🍓 ,, ੈ Playing. Fluffvember 2020 Masterlist ❞.

WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT-

001 MIYA ATSUMU X SHUT UP AND DRIVE SERIES

++ MSBY GARAGE

❝ i've been looking for a driver who is qualified, so if you think that you're the one step into my ride ❞

dt — @rintaroll

“so, what’s it gonna take for ya to praise me a little more?”

you rolled your eyes and huffed, brushing the setters hand off your shoulder.

“shouldn’t you be more concerned about, oh i don’t know, your fans, interviews, your teammates?!” you snapped back as atsumu held both his hands up in defence.

the crowd was loud and still bustling as the black jackals most recent victory continued to stir excitement through the mass of spectators in the high stands. fans were still yelling and chanting as interviewers scrambled to grab the attention of any player they could. multiple had pried for atsumu in fact, alas, all his attention was solely focused on none other than his teams promotional manager; you.

you were chatting to the teams photographer and uploading updates and playbacks onto the teams twitter at the time the blond had bounded his way over to you and here you were, faced with the famous setter leaning on the advertisement boards lining the court diving you from him.

“miya,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “go and talk to some interviewers and get yourself back over to the others, i’m begging you at this point.”

“beggin’ huh?” a boyish smirk tugged at his lips and his eyes stayed locked on your own.

“not in the way your disgusting little mind is thinking of.” you shot back, stepping back from the board and looking back down at your phone where the teams twitter was currently blowing up.

atsumu snickered before standing up straight.

“whatever ya say doll, just hold up a little longer and i’m all yours again yeah?”

you scoffed and shook your head at him before shooing him away.

“i’d prefer you weren’t.”

“lyin’s a bad habit.”

“would you just go already?”

atsumu laughed as he turned to make his way back to the rest of his awaiting team. waving a hand back at you, he turned to face you before shooting a wink your way as interviewers and photographers flooded the scene.

this was a typical exchange of interaction between the two of you. ever since you had been introduced to the team as their promotional manager, atsumu had fixated his interest outside of volleyball onto you. 7 months later and nothing had changed despite his never faltering persistence.

you sighed as the photographer laughed softly before turning to his own laptop to import more photos for you to upload.

“he seems to have a soft spot for you.”

you groaned and switched your phone off, leaning back on the advertisement boards atsumu himself was previously leaning against.

“he’s such a handful.” you stated as the photographer chuckled.

“looks like he wants to be one for you though.”

“i wish he didn’t” you muttered back as the photographer smiled earnestly at you.

“i think we both know that’s a lie, we’ve been working together for a while and i don't think this dread to spend time with him is as evident as you make it out.”

you whined as you sent a soft frown his way.

“trust me, it is.”

“whatever you say.” the man teased back before clicking on the last images to send your way.

thanking him and making your way over to the teams manager and coach, you stood beside them in front of the msby boys and watched them as outlet interviewers shot questions their way.

multiple flashes went off every few seconds as each player flashed a handsome smile to the camera. you scanned over the team and bokuto was excitedly chatting and laughing with the interviewers. you smiled softly to yourself as you let your eyes wander from bokuto over to sakusa who was trying his best to avoid contact with his sweaty teammates and ‘annoying’ interviewers. it was clear he wasn’t as thrilled to be there as the others so you sent an apologetic look his way and mouthed to him he only had to put up for roughly 10 minutes more. he silently wallowed in self pity at that, but that quickly turned to agitation as atsumu dominated your vision.

slinging an arm over sakusa, (much to the latters disgust), atsumu grinned at you and flashed a smirk for a brief second before turning back to give the cameras a toothy grin.

your face dropped back into a frown as atsumu feigned hurt from a distance.

the team manager laughed as she elbowed you gently.

“interviewers might have a little more luck keeping him focused if you were the one interviewing him.”

you raised an eyebrow as you turned to face her.

“he’s like a puppy.” you stated bluntly as the manager laughed.

“a lovesick puppy.” she corrected as you faked a gag.

“why you all think he’s head over heels for me is way beyond me.”

the manager smiled before nudging for you to look at the attractive setter.

“because it's obvious. you break the boys heart every week.”

you watched as atsumu happily chatted to interviewers and forced sakusa to begrudgingly pose for photos and join in with him.

“he’s not my type.” you said as your eyes stayed focused on the blond.

“right.” the manager teased before smiling over at the team's captain, meian, her own boyfriend.

you smiled at the pair’s interaction as the team dispersed after thanking interviewers and fans for their support.

meian wandered over to the manager who happily placed a kiss to her cheek before guiding her off towards the back of the stadium, hand lingering on the small on her back.

you sighed as your own thoughts invaded your headspace. it wasn’t that you didn’t want a boyfriend. you just hadn’t met anyone worth the time yet.

well, that was your go to excuse to tell everyone anyway. the truth was, you didn't even know the limits to your own standards, you just knew they were high when looking for a potential partner.

the feeling of a heavy arm slung over your shoulder forced you back into reality as your eyes flickered up in surprise.

“miss me?” the hot breath and familiar voice teased the shell of your ear as you scowled.

“you wish.” you snapped back as you attempted to duck out of your offender's grip.

“ah-ah, yer coming home with me today.” atsumu smirked confidently as you hissed at him to get off.

“says who?” you argued as the setter looked down at you smugly.

“me.” another voice joined the conversation as you turned to face the owner of it.

your eyes met the coach who was looking at you slightly sympathetically.

“huh?”

“sorry,” the coach began, hand holding the back of his neck. “i know i said i’d take you home, but my wife has some errands she needs me to pick up before getting home and i’d hate to have to drag you along with me this late at night.”

you groaned but nodded understandably.

“luckily, atsumu here was kind enough to offer to be your ride back home.”

“lucky me.” your voice dripping with thick sarcasm as atsumu ignored it.

“yeah, lucky you indeed. do ya know how many girls would kill to be in yer position right now?” atsumu teased, arm still firmly made at home around your shoulders.

“let them kill me.” you glared at him as he gasped playfully.

“ya don’t mean that.”

“i do.”

“you don’t.”

“just take me home already i’m tired!” you threw your arms up as atsumu grinned.

“sure, give me a few minutes to grab my stuff and i’ll meet you round the back of the building, yeah?”

“whatever.”

you made your way towards the back exit of the stadium and were met with other members of support for the team who were waiting for the boys to grab their things from the locker rooms. some players opted to shower after matches while others waited til they got back home. atsumu fell into the category of players who waited until they got home. this was both a blessing and a curse. you wouldn’t have to wait for him for too long, but you would be met with a sweaty atsumu.

this wasn’t technically a bad thing, atsumu had a habit of getting rid of the smell after each match with an expensive cologne you’d never even attempt to pronounce, but he happened to somehow be a little more attractive when he looked worn out and disheveled. you hated yourself for thinking such a thing but you just couldn’t help it. he was annoyingly attractive and it made his personality a little more dislikable in your opinion.

you waited for around 10 minutes before you were met with boisterous laughter ringing through the spacious lounge by the exit.

atsumu and bokuto came striding out from the hall directing towards the locker rooms, gym bags in their hands and ruggish hair that would need taming again eventually.

you sighed as you waited for atsumu to approach you. he bid his goodbyes to everyone and sent a look at bokuto's way. the ace held a thumbs up at atsumu as the others in the lounge looked at each other giggling and smiling smugly.

you raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off as you felt a hand find its way on your waist.

