Bakugo treads into his home, heavy eyes and heavier feet. He drops his bag by the door and continues his way farther into the house, wanting nothing more than to see you right now.
You had guessed he would be worn out from today's mission, having watched the entire thing while it was streamed live. You saw how hard and long he fought, how many lives he saved.
Which is why you were planning on pampering him tonight.
Well, that was the original plan but your husband always seemed to flip the switch.
That’s how you ended up in the bath with him, your back to his chest.
The warm water caressed you both, tiny suds of soap clinging to your tender skin. Bakugo gently runs his hands down your sides, pressing a light kiss to the bare of your back.
You listen as the water drains from the tub, now dressed in a soft white robe. You smear a face mask over his cheeks and forehead, listening as he tells you about his earlier mission.
“... and dumbass denki shocked me with his quirk!” he yelled, making sure to not move his head too much.
“you know he didn’t mean it ‘suki.”
He hummed as a reply, letting his hands settle on your waist as you stood over him. Concentration took over your features, your hands working to cover his skin with product.
“so when does this stuff dry?”
“in about fifteen minutes,” you answered, grabbing your hairbrush from the marble counter.
You started brushing through his blond locks, trying to be gentle when coming across knot. His breathing slowed as your fingers worked wonders through his hair.
“i love you.”
“’love you more katsuki.”
Bakugo didn’t like to be taken care of, he didn’t like being vulnerable. But he wouldn’t mind being pampered every once in a while, if it was with you.
⤻ summary ; In which loving someone means that you’d do anything for them—even if it hurt you to do so.
⤻ word count ; 1.2k
⤻ genre ; angst
⤻ warnings ; one swear word and its the very last word of the story, manga spoilers, mentions of bullying + suicide
⤻ pronouns ; none mentioned
⤻ a/n ; this is just plain word vomit to be honest
ও enjoy <3
“I love you,” you whispered to nothing at all.
You imagined him sitting in front of you, holding your hands in his. His face turned away in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed with pink coloring. He’d be making that one face he always made, when he was embarrassed and shy but wouldn’t want to admit it.
The smirk and teasing expresssion would be gone from his face and he’d be real and shy and so much him than the show he put on for others.
That was the part of him that you loved most. When he was really, truly him. He would appear to those who could see him as a teasing, slightly annoying, little brat. But you knew him for so much more than that.
He’d been through so much, been trapped and preserved in a state of being that only brought him torture. Because he could never truly be human any longer. He was a ghost. An apparition. Forced to roam the halls of the school in which he’d once attended himself. He wasn’t alive. One couldn’t even be a hundred percent sure he was even real—if he even existed. Was he just a figment that appeared to those who were so close to death that they’d begun to hallucinate?
That was something you had asked yourself for days after your first encounter with him. Was he real? You thought you were going crazy, driven mad by the bullying you had to endure from your classmates. A theory of yours had been that he wasn’t really there. That the apparitions didn’t actually exist as beings. They were your imagination, a way for you to cope after the nonstop hurtful words thrown your way day after day. After all, he and the bunny like creatures had brought you company, a safe haven. But that all changed when you realized that little by little, he was saving you. Picking up your broken pieces and tying them together. He was real. He had to be. Because your emotions and feelings for him definitely were.
And if it was all fake? Then that was a cruel trick that you’d played on yourself.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was all real. And so, you’d fallen in love with the friendly ghost who had picked up your broken pieces and put them back together again, one piece at a time.
He’d begun to heal the parts of you that had been broken by those you called friends. And you owed your very life to him. He was a miracle, your miracle. And you didn’t have to share him because well, nobody else could see him. He was like a secret, but a good secret. A secret that was kept because you wanted him all to you. And he didn’t mind at all.
Remarkably, the most miracle part about him wasn’t the fact that he’d mended what you thought unmendable. It was the fact that although he wasn’t alive, he made others feel alive. He brought a ray of sunshine and happiness with him everywhere, carrying hope and love as if they were tangible objects that could be passed on like notes.
And he gave you the most notes. With him, your days were bright and you could forget those that had made you break. You were always so full and filled to the brim with love around him that sometimes you joked that it was too much. But it was only ever a joke, because it was never too much. It could never be. You loved him for doing that. For making you feel that way.
He was your soulmate. Your other half. That was the conclusion you had reached while being with him. You could never live without him. Which is why you were sitting on the school roof.
Because he was . . . gone.
He’d shattered into a million pieces in your very own hands. And you couldn’t put him back together again. You couldn’t do the impossible and do what he’d done to you. He was like your heart. Shattered like glass. This time truly impossible to mend.
You stared out at the city, the lights twinkling on like stars as the sun began to set. It seemed unfair. Unfair that the whole world could move on so easily now that he was gone. Truly, really gone. No longer was he in that state of being where he could roam around and pretend to be alive. No longer did he simply exist. He was gone. Reduced to nothing but fragments of himself that had been blown away by the wind.
As the moon began to rise you glared at it, pain searing hot and fast in your chest. The moon, the object that he had loved so much carried on without him. It carried on and rose above everyone and everything, not caring that he was gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
The word echoed in your head a million times, each time the word holding more weight over you.
You inched your body forward. You could fall off the roof and nobody would know what you had done. It be deemed an accident and all your torture would be erased just like that. You’d be able to join him and be happy for an eternity to come.
It would be so easy. You slid forward another inch. So effortless. Another inch. You could do it. Inch. There was nothing holding you back. Inch. He was the only one you cared for. Inch. Why should you stay?
You stopped moving. You were barely able to hold onto the ledge and keep yourself from falling to your death.
Why should you I stay? you asked yourself.
Because you promised.
You pulled yourself off the ledge and collapsed into sobs. Cleansing, body shaking sobs. Your anguish rolled off you in waves and it seemed as if the whole world suddenly knew your pain. The moon was smaller, the stars slightly less bright than they should be, the world frozen as it felt all your pain and emotion from the years.
The breaking of your heart and soul.
And then the repair of them both, by a single ghost.
Then the breaking of them once again.
You had promised him that you’d live. That you’d fight for yourself and do something with your life. Give yourself an opportunity at something great. Do something that he could never do. Grow up.
The two words alone rocked your world. They threw you off balance, gave you so much confusion that you gathered a headache every time they were mentioned.
Grow up.
Who knew that two words could have such an impact?
You didn’t want to, of course. You wanted to freeze yourself. You wanted to join him in whatever state of being he was in. But every time you thought you could do the deed, every time you thought you would be able to finally join him, his last words kept coming back to you.
“Grow up, Y/N,” he’d murmured in your ear. And then he had shattered to pieces.
You stopped crying and lay down flat on your back, facing up to the sky. The sky that he’d loved so much.
“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll grow up. For you, Hanako, Yugi Amane.”
You didn’t want to. But you did. Because you loved him. And when you love someone, it makes you do some pretty crazy shit.
no bc western au where kenny’s aiding ur father in some less than polite business and he’s staying in ur barn and ur in charge of bringing his meals and he’s always calling u ‘doll’ or ‘pretty thing’ and when ur father and mother leave for town one day he assures them nothing will happen to their sweet daughter…. that is until he’s got you bent over in the barn calling you a dirty bitch
• pairing : kenny ackerman x female bodied reader
• word count : 1.7K
• content warnings : western au, slight age gap (reader is in their early 20's and kenny in late 30's), swearing, unestablished relationship, exhibitionism, choking, degradation
• a note from jennie : nonnie, I absolutely adore your mind for this! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა
𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐏
Your jaw was clenched tightly as you carefully balance the teacups and teapot on the tray, threading back towards the living room where your father sat — right across the man you've only heard stories about.
The infamous Kenny Ackerman.
Why he decided your ranch you had no idea, but all that you knew is that you wanted him gone. From what you've heard he only appeared whenever people were in trouble, and you hoped with every last fiber in your body that it wasn't the case for your father or your home.
As you pad closer the men's voices simmer down to silence, your father looking up as your figure closes in on them. There's a smile plastered across his lips but it doesn't reach his eyes like it usually does. As you set the tray of freshly made coffee and tea down on the coffee table your eyes slide from your father to the man lounging in the chair across from him, far too comfortable where he was sitting.
