WILD

SEMI-ACTIVE IND. KURAMOCHI YOUICHI WRITTEN BY KAI

[dot823]

tfw you rp a snarky asshole with your friend who is also rping as a snarky asshole and all in all the entire thing can be summed up with

[pophist]

I spent way too much time on this.

based on

[babyshouyou]

by Porori (pixiv & twitter) ※ Posted with permission from the artist. Please do not remove the source or repost without permission.

[chthonicvindicator-moved-blog]

Please reblog if you are okay with random starters, pre-established relationships and responses to ask memes. I need some new people to bug with starters & what nots. 

[prettyboycatcher]

✧✧

[prettyboycatcher]

Miyuki spits another laugh at Kuramochi, bumping his thigh accidently, almost fondly, with their limited distance. As awkward as their interactions were, Kuramochi and himself did often find themselves together, whether it was studying, practice, or nothing at all. They’d find each other  at random so often one would think they were connected to the hip (the freshman would say “You can’t find one without seeing the other nearby.”, in which both would respond: “Wrong.”). It’s – well, an embarrassing thought to bare for sure, but of all the people for Miyuki to “date” under a fake pretense, the fact that it was Kuramochi…. He wasn’t all too shocked.

“Oh?” Miyuki lifts his other hand to his mouth in an exaggerated shock – eyes thin and smirk already threatening to surface. “I had no idea you were so interested.”  Miyuki couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out in small giggles. “All you had to do was ask.”

Though it’s Miyuki’s turn to suffer next. The butterflies in his stomach erupt in a flutter in one swift burst that ended as soon as it started. The pierce was enough to keep the brunette on edge – a what the fuck kind of edge, where the hell did that come from kind of edge. The hand on his thigh sends electricity through his leg he figured would have died out in his first year – it’s not that Miyuki particularly got a lot of action, but him and Kuramochi weren’t exactly strangers to close contact. It was hard to be, being in such a party atmosphere. And being on a boys baseball team. But acting a couple? The onlookers catching sight of them knew from just a glance how that seemed to be going.

He didn’t jump (he wouldn’t allow it) but the contact gave him a quick jolt. Miyuki continued to wear that same smile, corners of his lip twitching from their upwards position. An attempt to look casual and not all encompassed by the hand on him.

(Though whenever his eyes did wander, they’d always find their place back at the twitching fingers at his knee. The brunette has to wonder if he’d only imagined those fingers move just a touch higher.)

But despite the new distraction Kuramochi had kindly invited, It wasn’t enough to make the other simply not notice the whitening of once tan knuckles on his leg. Or face. They had gone from barely believable to Miyuki holding Kuramochi hostage, and were seconds from getting called out – Miyuki knew this much.

He had considered this next line of action as an absolute backup: with himself initiating as bad as it is, anyone overhearing could and would assume the worst. The six words that you overheard at any frat party, the line that confirmed or destroyed an individuals plans for the rest of the night. It was a last resort, but Kuramochi was already tanking – and Miyuki was left to take matters into his own hands. What a deadbeat boyfriend.

The catcher raised himself from their seat, ignoring the fleeting warmth of the others hand. Turning back to face the other male, brown eyes darted to the other bodies around them, swallowed any hesitation and met eyes with the shortstop. Speaking out in his most casual tone of voice, he said:

“Want to come to my room?”

[outrvn]

Social suicide.

Kuramochi feels his heart hitch. He pans through various different initial reactions and emotions; eyes wide, he wants-- needs to look around and see who had found interest in their conversation. Then comes the realisation and the faint shrivelling. His leg that was once nervously tapping grinds to a halt, and he takes refuge with his own hands; lacing fingers rigidly together. Then the final reaction he decides upon - a brief glance sideways, before eyes narrow at the male posing the question, with a look that pierces the comfort zone miles deep.