“let’s get going then.” his voice strumming chords through your body as you shivered slightly.

atsumu led you out and down towards the underground garage used by players and staff members whilst at the stadium. you’d never actually seen atsumu’s car before so you had no idea what to be looking for, but atsumu’s hand remained firmly on your waist as he led you over to an array of expensive cars. mentally trying to guess what car belonged to the setter, atsumu watched with a small smirk etched on his face as your eyes scanned along each car. keys hooked around his finger, atsumu pressed the unlock button as your jaw dropped slightly.

of fucking course.

miya atsumu was the proud owner of a jet black 2021 chevrolet corvette with the number plate gracing it in all its glory ‘MIY4 13’.

you scoffed as atsumu’s smirk widened.

“so, ya gettin in or what?”

“into what? my one way invitation to death?”

atsumu snickered as he led you over to the passengers seat.

“i won’t kill ya, i promise.”

you looked back at him, handsome and sharp features making your eyes soften.”

“well, it’s not like i’ll be able to yell at you if you break that promise.”

“exactly.” atsumu grinned as you climbed into the luxury vehicle. the soft leather padding of the seats welcoming you as your weight shifted onto them.

you glanced around the interior as your eyes were met upon. various lit buttons caught your attention as a screen switched on as atsumu opened the drivers door. you were certain the car had way too many features but that’s what made it a luxury vehicle you guessed. the sleek black and red complimented interior was admired by you as atsumu watched your eyes dance around the car. his eyes softened as you visably relaxed a little more. your hand hooked across the firmly threaded seatbelt as you pulled it around you.

you looked at atsumu who’s smirk seemed to have faded. instead, a soft grin was painted across his face as he helped you click the belt securely in place.

“don’t kill me miya.”

“i’ll do my best.” he winked at you before pressing the start engine.

mentally chanting your last prayers, you accepted the position fate had put you in and did your best to stop the stirring of butterflies in your chest as atsumu placed his hand on the back of your headrest and pulled out.

well fuck.

as if he wasn’t attractive enough before, he sure as hell was now. your eyes widened and heart picked up it’s pace as the scent of atsumu’s signature cologne flooded your senses.

his sharp jaw and focused eyes, pointed in the direction of the rear window as he successfully pulled the car out the space. moving his hand back onto the wheel, atsumu turned to smirk at you as you gave him a pleading look. before you could open your mouth to speak, the setter slammed on the accelerator and the engines picked up its volume as your head was thrown back a little as the car sped out the garage exit.

“you little shit!” you cussed out as atsumu laughed as you sped onto the highway through the city.

“ya love the thrill don’t lie.”

“i’m not lying!” you protested as the flashes of bright lights flew past the window.

atsumu smiled as his right hand found its place on the middle of your thigh.

“miya!” you hissed as atsumu tilted his head momentarily your direction.

“ya can call me atsumu ya know?”

“i don’t want to!”

“for such a genuine person, yer so full of shit sometimes.”

you huffed as you gave up letting atsumu’s touch encourage the stir inside of you. you turned and glared out the window at the passing scene as atsumu hummed in satisfaction.

a few more moments of comfortable silence went by, nothing but the sounds of cars zooming past and the soft hum of atsumu’s own car’s engine.

you frowned and bit the corner of your lip as you peaked towards the blond whose eyes were fixed on the road.

“so,” you began, resulting in the player's eyes to flicker your way for a millisecond. “why are you so hooked on me?” you questioned.

you held your breath as you finally voiced the concern that had been playing on your mind for a while. you rarely had moments of privacy with the man despite his infatuation and demand to be around you.

“am i not allowed to be?” he challenged teasingly as he sqeezed your thigh slightly.

you wanted to force his grip off of you, you really did, but something about it felt so natural you just couldn't.

“miya.” you sighed and shook your head.

“atsumu.” he corrected as you turned to face him properly.

“look, you’re just my type. that’s all there is to it.” he replied simply,as if it was no big deal to him.

“and just what exactly is your type?” you quizzed as you pulled up at a traffic light.

slowing the car to stop for a while the light was red, atsumu turned his face to look at your own before he flashed that boyish grin you’d unknowingly grown rather fond of.

“you.”

and with that, the world threw you back into fast motion as the green light flashed, highlighting his face before he hit the acceleration again making your eyes widen.

“atsumu…” you sighed quietly as the adrenaline brought more life into his eyes.

it wasn’t that you hated atsumu. it wasn’t that at all. he was just someone you didn’t see yourself seriously with. someone so out there and demanding of the world. you had always envisioned yourself with someone a little more down to earth, someone with a stable job with a lowkey personal life, a person who took life at a comfortable pace. you had never seriously considered being with someone like miya atsumu. someone who demanded the world's attention, dominated every scene he was put in, who took life at the speed the highest the accelerator would go. someone so big, so bright. you never imagined someone like miya atsumu would take interest in someone like you. you were opposites stuck in an entanglement of professional lives.

out of every person in the world, the universe had decided miya atsumu would become the man who ticked the boxes to your unknown standards. you just hated to acknowledge it.

pulling off the highway, atsumu drove through the less busy roads as your apartment complex came into vision. half of you wanted the ride to be a little longer, but the other half of you couldn’t wait to lock yourself in your apartment away from the man who caused turmoil inside of you.

atsumu hummed as he pulled around the back of your complex. the roads were quiet and the soft lights of other buildings gleamed off the vehicle as the golden light flooded through the tinted glass of the windows, pulling attention to the boyish, but charming features of his face.

you sighed as he pulled the car to a stop and let the engine settle down. you stayed like that for a moment as the two of you sat there packed in the quiet parking lot.

“listen, I meant it, i really do like you.” he said as you studied his eyes for any signs of him being ingenuine; you couldn't find any.

your eyes softened as you leaned on the headboard.

“miy- atsumu.” you began quietly as his eyes admired your form. “it’s not that i don’t like you or anything, it's just- i don’t know if you’re my type.” you confessed as your heart hammered against your chest.

“well, you just called me by my first name, that’s gotta count for something right?”

you looked up at him and locked your eyes into his honest ones. you sat up and turned to face him as he took both of your hands into his.

“look, i get it, i’ve been annoying since day one-”

“-annoying is an understatement.” you cut in as atsumu playfully glared at you.