He was reclined backwards, a onyx black cowboy hat sitting skew on his head, his long cream trenchcoat splayed across his jean clad legs. Your eyes briefly graze over his studded silver belt, the emblem engraved on the metal before they hover over the bulge in his pants.
You couldn't deny that he wasn't an attractive man. Though there's the slightest line of a stubble across his face, his eyes the color of almonds that remain light, somewhat teasing. His hands are lean, long digits that are adorned with veins and hardened knuckles. You wondered how they would feel on your —
Stop it.
Your cheeks warm when your gaze slides upwards, meeting his own that seems to be watching you with half amusement and something else that you couldn't place the tip of your finger on.
"Thank you, sweetheart," your father thanks, ripping you from your daze and you blink at him when you straighten, hovering near the coffee table.
"You're lucky you've got such a sweet daughter," Kenny hums as he leans forward, resting his arms on the top of his thighs, his eyes trailing over the way your jeans hugged your legs, taking in the light white of your summer blouse. "Must make the work around here a lot easier, huh?"
Your father chuckles lightly. "She really is something else," he praises, unknowingly feeding you right into Kenny's hands. "She'll be the one helping out during your stay, Kenny. If you need anything, she's your girl."
You try not to let the surprise plague your face at the mention of Kenny staying over at the barn. But of course you couldn't say anything, especially not when you knew that the ranch was in financial trouble. Kenny was the last resort your father turned to, you knew this.
So all you could do was suck it up and let him stay. As much as it pained you.
You were tasked with bringing him breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, trudging all the way from the house to the barn where he resided. Your father had kindly asked you to simply let him work on the restoration of it, and help out if you were needed, just like the good girl you were taught to be. From snippets of conversations you’ve heard around the ranch he was supposed to help restore some of the barns and gates that were left under managed and broken - just in case your father did have no choice but to sell the ranch.
It's chillier than usual this morning as you push the wire screen door open, your leather boots crunching against the blades of grass under your feet as you balance the steaming tray in your hands. He didn’t seem tot be a picky eater so you piled up everything from the breakfast table and onto the plate for him to eat. Sunlight grazes over the wooden structure that stands like a giant in the distance, filtering through the various cracks that needed to be fixed, just like it did every season.
“You’re up early, doll,” comes the gruff voice from the hayloft, forcing your focus up towards where he’s sprawled out on one of the hay bales. Your brows furrow, stopping in the doorway before your hands tighten around the wood painted tray your holding.
“Here’s breakfast, you old man.”
Kenny chuckles, mirth dancing across his features at the hostility that seems to lace your tone, especially more so whenever you were speaking to him. With ease the slips down the ladder, his boots causing a cloud of dust to puff around his boots as a dull thud echoes through the barn. “No good morning, or how are you today, Mr. Ackerman?” he muses.
You resist the urge to step back when he slides closer, curiously eyeing the array of food set out for him. Biting down the snarky reply you have in store for him you instead thrust the tray out to him with a clenched jaw, your expression remaining stoic.
Yet the smirk that adorns his lips never leaves, remaining there as his calloused hands, ones hardened from his years of work, cup yours, purposely letting them stay there for what was longer than necessary before he takes the tray from you. “It’s alright, I understand. A sweet thing like yourself’s gonna take some time to warm up to an old geezer like me.” He winks, but the light expression he wears contrasts the way his voice drops to a tone much lower than you’ve heard him speak with. “It’s pointless to keep hating me, sweetheart, I saw the way ya were ogling me the other day. I’ve got a lot of experience under my belt, don’t think I’m stupid.”
You grind your teeth together, retracting your hands back to your chest with a little more force than what you needed. “I hate you,” you spit before you spin on your heels and trek back to the house with a fuming face.
I hate you.
It dances right on your tongue in this moment, but you can’t find it in yourself to let it roll off your tongue. Instead pathetic little mewls spill from your lips, muffled inn one of Kenny’s hands that’s clamped tightly over your mouth. How could you when he was making you feel this good?
“Funny how that mouth of yours has gone all quiet now, huh?” he raps right against the shell of your ear, his other arm firmly planted around your waist. When he leans in closer, pushing his chest against your back he nudges his cock impossibly deeper, your toes curling. “Yeah, that's what I thought. You never hated me, sweetheart, just wanted my cock to stuff this pretty little cunt of yours.”
You can’t speak, you wouldn’t trust your voice to remain stable enough to do so. The chuckle that rumbles in Kenny’s chest is low, humming against your skin as he bends you even further over one of the hay bales. It scratches at your skin, but it’s the last thing you’re worried about in this moment. He’s got you far too drunk on his cock to even care.
Every snap of his hips drives his fat cock even deeper inside your sopping cunt that only seems to drool with every thrust - your slick staining his fingers is only proof of how good he was fucking you. There’s the slightest tremble to your legs as his balls, heavy and thick pat pat pat against the sensitive skin of your folds, your sweet and saccharine moans going forgotten into the morning air. All that you were supposed to do is bring him breakfast, just like you had done countless mornings before. Now he’s got you bent over and threatening to crumble as your orgasm nears.
“Such a dirty little bitch,” he grits out when your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock far tighter than before. Kenny was far girthier than any of the boys you’ve fooled around with and he made sure to fuck that thought into you. “Wonder how your father would feel if he saw his precious little girl bent over like a little slut.”
With ease he tugs you up by your hair until his chest is pressed to your back, your hands splayed out against the hay, feebly grasping it to keep yourself upright. One of Kenny’s slender hands wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides just enough to let your spit coated lips part in a sharp gasp, the other giving your bra a harsh tug downwards so he could grope your breasts, pinching your nipples just to hear you squeak.
“You should feel shameful for letting a dirty old man like me fuck you,” he chuckles against the skin of your neck, getting a glimpse of the furrow of pleasure between your brows, the way you made the cutest sounds - all just for him. “Do you feel shameful, doll?”
You open your mouth to speak, to give him a response but instead two thick fingers plunge past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, venturing deeper and deeper until he heard you gag. He scoffs, pulling them out before smearing some of your spit on your cheek. “Dirty fucking girl, aren’t you?” he chides with a sharp and disappointed tone, his words making you whimper. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep that mouth of yours nice and busy while your parents are away. Give you something to choke on so you’ll stop talkin’ back to me.”
“Ngh, I can’t-” you splutter when he drives his hips forward with a brutal pace, his cock nudging nearly at your cervix everything he thrusts into you, the copious amount of slick dripping from your cunt making it all too easy for him. “W-Wait..”
“What?” Kenny demands, sounding as if he’s bored, but his breaths come at as labored pants from the effort he was fucking you with. He tugs your head back until it rests against his shoulder, his hand still snug around it. “Speak up you slut.”
“I’m gonna c-cum... I’m - fuck - I’m close..” your bottom lip trembles, voice airy and soft, far too gone to think about anything else other than how good it feels to have his girth stretching you out, and how welcoming the heat in your tummy feels as it continues to build.
“And?” he chuckles darkly, nosing against your jawline. His stubble tickles the skin there, making you grow small under his rough hands and punishing pace that never ceases. “Maybe if you cum on my cock like a good whore should I’ll give your panties back when I’m done with you.”
a/n: IDK LIKE I'VE ONLY BEEN ABLE TO WRITE ANGST THESE FEW DAYS LIKE WHAT EVEN 😭 also inspired by ed sheeran's photograph hence the title
prompt: loving can hurt sometimes.
characters: oikawa tooru
warning: angst to comfort, timeskip spoilers
"So this is it?"
Oikawa's eyes glimmer with the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He surveys your face, a mirror of his own. The logical reply is to affirm that this is, indeed, the last time you will see each other. Despite the words already on the tip of his tongue, he doesn't bring himself to say it.
He can't bring himself to say it.
Instead he pulls a thin sheet of polaroid film tucked away in the folds of his jacket, fingers shaking as he passes it to you. "Remember that road trip with Iwa, Mattsun and Makki?" He laughs, devoid of mirth. "Dancing under the stars?"
You stare at the picture, a bullet shattering the last shield to your defenses. "Yeah," you whisper, mustering the little energy you had left. "The first time you told me you loved me."
