as you give yet another incorrect response.
“Um, is it ‘A’?”
A tut, followed by the ring of skin hitting skin. You swallow thickly and clench your thighs together harder, failing to alleviate the pressure building high between them.
Irritation at yourself further trips you up, as much as the thought of Shirabu disciplining you turned you on, another kink becoming obvious under Shirabu’s skilled ministrations, you hated appearing stupid in front of anyone, much less the person you love.
Worst yet, every shift causes your panties to move. The fabric becomes unforgiving in the way it harshly rubs against sensitive flesh, setting the nerves alight.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re doing this on purpose.” He goads after yet another blaringly wrong response.
Kenjirou is fully aware of how frustrated you were becoming at both the questions and his smacks, which were slowly migrating south, covering your cheeks with an even spread of hits, making sure not to focus them in one particular area.
“I’m trying my best.” You murmur, unable to hide the thread of defeat slowly strangling your ego.
“Do you want to continue?” You try not to shudder at the tenderness of his words, a direct contrast to the smarting pain of your ass.
“Yes, let’s finish the set.” You say resolutely.
Shirabu hesitates for a moment longer before reading out another question that for the life of you made no sense. Scrambling, you choke out a reply and earn another smack for it.
The cycle from before starts anew.
While you couldn’t see it, you could feel the wetness gathering between your legs with each delivered hit. Futilely, you try to hide how turned on you are from Shirabu by clenching your thighs together as the smacks travel further and further down your ass, until you could feel the vibrations of each hit in the crest of your legs.
Another downwards stroke, this time without the accompanying question as punishment for not giving an answer. The resounding sound of flesh hitting flesh and the accompanying burn – that is all your world boiled down to. Shirabu’s voice devolving into a deep, shapeless croon as he asks another question that your spinning head couldn’t comprehend.
“Huh?”
Kenjirou finds that the shade your poor abused cheeks become compliment the dazed expression on your face.
“It’s almost like you want to be spanked,” Shirabu hums out loud after delivering the final smack, “but that can’t be right. Surely you didn’t get this dirty-minded while I was working. Or maybe…“ He leads off, tone dipping low. The building anticipation turns to dread at his next words.
“Maybe you’ve been a filthy girl this the entire time, hiding it from me. Which one is it?”
You shiver at the implications of selecting one answer over the other. There’s no clear winner, either way you’d confess that you have undisclosed kink. Shirabu bites back a laugh at your telling silence.
Fed-up with your squirming and breathless gasps, Kenjirou closes the book with a sigh, disappointed that you couldn’t last a little longer – you were far too excited to continue with the game. From the small gap you presented as you parted your legs, he could see that your panties are soaked.
“That’ll be enough. I think a short break is deserved.” Shirabu brushing his fingertips lightly over the pink marks, contemplating getting you an icepack from the fridge to help soothe the pain before you speak up.
“But I didn’t get the questions right.” You rebuke, and immediately shut your mouth with an audible clack, wanting nothing more than to eat your own words.
Maybe your masochistic streak is wider than you previously assumed…
For Kenjirou, though, your words were like a lit match to gasoline. Desire ravages any remanent plans of memorising viral interference with cellular metabolism.
“True,” he concedes, hands tightening on your waist, “But how could I possibly resist a squirming lapful of you, bunny? It’d be cruel to leave you like this.”
You open your mouth to ask: “Like what?” – until the feel of him tracing the seam of your panties kills the words dead.
“You really enjoyed that, huh?” He asks rhetorically, voice teasing.
“Kind of hard not to enjoy it,” You reply honestly, shifting in his lap as his fingers circle the growing wet patch, spreading your legs wider for him.
He roughly presses the soaked fabric into the dip, earning a whimper as your nails bite into the palm of your hand as you squeeze them into tight fists.
“Let me reward you for your diligent studying.” His digits sneak under the thin fabric and slide through your slit, finding it more slick than your panties showed.
Gathering up the wetness, he ignores your entrance in favour for delicately pressing against the clit and rubbing short circles against it. You whine out his name, hips bucking up into his touch.
“So noisy.” He admonishes, the cold touch of his other hand against the heated globes of your ass causing you to jolt forward with another small whine.
He slowly strokes between the folds with one hand for a few moments as the other one comes up and grips your face, tight enough so you couldn’t talk, yet not enough to cross into painful territory.
A soft groan sounds out as his fingers eventually leave, only for them to tear the panties down your legs and shove them into your ajar mouth. You could taste the essence of your arousal on the damp fabric. Apprehension should have been the fore-thought, yet it only served to turn you on more.
Not expecting the slap that comes next, it startles a high noise from you that has Shirabu chuckling. Heat rushes into your cheeks, an unbearable temperature matching the heat from friction on your ass. The last two strokes he metes out smack over your bare pussy.
You forget to how to breathe. It didn’t help that Shirabu’s hand comes up and brushes the hair from your face, a caring gesture warning you to hold onto for the next part. He is not going to hold back.