“rude. anyways as i was saying, i might’ve come across as a little too strong from the start, but there's just somethin’ about you. i just can’t seem to leave ya alone.” the blond confessed honestly as his warm, calloused hands held yours tightly.

“atsumu, i just don’t know.” you shook your head as he held onto your hands tightly. “i just don’t know what i’m looking for.”

“let me help ya find it in me then.” he pleaded softly, a small grin tugged at his lips.

you cast your eyes down to where your hands were being connected by him. the stir in your chest sped up as your heart was slamming against your chest at this point.

“atsumu i just-”

cutting you off, atsumu pulled your hands away from each other as he moved one up towards your jaw to cradle your face gently. dark golden eyes melting at the sight of you close up, atsumu pulled your face in closer to his and your heart just wouldn’t let you pull away. his lips finally met your own after what felt like an eternity and it was if yours were made to fit against his.

his hand moved towards the back of your neck as he encouraged you to move closer. you leaned closer letting your own hand find its way against atsumu’s broad chest.

the kiss deepened as you gave access to the setter’s tongue as he dominated your movements. small gasps and whines were heard in the silence of the parking lot as neither of you had it in your to pull away. atsumu’s hand was securely at the back of your neck with the other gripping your waist as you groaned at the slightly uncomfortable position.

pulling away, the two of you breathed heavily as you leaned back in the expensive leather seat as atsumu stared at you softly.

“what the fuck was that?”

“our first kiss as a couple.” atsumu teased but failed to stop the wide smile spread across his face.

“who said anything about being a couple?” you shot back as atsumu found your hand once more, lacing your fingers together tightly.

“your body language. you kissed back.”

“i-”

“msby setter miya atsumu as yer boyfriend, wow, arent’cha just the luckiest!”

you playfully hit his chest as he laughed.

“keep it up and that’ll be ex-boyfriend.”

atsumu’s eyes lit up as he grabbed your hand again and held it tightly.

“so ya admit it! i’m yer boyfriend!”

you giggled seeing how genuinely excited he was over it.

“for now.” you hummed as he pouted slightly.

you cupped his jaw and leaned to press a soft kiss to his cheek causing heat to rise to his face.

“let’s just, take this slow though okay?”

“don’t tell me that while sittin’ in this car.” he joked as you groaned against him.

you leaned back looking back into his bright eyes as his gaze softened.

“i’m kiddin’, we’ll go as fast as ya want, and i promise not to kill you on the way.”

you snickered as the blond beamed at you.

“i’m holding you to that.” you smiled as atsumu pulled your face in closer once more. leaning forward to better prepare yourself, you allowed yourself to melt into another deep kiss with the man you would now call your boyfriend.

you never saw yourself being with someone who took life at a fast pace. someone who demanded the world’s attention without verbally calling for it. you never saw yourself falling for someone like that.

but here you were, with the man who ticked all of those boxes easily. the type of man you insisted wasn’t your type, turned out to be the blueprint for your exact type; you just weren’t aware of it until miya atsumu insisted you did.

++TAGLIST!@crescenttooru @miss-angel-ash @sarahvvictoria @babierin @fxncyoomi @s0utien @toobsessedsstuff @omibaby @kenkodzu @sugabeaniee @lovesunas @slutawara @bunny-on-crack @shouyouorange @memorableminds @whootwhoot @yikes-buddy @sweetsamus

can we get how Akira and SO would react if someone walked in on the two of them smooching/kissing? nothing too intense, just soft butterfly kisses when they think they're alone? thnx!

This has got to be one of my favourite asks! This sounded so cute and I actually started working on it a couple of weeks ago, I could finally finish it T T If you guys enjoy my work and would like to support my work further, consider supporting me through ko-fi. This is totally optional and does not affect the amount of requests I work on or anything regarding my pieces. Thank you for reading my work regardless and I hope you continue enjoying it!

【 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 】

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐓𝐖: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟕

You sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and relief within the sound escaping your lips as you stretched your arms above your head. You had promised yourself to focus on your studies as this semester was slowly drawing to a close and you couldn’t afford bad grades. It wasn’t your fault when it was much more fun to play games or spend time with your friends; school wasn’t the easiest part of your life after all. Yet when your boyfriend had made his mission to help you out and make your studies less boring, you accepted his offer in a heartbeat. Not that it had been in an offer in the word itself, more so he had exclaimed it one afternoon like it was already sealed, knowing full well that you wouldn’t say no. You had even been excited about studying, eagerly taking a train earlier to Leblanc. Getting good grades and spending time with the person you were most comfortable with was a win-win situation, especially since Akira was pretty good at school. On top of it he was very strict about not studying too much and it made you wonder if that was the reason he was so good at school, never studying too much or not enough. Actually, now that you thought about it, he could be really disciplined if he wanted to.

“Three hours is definitely enough.”, Akira agreed as you yawned and your head lulled to the side to rest against his shoulder. He had wanted to pack your books and notebook for you, but upon seeing you nestle against him like that he froze for a second. He was exhausted as well, though he would never say that to you, brain most likely not bringing out anything smart to the table today, but the smile that rested on your face was worth it. If it meant you’d be clingy with him and he would get to see that smile on your face more he might be able to power through another three hours, even. “More than enough.”, you mumbled as you felt Akira’s cheek press against the top of your head to rest as well. For a moment the room filled with a comfortable silence as you breathed in the mixture of the coffee beans hanging thickly in the air and the cologne Akira was wearing. He felt like a comfortable cushion you could fall asleep on if he’d stayed like this just a little bit longer. “Come here.”, you heard him say as you were swiftly pulled into his lap, almost coming face to face with him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a tad bit taller than you were. “Don’t look at me like that.”, Akira chuckled as your eyes filled with confusion. You weren’t doing anything in particular, not that you would know of it, but your big eyes staring at him still messed with him. “I’m not even looking at you, silly.”, you replied as you came to rest your head against his chest instead, feeling his chuckle vibrate through his chest underneath you. Your studies were long forgotten, the only sound that filled the room was the ticking of the clock above the counter as well as the brewing of freshly made, warm cups of coffee. “Do you want a coffee?”, your boyfriend asked as the minutes of comfortable silence passed by, stroking your hair in a steady rhythm. You shook your head, feeling sleepy and not wanting to ignite your body once more with energy when the day was already coming to a close anyway. “Do you want to stay over?”, Akira asked instead, the slight hesitation apparent in his voice. It wasn’t that you never had stayed over before, but it was still special whenever you would. He didn’t like the thought of you taking the train and walking home from your station if you were starting to get this sleepy already, so his heart would be at ease if you stayed by his side. To his fortune, you nodded against his chest. “Good.”, Akira smiled, “I still have some movies we can watch.”, he added, already getting excited knowing that you could stay like this upstairs for the whole night, if you’d let him.