The photograph passes from him to you. The memories flash in your head: raucous sing-alongs to songs on the car radio, dim blaze of the makeshift campfire, gentle feel of Oikawa's lips on yours.
"This isn't goodbye."
"Oh, Tooru." You giggle, despite it all. "When will you learn that you can't have everything? No matter how hard you try."
"I can," he insists stubbornly, gripping the handle of his suitcase with burning fervor. "Argentina's just five years, ten—"
"And who's to say that we won't fall out of love then? I won't fall out of love then?"
The remark is a knife piercing Oikawa's already bleeding heart. It hurts you just as much as it has wounded him, but you knew that it needed to be said. He has to learn to let go.
Oikawa glances down at the watch on his wrist—a gift from you on your first anniversary. He remembers why you decided to buy it for him. Your laugh, ringing through the air as you remarked: "So you can't weasel your way out of being late for our dates anymore."
The hands are damning: two hours before his flight leaves. Two hours before he departs for a country miles away from everything he's ever known: his family, his friends, you.
"Thanks for taking the time to see me off at the airport," he clips, barreling away from the topic at hand. "Do stay in touch."
He turns away from you, struck by how it's too much to bear. He then makes his way towards the airport gates, when he realises he has one thing left to say. Tilting his head to face you, he smiles the smile you fell in love with as he inquires:
"Wait for me to come home."
The same six words come to mind as you hover your mouse over the option of buying tickets to the upcoming Netherlands and Argentina mens' volleyball match. Foolish, you think. He's moved on. He's forgotten. Yet you can't help but click the purchase button, and now you find yourself amidst the throngs of supporters in Tokyo National Stadium.
After all these years, Oikawa Tooru is still as radiant as ever.
He is wrapped in swathes of Argentinian blue, glowing with confidence in his skills. A shaky pass from his teammate doesn't deter the expertise of his set: he tosses it in a graceful arc towards his team's ace, who then smashes it without remorse to the Dutch side of the court.
The match continues with Argentina strengthening the lead, enabling them to win three to none. All throughout, Oikawa dazzles. You expect no less from the boy you loved. The boy you love.
Before heading for the train back home to Miyagi, you dare yourself to take a peek at the boisterous celebrations on court. Oikawa is hoisted on to a teammate's shoulder as they crack open bottles of champagne, yelling out exclamations of joy in a language foreign to your ears. By chance, Oikawa's eyes meet yours, and it is like you're back at the starry night so many years ago, swaying in his arms.
He climbs down from his raised pedestal, rushing in hasty steps to make his way to you. As he envelops you in a hug, you are unable to discern between the longing and exhilaration rushing in your veins, so you giggle. Despite it all.
A/n: I’m supposed to be writing four other things but I choose to write this🧍♀️I really hope Samu wasn’t too OOC as this is my first time writing for him!
WC: 297
TW/CW: mentions of food, fluffy fluff :3
Rolling around in bed, you groaned, feeling that the space next to you in the bed was empty. ‘Where’d he go?’ you thought, worried that your husband had left to go somewhere without telling you. Slightly panicking, you quickly got out of bed, heading to kitchen, since you’d figured that’s the first place he’d be. As you trudged downstairs, you could hear sizzling and a light, but growing, smell of gyoza.
Turning the corner to see Osamu, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Walking towards him, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face into his back. Feeling your arms around him, he stiffened but then quickly relaxed, realizing it was only you.
“Doll, aren’t ya supposed ta be sleeping?” he asked, lightly chuckling.
“Mmm I missed you Samu.” Rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the kitchen clock, which read 2:33 AM. “Why are you up so early?”
“‘A got hungry and couldn’t sleep.”
“Mmm now I want some too~ Smells delicious!”
“‘Course ya can have some doll, just got ta finish ‘em.”
A while later, when you guys had finished your gyoza, you proposed dancing in the kitchen as a sort of way to help relax after your meal. Pulling out your phone, you put on your classical music playlist and set your phone down on the counter, wrapping your arms around Osamu’s neck, burying your face into his chest (quick a/n: THE PECS MAN😩) and he grabbed your waist, pulling you as close to him as he could.
As the two of you swayed to the gentle melodies of the piano filling the air, you realized had never felt more content or at home than you had ever than when you’re in his arms.
e/a/n: I listened to this playlist while writing it!
⤻ summary ; In which people like you and Sugawara have to run to survive. But as it would turn out, a life of running does wonders on one’s mental state.
⤻ word count ; 2.2k
⤻ genre ; angst(?) not fluff but not pure angst it just exists as it is— but lets go angst
⤻ warnings ; cursing, mentions of death, guns
⤻ pronouns ; none mentioned
⤻ a/n ; everybody say thank you marcie for this @mattsunbae
ও enjoy <3
“We can’t run forever, you know,” Sugawara said, ducking under the pipe. A drop of mysterious liquid fell on his leg and he shuddered in disgust, hurriedly moving to rub the liquid off.
“I know that, Suga. You don’t think I don’t know that?” Faintly, in the distance behind you two, you heard shouts. Sneaking a glance back, you saw nothing but the dark expanse of tunnel that the two of you had just left. But not sure wanting to risk anything, you pushed Sugawara slightly forward, urging him to move faster.
“It’s not just that, Y/N.” Sugawara gripped the wall and threw his body onto it, forcefully making his movements stop for the time being. “It’s just, don’t you ever get sick of running? Like, yeah, if we don’t run we’ll probably get caught and die but . . .”
You groaned in frustration and grabbed a pipe opposite of him to force your own body to stop moving. “It doesn’t matter if I’m tired of running or not, Suga. You just said it yourself. If we don’t run, we’ll get caught and die.”
Unfortunately, you didn’t have as much control over yourself as Sugawara did. It took all your strength to keep your movements still—so much so that your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the pipe.
“I said ‘probably,’” he muttered. He let go of the wall and immediately started weaving through the pipes again. Separating yourself from the pipe was not as easy as it was for Sugawara. In just the few short seconds that you had been holding onto the pipe, your body had already adjusted letting go was harder than it had been to grab the pipe.
Eventually, you tore your hands off the pipe, the action making your palms red and sore. You jogged to catch up to Sugawara who was yards ahead of you already.
“Oh my bad—I forgot the ever so very important word ‘probably.’ But what does it matter anyway? You and I both know that the probably wouldn’t matter to them. They’ll catch us and kills us any way they deem fit. There’s no chance for us to survive if we’re captured.”
“So then what’s the point?” Sugawara laughed, but there was no humor or joy in the action. It was an empty sound void of any emotion.
“The point?”
“Yeah.” Sugawara spun his body around to face you. Seeing his face, your neck tickled with irrational fear. His face . . . you couldn’t describe it but there was something unsettling about it. And something unsettling about the way he could hold eye contact with you yet walk perfectly backwards, stepping over pipes and debris as if it was nothing. Not even your own body could pull off such a thing—Sugawara truly was something else.
“We’re gonna die anyway, aren’t we? We run our whole lives only for it to not result in anything and then die knowing that we’ve failed and done absolutely nothing with ourselves. Or we get captured, get experimented on, and eventually killed just because we’re different. So. What. Is. The. Point?”
“Things will change, Suga. I know they will. You just have to believe it. Besides, I’d rather die running and free than in a cage due to experiments. But right now, I don’t really feel like dying at all. Are you really going to tell me right now that you feel like giving up and laying your life down for them? After running from them your whole life?”
“That’s exactly why I feel like giving up, Y/N. Because of how long we’ve run. I feel like I’ve run my whole life . . . and to be honest with you, I probably have. It’s just so . . . exhausting. It makes me wonder why I run in the first place. It’s not like suddenly we’ll find a place where we won’t have to run. And you know that just as well as I do. So then . . . what’s the point?”
You stared at Suga. You couldn’t believe anything of what he was saying. He was being outrageous. He couldn’t possibly be serious. The exhaustion and stress was getting to him: making him crack. That had to be it.
“You’re not serious right now, right?” you asked. “Suga, the whole point of running is so that we can live. Maybe our lives aren’t the best . . . maybe they completely suck. But at least we’re alive. We’re alive and breathing. We’re running and we’re living, Suga.”