It occurs to him: he can’t say he’s void of all care for what others think, but his vision shifts and oh god, he’s playing a fucking game, isn’t he? The shortstop pulls himself up from his position, he keeps his eyes glued to Miyuki’s. There’s an almost uncomfortable pause, but Kuramochi doesn’t let it get that far. two can play at this, right? The hardened expression is wiped away in an instant; replaced with a pout and a passing glance as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of agreement. He feels the heat of gazes on his back. It’s fucking hot in that place, he notes. He’s uncomfortable and wants to get OUT - Miyuki’s dropped them in it, and they leave together, and Kuramochi buries hands in his pockets and counts to 10 in his head.

It’s pretty silent on the way; Kuramochi isn’t giving much away. He leans on the wall beside Miyuki’s door as he routes around for the key, and there’s a groan uttered from his lips. “Nice one, genius. Loved that touch of confidence, too. Did I tell you I love playing these shitty games of ‘who can get the most uncomfortable first’? Because I fucking hate it.” It’s not a spiteful remark in reality. He really is thankful - not to Miyuki, no, he’d never admit that, but the heat has started to evaporate and he can feel muscles relaxing once again. Still, a role of the eyes as he slumps down onto the catcher’s bed, shuffling and resting head against the wall. 

“Man, do you know how screwed we are?-- Well, now everyone thinks we definitely are. In the literal sense of the word. Asshole.” More sighs, more utterances of how bad they are at this, more complains that bubble down into something.. Hard to pin down. Kuramochi thinks he’s taking it fairly well, despite his closest encounter with another person being an accidental ass touch at a crowded gig. Maybe it’s because of the lack of romantic attraction, maybe it’s because he’s just smooth, maybe it’s because it’s Miyuki. He doesn’t really know what that entails, but everything doesn’t seem as forced as he whines about. It’s more the situation of being stared at than the actions themselves. It’s confusing and Kuramochi doesn’t dwell on it - it’s nothing, it’s nothing.

[prettyboycatcher]

✧✧

                     The idea was fucked to begin with.

It was all Kuramochi’s fault, probably. How they had landed into this situation was beyond him, but the shortstop was never quite victorious in the dating department (as his previous pining for a certain Wakana seemed to prove) and was amenable to teasing by the upperclassmen. It wasn’t as if Miyuki was getting lucky either, his school days wrapped up in studies and practice. Apparently, the teasing had gotten too much. Their “bachelor” lives becoming a running gag amongst the group until it finally just slips. Miyuki can barely remember who said it first.

“I’m seeing someone, actually.”

The faces that surround them erupt in questions, and it’s not until Miyuki and Kuramochi share a stress filled look that someone jumps to a very wrong conclusion. One they can’t undo if they tried.

 It leads to where they are now, hands laced, fumbling and awkward as they keep the facade up for the familiar faces that near them. The act had begun and both of them decided they should play it out for at least a bit – as if they had a choice. Miyuki would rather hold Kuramochi’s sweaty hand then have them become the laughing stock amongst the entire campus.

 He speaks with a sweetly fake smile, voice loud enough just so the other can hear him. “You’re squeezing my hand, dear. Ease up on the force.” He wriggles his fingers stuck in his alleged boyfriend’s iron grip. He sucks at it, naturally, Miyuki figures the last thing Kuramochi held intimately was a baseball. But there’s a sensation of their hands being locked together that he can’t quite grasp, his fingertips burning as they dangle atop the others hand. It was uncomfortable and weird and Miyuki was sure to avoid it for as long as possible.  

“We aren’t convincing anyone.” He takes note, eyes darting to others in the room. He tacks on a shitty laugh. “No wonder you were single for so long.”

@outrvn

[outrvn]