“Comfortable?”, Akira inquired as he had settled the thick blanket over the both of you, arms wrapped around you as if to say that he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere for the rest of the night. You hummed in content as you kissed his cheek, now that you were propped up against two pillows and had better access to his face. His cheeks were soft against his lips and you were compelled to do it a second, even a third time. Akira didn’t budge as his eyes were glued to the movie he was actually interested in in contrast to you who only saw it as background noise. Nonetheless, he smiled, trying to keep his cool. You grumbled as you kissed him. He reciprocated it and locked eyes with you for a second when your lips parted, but then they were already back to the movie. You weren’t sure if he was trying to mess with you and was doing it on purpose or if the small grin was from the funny conversation that you noticed in the background within the movie, but you were sure that was far from it. He was enjoying your affection deep down and he had fun messing with you, just waiting for you to grow more desperate and get whiny. Lucky for him, you had no energy to fight against that and instead gave in, giving him what he wanted as you took his face in both of your hands and turned it around to make him face you. The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions and you still grew weak, not able to be mad at him and scold him in a light-hearted manner. “Clingy?”, Akira wanted to confirm as his grin spread further, face coming closer to plant a quick kiss to your cheek. “Maybe.”, you muttered under your breath, not wanting to give him the satisfaction and fuel his ego any further as you tilted your head to the side and captured his lips instead. You sighed against him as you parted a few seconds afterwards. You felt your cheeks flush as his lips suddenly connected with your forehead before moving down to your cheek and trailing further to the crook of your neck. Now he was the clingy one forgetting about the movie and focusing on you instead. “Who is the clingy one?”, you taunted as your boyfriend’s demeanor had changed completely, lips pressed to your cheek once more as he swiftly took hold of the remote and turned the volume down. “Shush it.”, was Akira’s answer and you almost giggled at his words, relishing in the fact that you had been able to change his focus to you instead, when his lips sealed yours once more.

The two of you had been so preoccupied with each other, exchanging quick kisses to the softness of your cheeks and lips, that you hadn’t heard an intruder coming upstairs, unknowingly ready to destroy the wholesome moment. You shook violently as you heard somewhen clear his throat in the room, so far gone with your thoughts that the sound had almost scared you. Quickly, you hid in the crook of Akira’s neck and felt relieved when you felt his arms sneak around you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were staying over.”, Sojiro apologized sincerely, feeling a little bit awkward as his eyes were fixated onto the floor for a moment. Akira dismissed it, explaining that it had been a spontaneous idea of his and chatted with his guardian about the evening. You on the other hand wondered how he could look so calm as you glanced up to him. Neither were his cheeks flushed in embarrassment nor the tone in his voice wavering. He simply looked and acted as if nothing had happened or the fact that Sojiro had interrupted you wasn’t concerning at all. You on the other hand didn’t feel the comfortable warmth in your cheeks that you would get from the love and affection that you experienced from your lover, but the uncomfortable when you felt embarrassed or felt like you had done something wrong. You hadn’t even done anything big to begin with, you tried calming your mind since you just had kissed each other a little bit, but it was enough to make your cheeks glow red. You could only be thankful that Akira wasn’t letting go of you nor did Sojiro want to ask you something in particular. “Good night you two.”, you faintly heard Sojiro bid his goodbye over the pounding within your ears.You knew the coast was practically clear now yet you refused to come out of your hiding spot. First of all, it was comfortable and second of all, you weren’t too sure in which mood Akira was. He could be the sweet and loving boyfriend that would take care of you and softly rub your back to get rid of the uneasy feeling you harbored or he could be in his little shit mode - what you liked to call it - and tease you about it. After all, he was unpredictable. “Are you embarrassed?”, Akira asked, sincerity filling his voice that made you give in, clearing your doubts and raising your head to look up at him. Instead of answering his question, you countered it. “Why should I be embarrassed?”, he responded to your question, eyes filled with wonder and innocence that could resemble a little child that didn’t know any better, “It was just Sojiro anyway.” You had to admit to yourself that he was right, but you still couldn’t shake it off. You could only be like this with him when you could let yourself go completely - and that was only possible when you two could be alone.

Except for the movie in the background, silence fell upon you once more as you snuggled into him and tried to shake off the feeling and sleep was slowly welcoming you with open arms. You smiled in content, simply happy that you were fortunate enough to fall asleep in Akiras arms when he spoke up out of a sudden, the one thing you had thought about earlier happening anyway, “You don’t know but, you’re actually pretty cute when you get embarrassed.”

Your event is so cool and unique, I just saw it pop up in the tags and would like to request Kazuha with loach pearls and luminescent spines. I think it'd be very sweet.

Promise Me

a/n | aw thank you anon! and you couldn’t have picked a better combination imo for the event this was so fun to imagine and write. i got way too invested in the backstory but how can i not kazuha is just so—🥺❤️ i really hope i did this justice! (art credits: @/maiaiiaiiai on deviantart).

warnings | self-contained slow burn fic, unedited

genre | fluff, childhood crushes + love confession

word count | 3k

pairing | kazuha x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

In those wondrous days so many years ago, your messy hair bounced freely, your toothy smile often turned into infectious giggles, and your eyes were bright with endless possibilities. The puddles of a rainy spring day were portals to a new world waiting to be explored. The shells washed ashore after a midsummer storm hid the secrets to an underwater palace. The piles of golden-hued leaves carried on the autumnal wind were your unpredictable guides to distant lands hidden between trees.

The world was your oyster, and you had the best adventurer as your loyal partner through thick and thin. Though, you wouldn’t know it just by looking at him.

He was the quiet type, not one to easily approach others for help or fall prey to rash decisions. No, he chose his words carefully and sparingly, weaving the most eloquent phrases or witty replies. You always wondered where his mind was behind those scarlet orbs, but it was apparent he never let his guard down no matter how lax he seemed.

He was much more attuned to the sounds of nature. He could hear an intruder from a mile away, smell the faint traces of an abandoned campfire from the night before, and feel the breeze warn him of a distant storm. His observant eye made him an excellent traveling partner, indeed.

Your mother would only let you venture as far as the outskirts of the rural village you called home. But that never stopped the both of you from wandering through the Inazuman wilderness until nightfall, a tattered leather backpack full of the day’s lucky finds strapped to your shoulders and a rusty sword sheathed on your friend’s hip.

You found it quite fitting when you learned of his name the first time you asked him to help carry your precious treasures home. Somehow this mysterious, cream-haired boy had guessed the direction of your hidden trove before you even told him. ‘When I am lost, the winds whisper the way forward,’ he had declared matter-of-factly to your astonished face.

Kaedehara Kazuha. Ten thousand maple leaves, painted with the warm colors of wisdom.