“Oh really? I wasn’t aware.” Suga continued marching backwards effortlessly while your body struggled to keep up normally.
“I can’t believe you right now. We’re alive where so many others aren’t. Suga, people like us are dead. At the hands of them and you’re telling me that you wanna just give up right now? Others like us died trying to save us—don’t you remember? They risked everything to make a safe path for us. And after all that you’re telling me that you want to give up? So then what? Those people’s sacrifices meant nothing? Their lives meant nothing? I can’t—“
“I never asked to be like this!” Sugawara cut you off, his voice cracking. His walking became erratic and sped up greatly, forcing you to start to jog to keep near to him. “I never asked to be like you—to be like them. Who would want a life like this?”
You reeled back, surprised by the emotion in his voice. Yes. He was different indeed. Most people like you couldn’t harness such tones in your words. Your energy wasn’t spent on speaking or anything of the like. All energy in your body was spent on trying and trying to get that rush . . . that high that comes from excitement and movement. Your body itched for such experiences, which meant that putting energy in anything else was almost impossible.
“This life is so horrible,” moaned Sugawara. “I can barely take it anymore—“
“Suga, calm down,” you said, fear itching up your spine at his state. He was losing it.
“I could just sit here—“
“Calm down! Suga, please,” you begged.
Sugawara’s head snapped to yours and his body froze. He was yards away from you, his body shaking so profusely that he his hair moved continuously, not stopping.
“Y/N, I—“ Sugawara cut himself off. He couldn’t see himself, see what he looked like. And frankly, he didn’t want to. At least not directly. He could imagine what he looked like based on your face. The fear, utter horror in your face that had stopped your body dead still. Sugawara knew it was serious because you were frozen in place.
You had little to no control over your body and movements. The only way you’d be completely stopped as you were could only happen from two instances. Death and paralyzing fear. In this instance, it was the latter.
“They’re up there! I see them!” a voice shouted behind you two.
Your blood ran cold and you turned around to see three people in yellow hazmat suits poking their way through the pipes and wires towards Sugawara and you.
You couldn’t do anything. Your body was still frozen from the fear of how Sugawara had just acted. They were getting closer and closer and there was nothing you could do about it. You were going to get caught. It was all going to be over. One bullet and bam. Dead. A lifetime of running and for what? Maybe Sugawara was right. Maybe it really all was for nothing.
“What are you doing?” Sugawara appeared beside you and pulled you down to the ground. You splashed in the water beside him, as he dragged you into a vent. “Do you want to die right now?”
“I think . . . you’re right,” you murmured, still unable to make your body move. You knew that you had little control over yourself but you never knew that you had this little control. In your old home you used to be the one with the most control, the role model. But being besides Sugawara you felt insignificant and rather intimidated. He had so much control—an insane amount of control. And you didnt know how he did it. But it scared the fuck out of you.
“What?” Sugawara hissed as a black boot splashed into the water beside the open vent. Sugawara froze, his gripping your arm.
“They were here!” a voice said, outraged. “I saw them!”
“They can’t have gone far,” another voice chimed in. “By the looks of them they’re young. They aren’t as strong as the others.”
A last voice, the deepest of the three, laughed. “Then this should be a peace of cake. And rather fun, might I add. The younger ones are always more lively, more confident than they should be. Makes the chase all the more fun.”
“Then let’s look around.” It was the first voice again. “They must be here close by. Look everywhere.”
They started crashing around, shoving aside crates and knocking pipes down. Sugawara didn’t know what to do. You were still frozen at the edge of the vent, just barely out of the light.
If Sugawara attempted to move further into the vent, he’d create too much noise that would draw attention to you two. He couldn’t risk that. But then what? What could he do?
Any moment one of them out there would stumble on the open vent and spot you two. Then there would be nothing else—that would be it. The two of you would be captured and taken for experiments. In only a few days time you’d be dead.
And it was his fault. Sugawara knew that it was his fault. If only he hadn’t been so stubborn with you . . . if only he’d just listened and kept going. Why did he have to give up like that?
“It’s pointless,” you murmured to yourself, your gaze blank and empty. Sugawara’s hand was still gripping your arm. He suddenly dropped it like it was a hot stone. You were freezing cold. Sugawara glanced around anxiously, desperate for some way out. You were dying, your body was failing. You’d been still for far too long. Sugawara drummed his fingers on his knee, the gears in his head working overtime.
“Wait, do you see this vent?” It was the second voice, and it was closer than Sugawara wanted it to be.
Three pairs of black boots could be seen from the opening of the vent. “Do you think they crawled through here?”
“It’s plausible.”
“But how did they fit?”
The first voice sighed, “Just check it already.”
“Fine.”
Crouching. They were crouching. Yellow padded knees filled the frame of the vent. There was no way out. With you paralyzed and in desperate need of movement, Sugawara could never escape with the both of you. Besides, even if the two of you could somehow crawl backwards, they most likely had guns. And then you’d be shot and dead in a vent, left to rot.
Sugawara preferred being captured.
As two palms splashed down and the person lowered themself even more, Sugawara was struck by a brilliant—but insane—idea. There was little chance of success, but it was worth a shot.
He shimmied himself around you, so that you were pressed against his back and he was the one in front of the vent opening.
“Do you hear that?”
“What if it’s rats,” the deepest voice mused.
“Dude, don’t say that.”
“Okay whatever just hurry up.”
When the person’s face came into view, Sugawara spared no time and kicked him in the face. They went sprawling backwards into the legs of the other two, causing all three to crash into the sewage.
“Get up!” one of them screamed.
Sugawara grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the vent. And he ran, you in tow.
“Freeze!” Sugawara turned back in time to see the barrel of a rifle pointed straight at his heart. Time seemed to slow. The trigger was pressed. The bullet raced towards him. He ducked. And it ruptured a pipe, gas filling the tunnel.
By then you had snapped out of your daze. “Suga—“
“We have to get out of here!” Sugawara exclaimed, hugging the wall and escorting you down it as your pursuers coughed despite their suits.
“We’re going to lose them!” one shouted.
You glanced back, your eyes wide with alarm. “Where will we go?”
“Anywhere we want.”
“But didn’t you want to give up?”
Sugawara didn’t answer, an uncomfortable silence hung between you two. Another gun shot rang from behind you two and again your body almost froze in fear.
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like dying in a sewer,” Sugawara finally answered.
Your wrist was still cold underneath his hand, but slowly getting warmer as you moved. The gas was almost completely behind you two now. You didn’t know why it didn’t affect you two, but it had to be because of what you were. For once, you were happy to be the way you were.
“If I carry you we can get out of here faster, what do you say?” Sugawara offered.
You stared at Sugawara’s back. He scared you, still. You didn’t think that that fear would ever leave. He acted too much like them—he had to much control. But your body needed to adapt. And you needed to get out of the sewer tunnels as soon as possible.
“Okay then,” you gave in.
Sugawara stopped and crouched. You jumped onto his back and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was warm.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He ran with you on his back. This time, he had a purpose.
⤻ summary ; In which the Bungo Stray Dogs boys get jealous
⤻ word count ; 1.3k
⤻ genre ; fluff
⤻ warnings ; cursing, lowercase intended
⤻ pronouns ; none mentioned
⤻ a/n ; thank you lovely anon for requesting this! hopefully you enjoyed it, i know i did ;3
ও enjoy <3
ও DAZAI OSAMU ;
doesnt get jealous very easily
gets jealous with only a specific type of people
never gets jealous over people he knows, or people you dont know
even if someones being touchy in public with you and you dont know them, he wont get jealous but more so pissed off because the other person is obviously making you uncomfortable
he just has a lot of faith and confidence in your relationship
plus, he knows that hed never have a reason to be jealous over kunikida or atsushi—
where he does get jealous, however is when youre close with another person that he doesnt know at all
say a childhood best friend that he had never met before who dazai could tell is just absolutely head over heels for you
and since that person would be one of your most trusted friends—well, dazai couldnt help but get jealous
“where are we going again, y/n?” dazai asked, dragging his feet as you pulled him along the sidewalk.
you grinned at him. “were going to see an old friend of mine! i havent seen them in forever and i cant wait for you to meet them!”
the two of you arrived at a restaurant and entered, sitting at a table where your best friend was waiting
“OH MY GOD” you squealed, letting go of dazais hand to embrace your friend “its so good to see you!”