It’d been a long day. Relaxing was out of the question with the slip-up that had been too long a hesitation and a fleeting glance for some sign of aid. Now, Kuramochi was on edge, to say the least. He wasn’t used to feeling heavy gazes baring holes in the back of his head. He made a mental note to complain outwardly through scowls and muttering under his breath about the amount of times he’d heard whispering revolving around the two of them. The eye roll is dramatic and it’s bitter, and if he can’t take it out on the world, he’s going to take it out on Miyuki. Still, he can’t exactly say he didn’t expect the worst. His grip falters, and that’s when he realises he’s latching onto Miyuki’s hand more for the comfort, all the while cursing his shitty long fingers being awkward and making the whole experience uncomfortable for everyone involved. Kuramochi thanks the stars that the blush from earlier on has settled - he’s used the oh, it’s pretty warm today, isn’t it? excuse far too many times today to be considered genuine. He wants to spark back at the catcher; wants to shove the words back down his throat, but he takes the pacifist route and sighs, slumps back into his seat, allowing his grip to go lax. A permanent look of mild annoyance is etched into his face as he scratches the back of his neck.  “No shit.” He knew it was rhetorical; last amount of spite left in him was worth it, he notes. “Don’t act like your hands have been sifting around in the cookie jar. You’re just as clueless as me, asshole. Speaking of which, we don’t have to hold hands everywhere we go. That’s just-- weird, right? That looks weird. We look like the couples you see around the back of the gym building who don’t come up for air.” Kuramochi can’t shake the nerves; the stagnant uncomfortable air that lingers around him. Public displays of affection creeped him out. He wouldn’t be in this deep if it weren’t for the suspicious jabs from Kawakami and Kominato. His gaze drifts sidewards, to Kazuya, and Kuramochi reels at the sight of the smug grin and the facade he puts on to everyone. who even buys this shit, anyway? He’s found solace through muttering passive aggressively, such as seeing someone, my ass and more complaints of the absolute fuckery he has to deal with. He’s starting to feel comfortable enough that people are getting on with their lives - moving on, finding something new to ogle, when a few of their teammates slump down near them, and it’s enough to make Kuramochi’s fingers slip onto Miyuki’s knee as he slips his phone out. DISTRACTION, DISTRACTION, DISTRACTION. He wants to fade into the background, fade away from the eyes, the impending inane questions - he’s going to slip up, he can’t bite his tongue for so long. Eyes dart slyly from the dulled phone screen, either side. He can barely tell his body is rigid, his expression screams hey, hey! someone’s holding me at gunpoint!, and the hand on Miyuki’s leg has whitened at the knuckles. Is it a cry for help, for someone, ANYONE, get him away from the prying eyes and the pressure of intimacy? Probably a little too strong for his own good.

[outrvn]

hi im kai and im so thirsty for kuramiyu Good Bye

[outrvn]

@uorashi thats really nice whoa thank u..

[outrvn]

me: i have lost all of my icons me: goes ahead and likes for starters and thiNGS THAT REQUIRE ICONS FUKC

[cptncatch-blog]

this isn’t how he imagined it at all - it’s every cliché he could possibly dream up of with that brain of his.  he just doesn’t know why he never pictured the very real possibility of meeting kuramochi years later like this, trapped in a dark closet to smother every secret of his heart.

head spinning, the floor’s nothing but wave after wave beneath him and it doesn’t help that the way kuramochi kisses him wrecks any semblance of foundation in his knees.  golden eyes half-lidded, miyuki has his arms temporarily laced around the other’s neck, long fingers unable to stop from desperately exploring hair, throat, the planes of his chest ( did kuramochi even grown a little broader?  the very possibility of it makes him swell with something needy inside ).  he’s melting, he swears he is and it’s terrifying to be able to let go like this, but this is exactly what he needs.  kuramochi is exactly what he wants.

hands impatient and half-grinning, he’s pulling at the hem of the other’s shirt.  “take this off, youichi,” he groans, words mumbled into the warm mouth.  miyuki’s far too occupied with trying to figure out how to take off his own shirt - a task subsequently deemed much more difficult than it actually looks after drinking himself into a tizzy.  does he know what he’s getting himself into?  no, but does that mean he wants to stop so soon either?  definitely not.  miyuki’s sighing into his mouth, kisses sloppy and tongue against tongue.  “i’m,” kiss, “not,” kiss, “letting,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “go.”  not this time, not ever again.  maybe tomorrow, but for tonight, he’s all his.

he presses his hips against kuramochi’s, eliciting a sharp groan from his own lips, but it’s not enough.  shit, he doesn’t even know what kuramochi’s up to these days, but miyuki knows one thing: kuramochi youichi is one hell of a kisser.  seriously, who the hell taught him how to do that thing with his teeth anyway?  hardly fair if you ask miyuki.  ““c’mon, don’t make this easy on me,” he taunts, sticky lips curled into a devilish smirk.  he’s asking for trouble, but he doesn’t mind it.  “bite me harder, little cheetah.”