“Here we are!” you announced excitedly, rushing to the small opening in a huge tree with lots of big sprawling roots twisted through the dirt. You quickly stuffed your finds into the little tree hollow next to your myriad of unique rocks and fossils. “Welcome to my secret base, Kazuha. You’re my first visitor ever! So don’t even think about telling anyone else about this place, alright?”

The skinny boy hummed in response, taking in the vast green canopy of the tree. There was a makeshift treehouse stationed high up and he spotted a worn hammock draped from a particularly sturdy branch. “You picked an ideal spot.”

That was the fateful day you and Kazuha became friends.

You were surprised to discover that his imagination was just as wild and boundless as yours, conjuring up far-fetched fantasies of ancient prophecies and protecting you from harm like the gallant knights from your storybooks. He loved roaming the countryside with you. Hand in hand, you’d rush to a shiny treasure that caught your eye from afar and Kazuha would laugh merrily at your adorable antics as you dragged him along.

Sometimes your eager curiosity would get the best of you, suddenly putting you and Kazuha face-to-face with a dangerous foe. When anything dared to attack you, Kazuha would instantly place himself between you and the assailant, dull blade ready to defend you as his most precious friend. Thankfully that didn’t happen often. The worst enemy you encountered was a buried Dendro slime that grew angry after you so rudely stomped on its sprouts in a hurry.

At the end of the day, you were both just lonely kids desperate for an escape from the monotony of reality. Growing up was a scary notion and you weren’t planning on giving up your free-spirited lifestyle anytime soon—or ever.

There was one memory you cherished deeply, when you and Kazuha spent hours recuperating from the day’s excursion in the lofty treehouse. The warm sun hugged the horizon for miles on end as it sank lower and lower, its rays washing the sky in breathtaking watercolor hues. A few of the brightest stars were barely visible in the heavens, and the collective sound of crickets stretching their legs filled the air.

Your treehouse wasn’t anything special, just a small wooden platform with railing. It didn’t have a roof, which was perfect for watching the movements of the night sky amid plenty of sheets and comfy pillows splayed out on the floor. There was no hustle and bustle of the city to interrupt the tranquility of nature. No parents to come running after you, chastising you for who-knows-what.

It was just you and Kazuha, and you preferred it that way.

You recounted the thrilling and unexpected parts of your trek, waving your hands in the air animatedly as Kazuha watched amused. He would poke fun at how you mistook an innocent Geo slime for a idle rock to sit on or how your terrible Hilichurlian impression landed you both in an unusual predicament. You’d deny it and try to brush him off, only for Kazuha to tickle your sides until you admitted to your silly shenanigans.

“Okay, okay, Kazu!” you pleaded between bouts of hard laughter, trying to push his hands away from your sensitive torso.

He stopped as you asked, his own giggles happily humming on his lips as he turned on his side to fully face you, leaning his chubby cheek on his hand. When you met his fond gaze, your heart leapt and your tummy felt strange, almost giddy.

“There are many lands left unseen, many secrets yet uncovered, and many treasures to be had in this world. Like a bird learning to fly, you’ve inspired me to soar beyond the nest and into the unknown,” Kazuha smiled earnestly, casting his expression downward in contented reminiscence with a dusting of pink on his skin. “You are my best friend, (Y/N), and I want to travel the world with you. No matter how long it takes or what happens.”

Immediately your face brightens enthusiastically and Kazuha breathes a small sigh of relief as if it was difficult to finally express himself to you. His proposal had you beaming at the moon hanging above, imagining what it would be like to explore each of the seven nations with Kazuha. With a pleased sigh, your eyes sparkle with the possibilities of the future. “Me too. I wouldn’t have it any other way… Pinky promise me? We’ll be friends forever?”

Nodding, the young boy assured, “I promise.”

Then eventually came the fateful day you didn’t show up to the old maple tree as usual. Kazuha had seen you yesterday, softly bidding you goodnight when you had to return home for dinner. It was a day just like any other, and his mind was already preoccupied with the prospect of tomorrow’s adventures that were just a night’s rest away.

Were you simply running late? Did you get caught up with household chores? Could you have fallen ill this morning?

Kazuha patiently waited under the tree for you to arrive at any moment, but that moment never came. A naturally laid-back person, he decided to assume you were busy and stopped by your house. He took a sneaky glance in the window, but you weren’t there either. Typically your mother stayed to take care of you and the house, yet she wasn’t in the kitchen cleaning up breakfast. In fact, no one was home. And it was barren.

“Excuse me,” Kazuha politely inquired of your neighbor, worried that something bad may have happened to you or your family. “Do you know when the (L/N)s will return home?”

“Oh, dear,” the old woman drawled out, a saddened look on her wrinkled features. “They won’t be coming back anytime soon. I’m afraid they left Inazuma late in the evening yesterday, hun.”

“L-left? For good?” Kazuha’s chest felt tight, his heart cracking at the thought of you no longer with him—his closest traveling partner had simply vanished into thin air. What about the adventure you planned for today? What of your treasures left behind in the old tree hollow? Who would whisk Kazuha away into the vast wilderness searching for fantastical dreams the way you did?

What about the promise you both made?

The awful creak of the elderly woman’s rocking chair snapped Kazuha out of his spiraling thoughts. She nodded feebly, “Yes, dear, I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t bear to stand idle any longer. Before he knew it, his feet had taken him far away, as far as his poor legs would take him with tears quietly streaming down his cheeks. Far away from anything that reminded him of your presence that had been there just the day before. He ran and he ran through forest and thickets until he collapsed at the beach’s edge, ruby-red eyes glassy and blurred.

All he could do is hope that fate would be kind enough to allow your paths to cross again in some corner of the world.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Liyue Harbor was unlike anything you had ever seen. Streets lined with hundreds of different local businesses, sidewalks crowded with a sea of faces you’d never recognize, and buildings towering several stories connected by strings of paper lanterns. There was never a dull moment with all the holidays, festivals, or competitions going on. It was the biggest city you had ever visited, stretching along the southern coast of Liyue into the huge ocean that separated it from Inazuma.

It had been years since your parents forced you to move to the land of the Geo Archon. Your heart still aches miserably when you’re reminded of everything you left behind, especially the one and only person who lifted you up when the world often weighed you down. You remember how you sobbed so hard and resented your parents for taking your best friend away from you.

You never anticipated that one day might be the final adventure with your beloved comrade. You weren’t given the chance to offer Kazuha a proper goodbye. No exchanging addresses to write one another, no farewell gifts to remember each other by. You couldn’t even stop by the maple tree to pick up your collection as a token of your many adventures.

You always wondered what Kazuha had thought or felt after you left the country out of the blue. It hurt you so bad to think of him. Who was there to guide Kazuha across the treacherous terrain if not you? Who would be the one to help him find rare treasures right beneath his feet? Who would keep him company despite his solitary nature?