“you too!” your friend stood and wrapped their arms around you “its been so long!”
dazai scrutinized your friend, as you sat down next to them, immediately jumping into a conversation and forgetting about him
“oh, and this is my boyfriend, dazai osamu!” you introduced him and dazai sat across from your friend and you
your friend looked at dazai “boyfriend, huh?”
“yep! you missed quite a lot”
“it appears i did”
see dazai didnt like that—that tone. it was so obvious that your friend liked you, that he was head over heels for you. but you being overwhelemed with just the excitement of seeing said friend didnt notice. and as the night carried on with dazai being left out of conversation and you and your friend being touchy feely with one another, dazai felt something start to grow in the pit of his stomach as he watched you two. something that made him want to pull you across the table and show that friend of yours who your boyfriend was.
dazai knew he was being somewhat irrational feeling the way he was feeling. after all, he knew that you loved him and only him. but he just couldnt help it. he was jealous.
when the three of you had finished dinner and were starting to get ready to leave, your friend stopped you. “wait, y/n i have something to tell you”
“oh? what is it? could you hurry, osamu and i have somewhere to be”
“you have somewhere to be? but its late?”
you shrugged “we work together and its a very demanding job. we only got away just barely today to see you. which was awesome! i hadnt seen you in such a long time and youre like my best friend so—anyway, what did you want to tell me?”
dazai watched as your friends face fell. he shouldnt have felt happy about that but he did. that little feeling in his stomach? well it had grown to be not so little anymore and seeing your friends hopes die gave him happiness—even if it was mean.
“you know what? i just wanted to say it was good to see you again”
“you too!” you hugged your friend then grabbed dazais hand “hopefully well see each other again soon!”
you led dazai to the exit of the restaurant and once outside you let out a sigh of relief
“y/n, but we dont have somewhere to be,” dazai said
you looked at him and place a quick kiss on his cheek “i know”
your hand slipped from his and you walked on ahead home. dazai, just watching for a minute before he practically burst out in tears and ran after you
“Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”
ও NAKAJIMA ATSUSHI ;
doesnt ever get jealous
has even more faith and trust in your relationship than dazai does
he trusts you with his whole heart, so he believes that he doesnt have anything to worry about
plus, you constantly reassure him that you love him and only him because he does have some self image issues </3 ( SAD )
so he just knows everyday that he has nothing to ever worry about when it comes to other people
which is why he never gets jealous
“atsushi?” you poked your boyfriend’s face, his hand lifting sluggishly to push your finger away.
“ugh?” he murmured, rolling over to the other side of his body
“wake up, sleepy head” you said rolling atsushi back to face you “lets go we have to get to the agency or else well be late”
atsushi lifted his head to check the time before laying back down “we can stand to be a few minutes late?”
you knew that atsushi didnt really mean that. after all, he liked to be on time but you knew that he was just drained from the night before.
the night before was actually somewhat of a wild night. the two of you had been waking peacefully along the street when someone had grabbed your arm, commenting on your looks. you politely said thank you because they were obviously drunk and they had smiled at you. they didnt look harmful, just drunk. atsushi hadnt been jealous or anything (why would he?) but he was pissed off. pissed off at that person for grabbing you like that. hed been angry the whole way home.
“atsushi, i love you” you whispered in his ear.
atsushi stirred and faced you, opening his eyes. “i love you too, y/n.”
“i know” you stuck your tongue out at him and got up “now lets go to work”
“urghsgh” he groaned
ও NAKAHARA CHUUYA ;
very easily made jealous
gets jealous at the littlest things that its literally insane
most people would probably get annoyed by that fact and wouldnt be able to stay in a relationship with him
but you really dont mind, you know he just cares about you a lot
sometimes it is a little . . . much but all in all you laugh about it with him
more like at him, since he doesnt share the same amusement but thats irrelevant
his jealousy isnt pointed at you more at other people
not that thats an excuse for his super jealousy, but its at least reassuring to know he never gets mad at you
you were getting a drink at a local coffee shop with your boyfriend, chuuya. while waiting for the coffees to be made, chuuya had decided to go to the bathroom. while he was in the bathroom, your name was called to collect your drinks
“y/n?” the person behind the counter called
you went forward to collect your drinks
as they were handing you your drinks, chuuya exited the bathroom. the first thing he saw was your hand touching the other persons hand. now he couldnt help it. he knew you probably werent doing anything on purpose . . . but damn he did not like that
“thanks” chuuya suddenly appeared next to you and yanked your hand towards him, almost causing you to spill your drinks
“chuuya!”
he eyed the person who smiled nervously. “uh, no problem”
“lets go” he dragged you out of the coffee shop, you protesting the whole way
“chuuya, stop acting like that!”
“like what?”
“like a jealous brat”
chuuya tried very hard to not get angry “what? jealous? me? absolutely not shut up”
“okay” you muttered you paused before sighing “it was kinda hot”
“really?”
“no”
chuuya glared at you and let go of you marching away from you at a fast pace
a/n: AHHH tysm for participating seph! I went a little over board cause im in love with tendou 🤧 I hope you enjoy :)
— 100 event m.list —
Tendou dragged you into the small thrift shop, hand in his own. A bell rang when you stepped foot inside the establishment, a lady greeting you at the door.
“c’mon the good stuff is this way!” he says, pointing at the far back.
You wordlessly followed behind him, smiling at how enthusiastic he was. You weren’t exactly sure why he was so excited over old and used items, but as long as he stayed looking as cheerful as he did now, you weren’t complaining.
“so what exactly are we looking for?” you asked, wondering if there was maybe a specific item he was excited for.
“y/n, people don’t go thrifting with anything in mind. they just show up and buy what they like!”
Nodding your head, you eyed the small trinkets that sat pretty up top the many shelfs. Each item told a story and if you looked hard enough, you’d find the right story for you.
Tendou tapped your shoulder, eyes searching for your own, “look at what I found.” his voice was barely above a whisper, eyes softening at you.
In his hand he held two matching rings, you guessed one was for you and the other being for him.
The small silver band gleamed brightly under the artificial light; tiny meaningless engravings littered the sides of the silver.
They told a beautiful story, one you wanted to keep and read forever.
Your breath was caught in your throat, a warm feeling running through your veins.
“are you going to propose to me in a thrift store?” he laughed, it was light and airy, and you couldn’t help but laugh alongside him.
“think of it more as a promise ring.”
“what kind of promise are you making?” you asked, leaning into his taller form. He wrapped an arm around you, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.
The light on the door blinks from red to green as you quickly slid your key card through the slot. You twist the knob as quietly as you could, slowly opening the door just enough for you to squeeze through.
You gently shut the door behind you, haphazardly tossing your shoes to the side. The lush carpet of the honeymoon suite felt luxurious beneath your feet, and you let out a relieved sigh as you turned the corner from the hallway into the bedroom.
“What are you —“
“Holy fuck,” you screamed, jumping nearly ten feet into the air and tripping on the hem of your white silk dress.
You lay a hand on your heart and another on your forehead when you realize just where the sudden voice had come from.
“Rin,” you sputtered out as you took in the image of Suna, splayed out on your bed and thoroughly wrinkling the black velvet tuxedo you remember him taking four hours to pick, “What the hell are you doing here?”
He sits up and gives you an amused look. “I was literally about to ask you the same thing.”
You crossed your arms and gave him a sharp look.
“My feet hurt,” he offers lamely, giving you a limp shrug of the shoulders.
You scoffed, looking down at your red, swollen, and blistered feet. He glanced at your shoes that were now laying on their side.
“I don’t know, maybe I just wanted a breather,” he sighed out, running a hand through and ruining his previously styled hair.
Your eyes soften at how Suna looked just as drained as you felt. His eyes meet yours expectantly.
“Maybe I just wanted a breather, too,” you sigh out.
“Well, Suna-san,” he extends a hand out for you to take, “Come take a breather with me.”