Shirabu’s built frame, cords of muscle stretching taunt beneath smooth ivory skin screaming unleashed power as he gets into place behind your figure. Patiently waiting for him, on your knees with your elbows bracing the weight, bare ass up in the air. While half the fun was being able to see the cute expressions you make while he fucks you, he doubts the regular position would be all that comfortable with your glowing ass cheeks.
“Hips up.” He instructs, sliding you off his lap and helping you move into a better position on the floor. “This should help alleviate some of the pressure.”
Considerate, you think to yourself, keeping your mind distracted from the tug of irritated skin as you stretch your back into an arching position, leaking hole on full display. By the time he presses a finger into you, you were already shaking.
Already so wet, a squelching noise sounds as he dips inside. From the erection you could feel before, splayed across his lap, it didn’t strike you as odd when he quickly – methodically – spreads you open. Kenjirou commits each sweet sound to memory as he strokes areas he knows make your toes curl.
The sound of blood rushing fills your ears as he pulls his fingers away and lines up. Cockhead temptingly resting against your entrance, his hands leaving his cock to carefully frame your rosy ass cheeks and pushing them up so he can watch his cock be engulfed by your pussy.
Shirabu, ever the genial gentlemen, caves in with your squirming and finally rolls his hips and smoothly enters you in one stroke. He could play cool all he wanted but judging from the pink irritated colour the tip and how fiercely his cock throbs nestled between your walls. It’s enough to portray his subtle excitement to you.
You groan around the fabric, eyes squeezing shut and try your best to not tense up. The stretch is so much better, fuller and more addictive, than his fingers. Not that he couldn’t work miracles with just those devilish digits when he wanted to reduce you to a begging mess of tears.
Beginning to truly relax around him, your eyes remained focused on the small black stain on the carpet as you give a nod, a go-ahead.
Damn. You never would’ve guessed for this to feel so good, so breath-taking.
It shouldn’t have felt good, for him to fucking you rough enough for the slap of his hips against yours, the position allowing your sensitive ass to absorb some of the impact. The sound of Shirabu’s cursing with every constriction of your walls from the doubled ache of your lower body has you all the more riled up.
During the foreplay you were already incredibly close. Now is a game of how long you could hold out for.
“Kenjirou,” The whine was greatly muffled, barely coherent.
A breathless chuckle. “So cute when you’re needy like this.”
To accentuate his point, he grinds against your ass once fully seated, eliciting a lewd wet sound that has your internal temperature sky-rocketing.
“I hope you don’t give all your tutors a happy ending.”
You frantically shake your head, all while canting your hips, hoping and near sobbing when his dick hits between the folds in your walls.
“I doubt they’d even know how to handle you,” Shirabu muses aloud, trailing a finger up your spine and entangling his fist in your hair. Using the grip, he moves your head to the side, forcing you to showcase your obscene expressions to him. “Just like me, you’d have them all thinking that you’re this prim and proper girl and yet…”
A vicious smirk grows on his lips as your face screws up lewdly, looking reminiscent of his late-night fantasies of fucking you over his TA desk – one he hopes to fulfill one day. For now, he’ll focus on fucking you good enough that you can’t look at the living room without remembering this.
In the meanwhile, his hips don’t stutter for a moment, continuing to drill into you. The burn of your knees as his thrusts drag you to-and-fro on the carpet is second to the pleasure consuming you.
“They have no idea how dirty you are.” The richness of his voice has you shivering in his grasp. “It’s fine, though, I’ll take care of every little dirty dream you have.”
Like the spoken word of a god, Shirabu would make true on that. Something for you to look forward to.
Honestly, from the amassing heat coiling tight in your abdomen, it wouldn’t take much more for you to collapse. The friction alone from the drag of his cock – so deep inside that it had to be close to your cervix – is enough for your eyes to roll back.
Your knees shouted for relief, but the scream of release overpowered it. You didn’t dare to move your hands to play with your clit, not when they were the only thing keeping you from face-planting on the floor and getting carpet burn on your face. The desperate whimpers you make come out garbled around the spit-soaked fabric.
“Sometimes I want to stay like this, buried inside you.”
You moan, bearing down on him at the sudden confession, painting an all too enticing picture. Shirabu grins at how easy you were to read, regardless of being balls-deep inside your warmth.
You could practically see the smirk on his face as he says, “You like that idea, huh? Being my personal cock sleeve.”
The bolts of pure electricity racing up your spine conceal the dull throbbing pain of your ass and knees, a numbing sensation seizing your limbs even though Shirabu’s eyes don’t leave the bouncing globes as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Distantly, you feel him sink his teeth into the meat of you shoulder, hard enough to sting even floating amongst the post-orgasmic high, as he pumps you full.
Head feeling blissfully hazy, the endorphin drop is cushioned by Shirabu soothingly stroking your back, patiently waiting for you to recover.