Worrying over Kazuha was pointless, you had eventually come to terms with. You’d probably never see him again. Your parents tried to encourage you to make friends in Liyue, but none of them were as eccentric in all the right ways like Kazuha. As you grew older, you became an outcast. It was difficult making friends in a foreign city you never wanted to go to in the first place. City folk wouldn’t understand your love for exploring nature anyway so you busied yourself with work from the Adventurer’s Guild, where at least you could still pursue your passion.

Today Katheryne had tasked you with picking up and delivery a large shipment for Miss Ying’er and her perfume shop from the Crux Fleet. You were quite used to being a postal carrier since the Adventurer’s Guild refused to give you scouting missions because of your insistence on working alone. Apparently Beidou had made the perilous voyage through Inazuma’s tempest for some special circumstance, which included the flora and seedlings Miss Ying’er requested.

You were in the harbor marketplace when the huge ship pulled into the docks, weighing its anchor into the sea. Already, you could see the crew gathering wooden crates and vases, preparing to unload them onto the cobblestone sidewalk. You waved to Beidou, who acknowledged that you were to pick up some of the items.

“Long time no see, (Y/N)!” the captain yelled from aboard her ship. “If you need a helping hand, I’m sure one of my guys wouldn’t mind.”

“Hey, Beidou! Thank you!” you called back, turning your attention to the crewmen placing more crates on the wooden dock.

Suddenly you spotted one with a large flower emblem stamped on the side, so you reach out to ask for the light-haired crew mate to hand it to you. “Oh! Actually, I need that crate please.”

“Of course,” he replied, lifting the crate of flowers back up and turning to you.

As you attempted to position your hands to hold the crate, you spare a passing glance at the man and instantaneously your body freezes in place. The flowers felt unusually heavy in your arms as your lip quivered and heart raced at the impossible revelation before you.

“(Y/N)?” his soothing voice broke the silence. “Is it really you?”

The mysterious crew mate’s soft gaze bore into you with a peculiar familiarity, like he could see the years of repressed thoughts, feelings, and longing rush back through you. Was this man before you actually who you think it is? How could he bear to speak to you after your sudden disappearance? The idea of looking him in the eyes again, facing so much guilt but also so much happiness at the same time left you utterly terrified.

Slowly, you gathered the courage to meet his patient expression. You couldn’t believe he was right here in front of you, just handing you a crate of flowers. He could’ve been anywhere in Teyvat, for all you knew. But he was here with you again, after everything.

You noticed how his hair had grown much longer, tied back into a lazy ponytail, with a long scarlet highlight on the side. He had the appearance of a wanderer with a much nicer blade resting on his hip than you last remembered. There was something different about the way he carried himself, but you couldn’t quite place it. When you saw a glowing Anemo vision clipped next to a faded one, you understood.

“Kazuha?” you breathed in shock, uncertain of his reaction.

Swiftly, he set aside the crate and embraced you in a surprisingly tight hug, holding you so close as if to keep you with him a bit longer—to make sure you were real. Kazuha buried his nose deep into your shoulder and you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back in small motions. You smelled like home, a nostalgic reminder of all those days spent exploring the secrets of Inazuma in his distant childhood.

Quickly separating himself from you in embarrassment, Kazuha bowed apologetically. “I-I’m sorry, I just… It’s you. I’ve missed you dearly, comrade. I never imagined I would find you in Liyue after all these years.”

“No, no,” you cried frantically, shaking your head. “K-Kazuha, if anything, I should be apologizing to you. I… I left you. My parents wouldn’t let me say goodbye. I didn’t even have time to write a note to you. I—”

You began to panic from so many conflicting emotions flooding you, hot tears threatening to spill and an anxious lump restricting your voice. Kazuha instantly reached out to pull your hands away from your distraught face gently, whispering to you, “(Y/N), dove, there’s no need to cry over me. I forgive you, okay? Let’s take care of these crates and we can catch up.”

Once you both delivered Miss Ying’er’s shipment, you invited Kazuha to watch the twilight descending over Liyue Harbor from the cliffs north of the city. You could not stop your heart from thumping with excitement, or maybe anxiety, every time you accidentally brushed hands trekking up the mountainous path. It was as if there weren’t years of separation, and you were silently thankful that Kazuha was an understanding person.

When you reached the ideal spot, you sat in the wild flowers and grass together overlooking Liyue. The crickets were waking up, and you were reminded of your favorite evening with Kazuha so long ago. How he teased and tickled you, a cute blush tinting his cheeks, promising to stay by your side forever. You wondered if he held those memories as fondly as you.

“I’m happy to see you faring well,” Kazuha hums thoughtfully, reveling in the warmth of the setting sun. He peeks an eye open to catch your reddened face, smiling that clever smile of his. “My memory pales in comparison to your lovely visage.”

“And you still have such a poetic tongue,” you roll your eyes and laugh lightly, leaning toward him teasingly to nudge his shoulder with yours. “I always loved that about you. I missed the way you’d talk about our adventures with your pretty words.”

“You know, I’ve always kept one of our treasures with me. Would you like to see it?” he asked.

Your face brightens, looking Kazuha over to see if you recognized any embellishments that might resemble one of your precious tokens. “Really? Yes, show me.”

From beneath his clothes, he pulled out a black necklace with a single piece of polished jade resting against his chest. He fingered the stone affectionately before turning to you, who had leaned even closer to take a look at the treasure. Though you cannot tell, Kazuha’s heart leapt too.

“I like to think this little charm brought me a sense of peace. I didn’t want to forget you,” he admitted sheepishly, letting his voice trail off softly. For a moment, his lips parted but he dismissed the idea with an embarrassed shake of his head.

“Kazuha,” you call to him delicately, attempting to catch sight of his wine-crimson irises beneath his fluffy bangs. “I’m glad we found each other again. I don’t think I could stand to be without you again.”

“Then let’s never part again, dove,” Kazuha grabs both of your hands in his and caresses them lovingly, searching your eyes for any sign of discontent or hesitation at his advance. Although his nerves make him feel shaky, he has to put his mind and heart to rest once and for all. “On one condition…”

“Let me call you mine.”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

annotations of love

summary: although you're always looking out for any mistakes he makes, you think you've found the perfect rival in kazuha. but when you begin to spend more time with him, you begin to realize he's also the perfect love interest... after all, why else would someone lend you an personally annotated book?

pairings: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

tags: enemiestolovers!au, modern!au

genre: fluff, humor, slight angst

a/n: i've been having something of an obsession with sylvia plath even tho we finished reading her work last november. i love it and i will not stop talking about her potrayal of women and will include it in a fic about kazuha. god, i just want to have an academic rival who will convince me to read an annotated book so that i can fall in love with them. okay, enjoy this brainrot <3 also ps: i enjoyed writing this kazuha a lot so if you have any requests i will be more than happy to cater to them :)

🍁

“So, class how did we like reading Sylvia Plath?” Miss Aranaki, your Literature teacher, crosses her arms across her chest as she regards the twenty or so of you sitting in front of you, “Any thoughts?”