• pairing : dad! nanami kento x female bodied! reader
• content warnings : established relationship, use of the word ‘daddy’, praise, collaring, a smidge of degradation and breeding
• word count : 3.9K words
• a note from jennie : happy father’s day! this is dedicated to one of the hardworking dilfs out there — mr. nanami kento. enjoy! 𓈒 ̇ ૮₍ ˶´ ꒳ `˶ ₎ა ׄ𓈒 also we’re just gonna pretend I posted this on fathers day.
𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐏
On very rare days Nanami got the opportunity to rest. He was a busy man and the world was a busy place.
Which is why when he was blessed with the chance to sleep in on Sunday he was more than eager to snatch the chance with both hands and clutch onto it tightly. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up that morning, not when he was sprawled out on his stomach, cheek smushed against one of the pillows that he cradled under his head, the softest of snores escaping him now and then. You weren’t about to disrupt that, not yet anyways.
timestamp, fluff, ~600 words (oops it was meant to be <500)
a/n: part of the "after you've read angst" collab @teesumu
you were scurrying your way out of the subways and ran out as quickly as you could. you couldn't believe that your "extra round of dancing while getting ready" would drag on for so long on the one day you didn't want to be late for.
the one time you and your boyfriend were able to go out, like an actual date. with his and your busy schedule, it was hard to secure days like these, and you had to mess up the one time.
glancing at the watch on your wrist, you soon quickly approached your set meeting spot. ten minutes late. you could probably make it up with a couple of kisses and compliments. kuroo absolutely loved it whenever you shower him with your words of affirmation to him.
you could peek his figure standing not too far ahead of you. his head was down looking at his phone, probably texting kenma to kill time as he waited for you.
"tetsu!"
his head perked up at his name suddenly being called, though he actually looked up at the sound of the familiar voice that he loved so much. his lips pulled up into a small smile when he saw your running figure approaching him. your face was something priceless, he should keep it engrave at the back of his mind.
"hey," he started, before his feline eyes widen.
he was so accustomed to you in your school uniform. after all, you two didn't meet up much outside of school and even if you did it was right after school for a study session, meaning you two were still dressed in your uniforms.
the new sight was pleasant to his eyes. he observed how you styled your shirt, matching it with a complimentary pair of pants. your shoes were plain, the type of shoes that go with every outfit with a little pop of colour as an accent.
he observed the way your hair flowed as you continued to run your way towards him. he must've been staring too hard because one second in his vision you were 30 meters away and now you were right in front of him.
he felt his body temperature increase; he definitely liked what he saw. the strange new feeling of seeing you all dressed up. he thought you looked beautiful.
"what are you staring at? oh my god do i have something on my face?!"
"no no, it's just, you look great," he felt his voice crack a little at the end. when you realized what he was feeling like, you decided to push his buttons a little.
"ho? is my dear tetsu getting flustered that i'm out of my school uniform?" kuroo looked away in attempts to hide any amounts of blush that may be creeping into his face, though his effort futile as the tips of his ears reddening as well.
you tried to examine his expression but your eyes lingered to his outfit. though you've seen him outside the traditional school uniform and in his tracksuit and school jersey, it was a different story when it came to casual clothing.
you could see the effort he went through putting it together. in your head you could already see him in his room, possibly going through every clothing item in his closet looking for the best combination.
you giggled to yourself and felt your chest swell with how much you loved him. you threw yourself into his arms, hugging his torso tightly and burried your face into him. wow, he even had some cologne on.
"you don't look too bad yourself mr. kuroo tetsuro. i think i could get past seeing you dressed up so nicely on a daily basis."
genre: established relationship, implied post timeskip, fluff, suggestive (proceed cautiously!)
warning(s): making out, suna gives you a hickey yeesh
wc: 1.8k
summary: suna thinks you look the best in red, and he isn't afraid to add his own touch to it.
a/n: idk i just 🤠 winged through this bc my brain stopped working at 800 words but like hope you all like it. <3
reblogs are greatly appreciated!
“Red looks good on you.”
You jolt on the heels of your feet when you feel a pair of hands slide themselves on each side of your waist. At first, your fight response kicks in, but when the person behind you leans their forehead on your shoulder, hair tickling the crook of your neck, a whiff of a familiar cologne passes through your senses and you immediately relax your tense body back into their hold, into your boyfriend’s hold.
Usually, you’re not one to float your own boat, but you agreed with him, the red dress you were wearing does indeed look good on you. The more you stared in the mirror, watching the way it fit snug against the upper part of your body, the off shoulder ruffles decorated your collarbone and the way the fabric flutters out right after your waistline to reach the tops of your knees, the more your confidence bubbles up in your chest and thankfully Suna was there to heighten your assurance.
“Thanks,” an inevitable chuckle accompanies your words as his hair brushes the sensitive skin of your neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
His gaze arises to make eye contact with you through the mirror in front of you, you find that even through his reflection, his stare was still as intense as ever. You hadn’t uttered a lie when you said he doesn’t look too bad, he looks far from bad, insanely good, even. Seeing your boyfriend in formal wear was definitely something you weren’t accustomed to (and to be fair, he probably only wore it because of osamu's wedding) , but is certainly something you could get used to. The jet black of the suit complimented his skin perfectly, and all the reluctance of whether or not the red tie, which you picked out because you wanted it to match your dress, would suit him was gone now. You weren’t sure why you thought it wouldn’t fit before because your boyfriend indeed had a face that looked like it was crafted by the greek gods, of course he would look good in any color or any clothing.
He offers you an attentive hum, thumb rubbing circles full of assurance onto your waist. It was too hard to not miss the way his eyes flashed from reverence to almost sultry in just a few seconds, and the gesture quickly became strangely alluring. This part of him never fails to surprise you, it was like tasting the previously sweet candy in your mouth turn spicy in mere seconds with no warning. However, that is not to say you don’t like it.
“You look good,” it was also difficult to not focus on the breath that comes along with his repetition of words. “But,”
You perk up at the addition, gesturing at him to finish his statement with a vigilant murmur of “go on.”
“There is something missing.”
“Oh?” your words come out in a challenging tone, and even you yourself weren’t sure if you had intended them to. “Care to enlighten me to what exactly am I missing?”
You pivot on your heels after you complete your sentence to return his gaze with equal ardor, resting one hand on the back of his neck while the other caresses his cheek. It almost felt like a stupid game of tug of war, and the both of you aren’t letting up despite knowing the other isn’t really competitive in spirit, basking in the thick tension created by the lack of distance and by the way every exhale he lets out smears on your lips.
A glance is casted down to your lips, and finally, he’s the one who gives in, closing his eyelids smashing your lips together with fervor, fueled by the way you compliantly follow the pace he sets. It was, without a doubt, messy, the sheer want affecting it, but it felt so good at the same time, and you couldn't hold back on wallowing in the sensation.
Suna keeps his hands on your waist, and his lips on yours that have not stopped moving, as he repeatedly nudges your foot with one of his repeatedly until eventually, you get what he’s trying to do. You take careful back steps even though you know he was there to support you if you fall. He escorts your steps with ones of his own, his feet following your trail and his hands acting like a precise guide to your destination.
Your mind had made a guess on where he was taking you, and it was confirmed that your guess was in fact right when the soft edges of your bed prods at the back of your knees. That served as a cue for you to let your already trembling legs give in, and you let it, unceremoniously letting your figure fall down to the bed behind you, feeling the mattress softening your fall.
The kiss finally breaks as a result of the position change, the warmth of his lips on yours still too evident and it causes heat to spread across your face, lungs burning in heaving in an attempt to get back the air that you had lost. The bed frame audibly cries out creaks of protest when he braces all of his body weight on his knees on each side of your body.
As his palms lay itself flat beside your head, no other thought goes through Suna’s head other than how ethereal you looked beneath him. Your hair was splayed messily around your head, but to him it resembled the most elegant of all halos. You falter under his heated gaze, covering the lower half of your face with the back of your hand, and averting your eyes as if it would lessen the weight of his eyes.
When you spare a momentary glance at him, a smile that looks too gentle for your liking spreads across his lips. It should look mischievous, and it does, but the inkling of gentleness in it along with the adoration in his eyes, took you by surprise.