[outrvn]

who said alcohol and heated, completely not-thought-through actions were a good combination? in fact, the opposite had always been youichi’s virtue, but here he was, his senses alight with each reckless touch and gasp; a wordless conversation between the two. it was fitting, really, what with the void that the two had seemed to have fallen into. no texts, no calls - no communication after seido. his grin was wicked as miyuki tugged his shirt, and who was he to refuse? in usual circumstances, he would have questioned the act, but right now kuramochi didn’t really feel like thinking, no, he had to go with this, because it was only a matter of time before the scenario - perfection - cracked. he struggles with the shirt for a mere moment, “thought it was gettin’ too hot in here anyway,” it was only a passing thought that turned into speech - a sure sign youichi was heading further down into this hell and dragging miyuki down with him. his tongue glazed over his lips and he broke into a drunken cackle at the sight of miyuki’s own misfortune. it was good-natured, and there was no time to linger on it after the kisses land one after the other. miyuki’s slurred voice was to die for. he assumed that was why his heart was racing, not the connotations of the words themselves. kuramochi was confident, but not confident enough to vocalise any true appreciation, so he does the next best thing. chest to chest, his hands curl around and nails grip miyuki’s waist firmly.  the taunting, oh god the taunting. the press of miyuki’s hips was enough validation that they were on the same page - more than that, it was the beginning of kuramochi’s spiral downward. he bares teeth at the feeling pooling in his stomach and he almost wants the nails to puncture his pretty boy skin. kuramochi can’t hesitate after the words drip from his lips - his body acts of its own accord. he darts in and kisses kazuya with vigour. its messy and warm, and he swears for a moment he can feel him in his system and it’s fucking intoxicating. trademark smug grin as he looks through the lust and rose, he looks at-- into miyuki. his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen, and he can suddenly feel everything. its a shock to his system - everything feels slower, not sluggish, but impacting. kuramochi’s eyes slip downward after what feels like a lifetime, and his lips move to jawline, to neck, to collarbones. it’s the only careful thing he’s done the entire evening, but he makes sure to suck and bite enough to create something more than a memory for the morning. he feels the heat getting to every part of him, but all he can do is drink miyuki in. “fuck,”, he’s hungry for this, needy; has been for the most important years of his life.

[trxcklist]

Visit Original Link

ban all the music || nothing but thieves

[lulusunicorn-deactivated2020071]

✧･ﾟ* K U R A M O C H I   Y O U I C H I *･ﾟ✧

[outrvn]

i would make some kind of post saying how i’m gonna try and be on more because i love kuramochi youichi (that last part is true) but i reset my computer and all my icons are gone + even without that excuse i am a lazy mess all of the time so i can’t promise anything. what i CAN (probably) promise is me sending yall memes/ic messages or posting things without icons or unformatted icons because, Wow, I Can and I Am Indecisive, but feel free to hmu ic or ooc in the askbox if you wanna plot or talk abt anythin i am Here for the moment

[stckhlmr-a]

anyarps:

I love chill roleplay partners that don’t mind when you go mia for a while and totally understand that some weeks you’re just busy and some days you’re not even busy you just don’t want to deal with the world in general/don’t want to do a thing and who don’t think that just bc you haven’t talked in a week or two that means the plot is dead and who don’t need to be in daily contact with you to enjoy writing/talking/plotting with you and I love that when we finally have so time time to talk/rp we just pick up right where we left off and it’s never weird or awkward God bless u guys

[daiyanoacestuff]

Visit Original Link

compilation of miyuki laugh from 01 to 19 ep

[sssngn-deactivated20180729]

lmao

[outrvn]

bend over for daddy :^)

i’m never speaking to you again.