“I didn’t like it much, actually,” a voice pipes up and without seeing, you know who it is, a groan escaping your lips. Aranaki gives an amused laugh, “Kazuha. Please do elaborate on why you dislike Plath so much.”

Unwillingly, your eyes travel until they come to rest on the mostly-platinum-blonde-headed boy who has his copy of The Bell Jar dismissed on its back by his elbow. “Well, to start with, her poetry is too easily interpretable once you know everything about her enough and the themes are usually just the same old feminist, complaining about privilege and children. Although I must say the touch with the cheating husband in The Rival was interesting, but that was as good as it got.”

Before Kaedehara Kazuha can continue, you, who’s had Plath’s novel clutched tightly in your hands, interrupt him. “Excuse me, to me it sounds like you’re complaining about having to read about a complex female experience. It’s a shame to see men like you roaming around in the campus’ feminist activism clubs when in class you cannot tolerate the slightest shred of powerful women in action.”

Kazuha meets your eyes in a flash, a familiar smile in place - one that is almost friendly, but at the last moment, turns smug. “I’m sorry if I came across as discarding Plath’s unique persona - but I just refuse to credit her writing simply because she’s a woman. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, don’t you think, Y/N?”

“Please,” you scoff, ears a little red from exasperation, “Her poems are not easily interpreted, Kazuha, you’re just overly entrenching them in context. You can’t make Plath’s poems all about her factual life if you want to take anything from them. The Rival is not definitely about her bastard husband’s mistress - it could just as easily be about her mother if you try to keep your mind open.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to speak but Aranaki cuts him off, “Alright, alright, the two of you. Always a pleasure to hear you go back and forth. Some very valid points have been made. But remember, this class consists of 18 other students. Let’s give allow everyone to speak.”

“Either you really were not paying attention to what we’ve been saying in class, or your brain is simply broken,” you stand up, following her out of the class.

“I don’t know about that, Y/N. You both seemed like you were having a lot of fun-”

“I don’t know about that, Y/N. You both seemed like you were having a lot of fun-”

“Fun? Hu Tao, that man is borderline misogynistic and you think-”

“I think I deserve a little more credit than a borderline misogynist, my dear Y/N.”

You stop in your tracks with a sigh when you spot Kazuha behind you, bag slung lazily over his back. He’s holding his copy of The Bell Jar by the very edge, you notice much to your dismay. “You’re going to have to work harder if you want to seem like you actually care about reading feminist work from writers who are actual women. Not just old horny men—”

“Please don’t tell me you’re still holding that time I praised Murakami against me?” Kazuha’s brows furrow, looking almost genuinely concerned about what you think of him. You roll your eyes, catching the ill-covered laugh that leaves Hu Tao, who has been observing the two of you silently.

“No, but you really don’t think Murakami’s flat female characters, who by the way only function to serve the lonely loser men, are anywhere near the same kind of writing as Plath’s honest depiction—” You cut yourself off when you catch Hu Tao throwing you a suggestive look and scoff, “Never mind, I don’t have time to have this conversation. Let’s just go, Hu Tao.”

“But—” You promptly block Kazuha’s attempt to probably retort by taking Hu Tao’s arm and marching off, carrying a growing a feeling of doubt in your chest.

🍁

“That will be $15, please.” You nod at the cashier, internally crying at how expensive a single coffee was. You feel yourself cry even louder when you rummage through your wallet to only find a total of $10.

“Um, sorry, just a moment,” you feel yourself beginning to panic, ready to just about be hit by lightning, “I couldv’e sworn I saw another—”

“Here, I’m paying for them.” You jump up at the voice beside you and you swear to God if this morning could get any worse, it’d have to be because Kazuha stepped in to save you from some kind of financial crisis that would’ve inevitably lead into a public mental breakdown.

“W-What? No, I can pay for myself— ”Thank you for buying from us. We hope to see you again.”

You’d rather not the hold up the rest of the line any longer so you step away, pulling Kazuha with you, with a scowl on your face. You shove the $10 you’d been holding into his palm which he looks at in confusion, “I’ll pay you back the rest of it later, I—”

“No, you really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” the boy smiles, a soft comforting look in his eyes that you’ve never encountered before. It annoys you.

“Honestly, would you stop cutting me off all the time?” Kazuha shuts up with a serious raise of the brown, “I was very much capable of paying for myself back there but thanks. Bye.”

You intend to distance yourself from him as much just because you’re equally embarrassed and confused by his presence, especially at having been caught in a moment of somewhat vulnerability by him of all people. You take a seat in the cafe by the window, hoping to ease your worries with a productive rush.

Of course, the universe, and specifically, one crimson-streaked head, has other plans. “What the fuck are you doing?” you question as Kazuha settles into the seat across from you, resting his bag beside him, hands coming to drum against the table - the table that you’d taken to get away from specifically him.

“I’m doing what you’re doing. Studying,” he says, pulling out his laptop, nonchalant as if the two of you aren’t after each other’s throats in class all the time. You’re actually speechless as he actually starts typing away, eyes on the screen. You let out a frustrated sigh at his behavior, unable to just ignore his presence, a weakness of yours you absolutely despise.

“Kazuha, I think you’ve asserted your compassion enough for a day. You don’t have to continue acting like you don’t actually hate me,” your voice threatens to falter when Kazuha looks up with wide eyes.

“What do you— But I don’t hate you,” Kazuha replies, not losing a second of time after you’ve spoken. You shake your head at him, a headache imminent, as you stand up. “Wait- where are you going?”

“Somewhere else. See you in class, Kazuha. Leave me alone or I’ll report you.”

🍁

You suppose you feel kind of bad about the recent encounters you’ve had with Kazuha. You only met him in class, first in a course called The Graphic Novel where you had your first argument with him (you wanted to focus on the postmodern themes of V for Vendetta, while Kazuha was overly obsessed with the art and a specific sequence of events). From there, it just seemed like the two of you couldn’t get away from each other - next it was a creative course about nonfiction where you found yourself competing with him to see who could impress the famously cold teacher.

Before you’d known, you’d settled into a sort of rhythm with Kazuha where you’d each challenge and infuriate each other, always ready to pounce. It was surprisingly an interesting part of your education - maybe even the most interesting, since you hardly were able to spend a lot of time doing anything other than work on essays and study for the next thing. But recently, you were feeling more... bitter? around him. It was unsettling, especially when suddenly it seemed like Kazuha was capable of more emotions outside of disdain for you. You weren’t stupid enough to not realize you were having fun but when Hu Tao had so explicitly pointed it out... it almost felt wrong. Like you’d been lying to yourself somehow.

You groan as you zone back into reality, coming to terms with the fact that you had made no progress with the last assignment of the Plath course. It has been a few weeks since the course ended but Aranaki had sent out a final feedback-slash-evaluative essay question asking you to talk about a favorite text from Plath. It is optional, you recall, but you physically cannot forgo the opportunity to do extra work. You hit your head in thought, wondering what you are to do with yourself.