One of the indents beside your head disappears, and before you could ponder on where his hand went, a tap on the inside of your wrist that was placed over your face answers you.
“Don’t hide yourself from me.” a wrap around your wrist follows suit with his words. Then, he drags it up above you, pressing it onto the surface of the bed with a firm pin, leaving your vulnerable features exposed once more to his pleased gaze.
He takes you by surprise again when his supporting arm bends on the elbow, lowering his body, not enough to be in contact with yours, but enough for you to feel the heat of it radiating through yours. The way he was positioned is intimidating in a way, but, oddly it doesn't bother you even the slightest.
Suna cranes his neck down on one side of your head, and shudders run through your body like electricity when a pair of lips press a chaste peck on the spot just beneath your ear, and your head turns to the opposite side almost subconsciously, giving him more access.
His all too perceptive nature of course takes notice of the slight flinch that you emitted, and he lets go of your wrist in favor of skimming his fingers upwards towards your bare palms in feathery, but smooth movements. He proceeds to entwine his fingers with yours, giving an assuring squeeze that brings comfort, spreading from the tips of your fingers all the way to your whole body.
The gesture was impeccably sweet and if it weren’t for the trail of teasing kisses he was leaving on your jawline that rapidly led to your neck by each second, you were sure your heart would have skipped a beat. But for now, the slightly ticklish feeling of his plump lips were causing your heartbeat to ring in your ears, and you have no room to focus on anything else.
A blow of hot air on the junction that connects your neck and shoulder, right by your pulse point, makes you jolt in surprise. However, when something wet grazes the same spot, you knew that the gust of air from before was mere child’s play.
He places a peck and short kiss on the spot, before giving it a wispy swipe of his tongue again. The way he alternates between the two motions has your feet trembling, whether it was in anticipation or worry, you don’t know, but the span of time he spent on the specific patch of your skin was almost like he was preparing it for something. Nonetheless, you still can’t wrap your finger around what he’s planning, coherent thoughts failing to form in your head.
One last lick, and without warning, he attaches his lips to the same spot, and it looks like this was different from the minuscule series of kisses that he gave you before. It was long lasting, and it wasn't just a trivial press of his lips on your skin. He suckled, nibbled and even set playful bites on the spot. Your heart quivers alongside your body, it was almost too much, and you find yourself being unable to hold back the mewl that has been resting on the back of your throat the whole time.
Suna pulls back when the sound travels into his ear, a proud huff escaping his parted lips. He glues his lips back onto yours in no time, moving them gently in a rhythm that takes your breath away, brushing your by now swollen lips occasionally with his tongue in a motion of teasing, a new need carving itself onto your brain.
He only retracts back to his normal position when his lungs burn and in huge demand of air, arm straightened to admire the work of art before him.
Your lips were swollen, eyes glazed over in a haze, mouth parted in a pant as a result of trying to keep up with his antics. A smile plays on his lips at the sight, and a momentary glance from your side proved to you that his smile was way too gentle. It should be mischievous, and granted, it does look like it, but the inkling of tenderness along with the adoration sparkling in his eyes, takes you aback.
Although, when an impish glint takes over his eyes in a mere seconds, you knew there was nothing to worry about. He untangles your fingers in favor of cupping your cheek in his hand, licking his lips in satisfaction. The red lipstick that you had previously put on tidily to match the shade of your dress was now smeared messily near your mouth, and he could faintly see slightly faded stains on the border of the swiftly purpling mark that he had left on your neck, an indication that the cosmetic was indeed smudged with the vigor of the kisses that you both shared. You are the very image of ethereal beneath him, and can't help but be enamored by you.
He beams a devilish aura, wipes the streak of red on the corner of your mouth with his thumb, and utters one thing:
summary: life is about making choices, and when the last chance to be happy presents itself, do you take it or leave it?
pairing: bokuto kōtarō x fem!reader
genre/warnings: friends to lovers, angst with a good ending
word count: 1921
a/n: hi hi, i'm here to repost one of my favs! this is based on a grey's anatomy episode and it's really self-indulgent but i don't care, i just love it, and i hope you love it too!
Weddings are supposed to be fun, and your wedding day is supposed to be the greatest of all but, why doesn't it feel that way? The words of your mother and friends were going in and out of your ears without being really registered by your brain, and your body felt dead in Asahi's hands as he finished adjusting your dress. At the same time, the last drops of makeup fell on your face, and the hands in your hair made you focus on your reflection.
That glow your mom talked about so much is gone, the emotion in your eyes does not exist, and the only thing present in your mind isn’t your vows, it isn’t your fiancé, it’s your best friend.
Bokuto's message repeats itself like a mantra in your mind, the words of a drunken man in love echoing over and over in your heart. The "I love you" between the tears and the unexpected confession are still fresh in your memory, erasing all traces of sanity.
"I can't," was the broken murmur and trembling of your hands that put a stop to the madness in the room. "I can’t do it."
“Do what?” The worried tone of your mother's voice and the confusion drawn on Kiyoko's face made you rethink the situation in a matter of seconds. Is it worth throwing away a secure future in exchange for a possible relationship with Bokuto? After all, he was drunk and confused when he called you, but aren't drunk people and children the ones who always tell the truth? The air around you seemed to diminish with every breath and questions bombarded your confused head. Why now? Why did he have to confess it now and not before? Why now that you had buried the love for him under layers within your heart?
"Dear?" Your mother's voice took you away from the sea of uncertainty once more, she took your face between her hands and after slightly scanning your expression, she told the rest to leave them alone. "What’s wrong?"
You didn't notice you were crying until the tips of her fingers gently brushed away all traces of tears from your cheeks, the warmth in her eyes broke your heart, and the layers that covered the love for your best friend cracked once again. "He said he loved me, but he was drunk.
The woman in front of you doesn't let you see the shock your words caused her. Her perfectly outlined lips don't let out any comments while she finishes correcting your makeup. Her hands are soft as they move towards your hands, a tight smile takes place on her face and the pain in your chest seems to grow before you hear her say the obvious.
“There is a man outside who loves you deeply and is willing to share his future with you, who dared to make the decision and ask you if you wanted to share your life with him, and you said yes. Now is not the time to go back."
The warm summer air touches his cheeks softly as the sun shining on the horizon seems to shout at him to run, and the accelerated rhythm of his heart seems to agree with the shining star.
The night before was a mistake. Bokuto knew that accepting Kuroo's idea of going to drink before seeing the love of his life marry another man was a bad idea, but he was an expert in taking them. His hands did not respond to his brain when the warning signs seemed to flash red. He didn’t want to ruin your day, he really didn’t, but the words ran before he could stop them. And suddenly, the friendship was ruined, or that was what he thought.
The memory of your silence before his words was suffocating, he could clearly imagine your face as he cried "I love you’s" as if they were the only words swimming in his mind. The thought of breaking your heart the day before the most important moment in your life was tearing him apart, but his own heart seemed to break every minute he spent thinking of your silhouette wrapped in a white dress and walking towards a happy ending that wouldn’t be with him.
From the balcony of his room, he watched people walk —almost run— towards the beach to finish arranging the last details of the place where the ceremony would take place. Right in front of the sunset, your lips would pronounce "Yes, I do” in the same way you practiced with him when you were kids, and then he would watch you walk away with someone else’s hand in yours.
What if he left? After all, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see you after crying for your love through a phone call, but wouldn't that make him a bad friend?
With tears threatening to fall, he walked to the bed where his body fell like a dead weight. How stupid did he have to be to ruin his best friend's life? The anxiety in his body seemed to be awakened by the rapid knocking on the door of whoever was on the other side —probably Akaashi to remind him that the ceremony would start soon and they should go downstairs. But when he opened the door the person in front of him was someone he didn't expect to see.
Anyone with two working eyes could see that your smile was fake, the excitement still didn't appear on your face and the aura that surrounded you didn’t match a bride who took months to plan the perfect day. This time it wasn't the words of your best friend that filled your mind. "It's not time to turn back,” it's not, it's not, it's not.