“How are you feeling?”
You turn your head to meet his worried eyes, giving him a soft smile to assuage some of those fears.
“I’m okay.” You sigh as you stretch out your legs, feeling cramped from kneeling for so long, and hiding your grimace from Shirabu at the pulsing ache from your knees. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better after a shower, though.”
Shirabu chuckles at your mumbling, kissing you on the cheek. You bite back a whine as he pulls out, disliking the empty feeling that remains. Shirabu hovers behind you and you can feel his stare burn into your skin as his eyes trace the fluids lazily leaking out of you. Shuddering, you inwardly bemoan that you’d never grow accustomed to the sensation.
Knowing he had a short time limit between you being complacent to uncomfortable with the mess, Shirabu hops up to grab a towel. He knew from the faint residual tremor in your legs that a shower wasn’t in the cards right now.
Back with a damp cloth, he gently shifts you up into a seating position leaning against his chest, and winces as you hiss at the pull of muscles. He makes quick work of wiping you down with almost-clinical swipes.
“Can we just lay down for a bit?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper. It sounds rough around the edges, like you had been screaming for the past hour and you hope for the sake of the apartment floor that you didn’t.
Shirabu tenderly brushes the hair away from your face and nods. “Of course.”
For a while, the you two laid together on the carpeted floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, with Shirabu gently messaging the tender globes, apologetic for the future pain of sitting.
After one long shower, you were exhausted but oddly clear minded you approached the question set with a new vigour. An hour later you found yourself cheering out loud and hugging an unimpressed Kenjirou over getting full marks.
“I told you that you had it in the bag.”
“Your faith in me is astounding.” You bump your shoulder to his and smile brightly when he stares back at you, mildly irked. “It’s because I have such a good tutor that I passed it with flying colours.” You add coyly.
He caves under your sunny attitude, lips quirking upwards and a hand comes up to ruffle your hair. “You need more faith in yourself. If you need more help, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
A shiver traces up your spine at the dip in his tone, the connotations laid thick and hard to ignore.
Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified
Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!
Ushijima:
On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest
After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity
It didn’t take much else to convince him to go
It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along
After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes
He invites you seemingly out of the blue
You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago
The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless
After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way
This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you
After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.
You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek
You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”
You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over
After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again
The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try
The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy
The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln
Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out
You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes
He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady
With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.
“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”
Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”
She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”
On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.
The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.
“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”
She disappears before either of you can correct her.
You blurt out, "Is this a date?"
A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."
A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.
When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.
After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.
Tendou:
For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date
The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe
It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure
Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend
He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage
You didn’t fare much better, either
The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up
Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out
As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips
Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore
After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand
Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop
“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.
Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”
“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”
Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.
“What?”
“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.
“I enjoy this too.”
A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.
“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”
You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”
Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”
The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.
Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.
It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.
Semi:
Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month
Nope.
He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask
When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic
Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little
When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him
Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for
After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself
In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons
It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up
It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind
Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together
The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week
The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over
After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often
As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement
Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together
From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory
You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them
All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.
When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place
You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre
But life had other plans
The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.
It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.
“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.
“That’s what I want to do one day.”
You turn to him. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.
“Why?”
Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.
Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”
Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”
Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”
Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”
The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.
After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.
Yamagata:
Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all
After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day
Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out
Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method
Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed
Amusement park it is
He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid
Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment
Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing
The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket
Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it
After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness
You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering
At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled
“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.
You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”
And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.
“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.
Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.
“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”
You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.
“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”
Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”
This time you do laugh.
“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.
He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.
And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.
You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.
Reon:
For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening
He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection
So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens
Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon
Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day
Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid
It was entirely too cute for your poor heart
“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”
You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event
If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen
Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace
You did not want to give this up
It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.
“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.
From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.
Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“
You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”
The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”
“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.
“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”
“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.
Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”
Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.
“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.
Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.
“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.
“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”
Shirabu:
This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are
And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you
You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded
Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"
"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."
"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.
“Gladly.”
Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”
“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.
Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”
You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.
Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset
Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals
There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it
As such, he went all out
Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time
Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers
Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him
A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”
What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them
White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing
As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything
The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”
Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover
From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought
The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families
Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo
Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable
It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in
As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze
Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky
The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall
Kawanishi:
Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards
He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”
The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.
It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date
Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it
Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair
Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh
Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest
Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens
It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you
By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating
Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love
Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film
You avidly listen without a word of complaint
It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship
He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park
Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.
You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”
Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”
“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.
Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”
You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.
“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”
Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.
“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”
Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.
You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.
“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.
Goshiki:
Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it
Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option
It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you
When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept
Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist
Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on
After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise
At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game
With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed
Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego
The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up
He glows as you praise his skill
It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at
You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets
With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you
Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him
With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them
A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.
It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.
His eyes grow wide. “Really?”
“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?
You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”
You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.
“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”
The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.
“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.
“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.
You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”
Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.
Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.
Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.