Someone calling your name from a distance distracts you from the turbulence, and when your grandmother's overly bright smile appears in front of you it’s hard to ignore that something has been done. "It's never too late to be cupid."
The confused look on your face should be enough to make her understand that her words didn’t register in your brain, but the tug on your right hand didn’t give time for questions; your bridesmaids were ready to lead you to the altar, but you weren’t ready to get married.
You smiled at Yachi and were quick to follow her, it wasn’t fair to the man waiting for you to start doubting now, but your mind couldn’t help to wander to the “what if” that Bokuto ignited last night.
What if I ran away? Yachi is distracted, my mom is outside with the guests, and if I’m lucky enough nobody at the parking lot will try to stop me. What the hell am I thinking? I can’t do that. I’m a coward. Stupid owl boy, stupid feelings; life was easier when we were kids.
You spotted Bokuto’s hair first, he was sitting next to Kuroo in the second row. Your heart ached at the sight, and when your eyes trailed to your fiancé, you felt the tears again. You didn’t search first for him. You did it for the best friend you were in love with.
The music started when the quartet saw you standing at the end of the improvised aisle decorated with seashells to mark your way. You faked another smile, fixing your gaze on the man standing at the other end. All while avoiding eye contact with the rest of the guests and trying to calm the fast beating of your heart, you trailed after Kiyoko’s footsteps. You tried, really tried, to not look in his way, but it was impossible. He looked drowned, his usual vibrating aura wasn’t there, his face didn’t light up when he saw you, and you were sure his mind was plagued with guilt.
You sent him a small smile when the last piece of your heart fell to his feet.
Beautiful, that was Bokuto’s first thought when he saw you walk down the aisle. Your grandma’s words stuck in his head and repeated again and again when your eyes looked for him. She said he had a chance with you, that it wasn’t too late even though it sounded selfish, it was worse for you to pretend a happy marriage than ditching a man at the altar —her words, not his.
But he was scared, under all the playfulness and careless actions, he loved you enough to watch you go. He didn’t want to hurt you more, your eyes didn’t have the sparkle you always had whenever you talked about your special day, and it was his fault.
Bokuto Koutarou saw with tears in his eyes as the man in front of you recited his vows, taking in your nervous self and that obvious fake smile, the last piece of his heart fell to your feet.
“Stop moping,” Kuroo whispered. “You heard her grandma, you have one last chance, and I’m not going to see you waste it.”
Before he could react, his friend made him stand. He froze, feeling all the eyes on him as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his dress shirt. He watched how your eyes widened and the confusion washed over the groom, looking at him dumbfounded.
His golden eyes looked straight at you, he lost all the fear when you two made eye contact, and last night's words made their way back to his mind in a blink. From his peripheral vision, he saw your grandma pulling your mom back to her chair and giving him a silent nod.
You can do it Koutarou, it’s your last chance.
“Y/N, we’ve been knowing each other for as many years as I can count. You’ve been by my side supporting me since we were kids, you never missed a match, and you always said I love you back.” He took a deep breath, feeling the rate of his heart go higher with every word he took a step next to you and extended his hand with a silent plea. “I love you, and I wish I could hear you say it back for the rest of my life.”
You didn’t dare to look at anyone else, your hands felt sweaty, and the tears were starting to fall down your cheeks. Your mind was going full speed, and your thoughts were mixed again; you could hear the guests’ whispers, the questions from Yachi to Kiyoko, and Hinata’s squeals. Everyone seemed to be in shock, everyone except for the old lady in the front row.
It's now or never.
You throw yourself into his arms before pulling at his hand to run away from the chaos unleashed behind you. Your mom’s screams were audible even when you two were inside the hotel and running to the parking lot. Your heart never felt so full of love until you saw his eyes. He got you trapped between his body and his car, his golden eyes were once again sparkling, and his whole dementor went back to his usual self.
“I do love you,” you whispered through your silent tears.
This time he didn’t say anything and closed the distance between your bodies, his lips crashed against yours in a soft kiss, his hands found their way to your face and wiped away your tears. There are a lot of things unresolved, but right there, the only thing that matters is the steady beat of your heart and the gentle hands of your lover.
may i request either a drabbles or a headcanon of protective daichi and iwaizumi when their girlfriend is being harassed? thank you! have a nice day, dear
a/n: hi anon! thanks for requesting, sorry i got it to this quite late :’) tweaked it slightly by making the reader gn + included kageyama, hope you enjoy <3
the karasuno team opted to go to an all-you-can-eat yakiniku restaurant to celebrate their win over shiratorizawa
you had gone off to stock up on more meat as the second years (noya and tanaka especially) devoured the first batch you grabbed
a twinge of worry arose when daichi realised you haven't returned after awhile
he excused himself from the table's raucous antics to look for you
the concern amplified when he finally found you at the meat station, discomfort splayed on your features as a stranger stood eerily close to you
"hey, sweetheart. why don't we grab lunch together some time?"
"who are you calling sweetheart."
you glanced up from the floor to see your boyfriend staring down at the stranger, anger visibly present in his eyes
it was the stranger’s turn to feel uneasy as they distanced themselves from you, muttering:
“sorry, didn’t know—”
“even if a person wasn’t taken, you could, i don’t know, read the room and tell when someone is clearly uncomfortable?”
after the stranger had walked away, daichi wrapped an arm around your waist, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead
“you okay, babe?”
all burden was lifted off his shoulders when he saw your smile as you returned his forehead kiss with one of your own
“thank you, daichi.”
iwaizumi hajime
iwaizumi had taken you as his plus one to the aoba johsai graduation party
you both had agreed to keep your relationship on the low, so the graduation party was your first public event together
oikawa, matsukawa and hanamaki couldn’t contain their surprise when they saw your arm laced around iwaizumi’s
“iwa-chan! why didn’t you tell us that you had a lover?”
“who would’ve guessed.”
“iwaizumi hajime! you scoundrel!”
you could only laugh as you saw your boyfriend’s cheek redden, hand reaching out to swat his friends
you excused yourself to grab a drink at the punch table
in the middle of pouring yourself a glass, you heard a voice pipe up:
“hey there!”
you glanced at your left to see a well-dressed stranger, a drink in his hand
“hi,” you smiled, despite the uneasiness already settling in your bones
“what’s a stunner like you doing alone out here?”
“i’m sorry,” you start, “but i have—”
“hope you don’t mind me getting your number.”
you sighed, opening your mouth to repeat your previous reply when you spot iwaizumi standing behind the stranger, an eyebrow raised in inquiry
“would you like my number instead?”
you couldn’t help but giggle as the stranger turned to face your boyfriend
“and who may you be?”
“nice to meet you. iwaizumi hajime. boyfriend.”
the statement stunned the stranger into silence, and they looked between the two of you awkwardly before scampering off
their departure initiated the bouts of laughter spilling from your lips
to which iwaizumi responded to by furrowing his eyebrows even further inwards
“what? why are you laughing?”
you wrap your arms around your boyfriend, placing a quick peck on his cheeks
“thank you, my knight in shining armour.”
kageyama tobio
over the course of your relationship, you and kageyama had developed a habit to wait for each other by the school gates so you could walk home together
on days when school would extend into overtime, kageyama would stand guard by the gates with two milk cartons, offering one to you with his signature awkward grin
more frequently, you would wait for kageyama to wrap up volleyball practice
it was just another one of those days as you leaned on the gates while scrolling through your phone, when a stranger approached your lone figure
“hi.”
you nodded curtly in response, returning their greeting before going back to your business
“so. don’t think i’ve seen you around.”
your lips curled into an uncomfortable smile as you looked up from your phone
“well. i don’t think i’ve seen you around either. and i prefer to keep it that way.”
“you could try to be polite, you know.” the stranger scoffed, rolling their eyes at you. “i’d just like to get to know you better.”
at that moment, kageyama appeared in his team jersey with the rest of the karasuno team
“who’s this?” he asked, placing an arm around your shoulders
along with kageyama’s icy glare, the stranger also had to endure a stare down from the entire karasuno team
they responded by scurrying away, glancing back at the intimidating group to keep their distance
“oh, no one,” you laughed, admiring the way the karasuno team had morphed back to their usual jubilant expression