“Having trouble picking a favorite?”

You are not proud of the squeak that leaves you in surprise as you jump around in your seat. “Kazuha! You fucking— Stop sneaking up on people in the library! I swear that’s so insensitive.”

Kazuha, clad in a red sweatshirt that matches the red streak in his hair, sits down besides you with an amused laugh. You’re met with a sweet almond scent as he shifts closer to peek at your screen. “Sorry,” he whispers, “You’re writing about Ariel? I’m surprised.”

“Why? Don’t want me writing about the same thing as you?” You gesture toward his bag, which reveals the corner of a sheet with the essay question, “I’m sure you wrote a whole pretentious thing about how shallow and trite Plath’s poetry is.” The boy pins you with an unreadable look as he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you.

What is he so serious about?

“You don’t actually think I’m a woman-hater, do you?” You are tempted to retaliate with a compilation of all the times he was even remotely dismissive of a female author, but you cannot bring yourself to the longer you look at Kazuha. His eyes are downcast and don’t meet yours when you give a preliminary laugh of ridicule, which greatly worries you. Though you find it hard to believe, Kazuha seems genuinely hurt at the idea of you perceiving him as someone against women.

“Oh, well, not really. But you did seem slightly on the wrong side when you dismissed Plath’s experiences like that. And then, making her seem like she was entirely about her hatred for her husband wasn’t a very good look, either.” You try to stay in character without actually hurting Kazuha’s feelings but he seems crestfallen either way. You begin to feel bad for some reason when he pulls out a few sheets of paper from his bag, before handing you one.

“And what is this?” You raise your brow questioningly and all Kazuha replies with is, “Read this.” You look down at the sheet and find that it is a print-out of Plath’s poem, The Munich Mannequins. Your course on Plath didn’t include this particular poem because there wasn’t much time but regardless, you’ve read the poem enough times to not have to go through it again. What catches your attention is the little scribbles in green around the printed text.

It’s Kazuha’s annotations of the poem, you realize, and already find yourself somewhat moved. You know for a fact that Kazuha does not annotate something he doesn’t find truly meaningful. “Hmm,” you look back at Kazuha with a smile that is completely unlike you. But you can hardly help it, “Your analysis of the metaphor of the mannequins is... insightful, although I don’t agree with it.”

Kazuha’s dullness suddenly melts away when you speak, a bright grin in its place. “I’m glad you think so. I realized I was spending so much effort in trying to find out what Plath actually wanted to convey that in the end, I didn’t even have my own interpretations. And looking back at it, her work is actually pretty cool.”

This time you laugh, teasingly nudging Kazuha’s shoulder, “Way to go with the academic language, Kazuha.” Your laughter only grows louder when the boy’s cheeks color slightly pink. “But I’m really happy that you were able to appreciate Plath. I think maybe we found something we agree on.”

He nods, his usual easy smile returning, “I have to admit that I only gave Plath another chance because I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking I was a borderline misogynist.” You feel yourself flush and you cough to cover it up, “Still can’t believe you were so bothered by that comment.”

“Of course, I was,” Kazuha says matter-of-factly, “You said it so seriously. And then that day in the cafe, you seemed to truly hate me. You even accused me of hating you. I felt like I’d done something unforgivable.”

You grimace in guilt. “Sorry about that,” you pat his back hesitantly, “I was just a bit in my head back then. I don’t actually hate you. Or think that you hate me.”

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to have you stop talking to me, I think some life-giving part of me would die.”

🍁

Here’s the thing: you know how you’ve hardly been able to do anything outside of worry about your grades and keep track of your deadlines? Yes, that meant you hadn’t even enough time to have crushes, or even think about who you’re attracted. Which is why you’re caught in some real fucking trouble when you realize you like Kazuha.

Since your conversation with him in the library, something had changed between the two of you. You still made sure to battle each other fiercely in class, no doubt, but when you weren’t in class, you were actually able to hold a civil conversation. In fact, sometimes your conversations outside of class were more enjoyable than your arguments and disagreements, given that those same dissents would often turn into inside jokes outside of class.

It started with Kazuha asking you to peer-review an essay for another class (he wouldn’t dare to ask your help with a common assignment, that meant war) and you getting impressed again by his ability to analyze and argue. Slowly, it became a ritual for you to meet Kazuha after classes to work on something together, which took more time than required because you’d be bothering each other the whole time, chattering away loud enough that the librarian had banned your entrance in the library. So now you met him on the college lawn where your time together almost felt romantic.

“God, I hate myself,” you mumble into your hands as you cringe at your internal monologue. Hu Tao who’s keeping you company while you wait for Kazuha, laughs knowingly, “Stop hating on yourself for having feelings, Y/N. Believe it or not, it’s normal.”

“I know, but not for me! I’ve had like one romantic experience before and it involved hand-holding.”

“Hey, hand-holding can be pretty intimate, too,” she retorts, frowning, “I’m sure if you tried it with Kazuha, you’d actually combust on the spot.”

“Keep it down, Hu Tao, this is not exactly something I’m proud of—”

“What are you not proud of?” You freeze as Kazuha comes into sight from behind you but relax when you examine his expression and see nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nothing, just her usual spiel about hating life,” Hu Tao covers for you as she rises from next to you, smirking as she pushes Kazuha in her spot. He falls all too close to you, head hitting your shoulder.

“Careful!” You scowl at Hu Tao as you steady Kazuha with a hand on his back. She winks at you as she turns to leave, “See ya for dinner tomorrow, stupid.”

Kazuha chuckles beside you and you can feel the sound vibrate through your hand, still warm against his back, “You must be really close to her if she can walk away alive after calling you stupid.”

You cough a little as you are suddenly reminded of the proximity, thanks to how Kazuha has made no move to remove his head from against your shoulder, even though you’d retracted your hand from his back long ago. “I’m not that easily offended, you know.”

Kazuha looks amused as he shifts to look at you, much to your chagrin because fuck! you’re still way too close to him so now you’re basically sharing the same air. “So if I called you stupid—?”

“Don’t even dream of it,” you push his head off and he pulls away, laughing lowly. You sigh in relief now that you’re at a distance that won’t kill you as Kazuha pulls out a red book from inside his jacket pocket.

“What book is that?”

Kazuha holds it for you with a hesitant smile, “It’s for you, actually.” You hum questioningly as you take it and scoff when you see the title. Sputnik Sweetheart. By Haruki Murakami.

“Before you chase me away for bringing Murakami in your sights, listen to me, okay?” he says, with a hand on your elbow and you fall silent, a little nervous. “I think you should read it because this book actually has complex female characters, unlike all his other work. There’s a lesbian relationship in there and a very unexpected plot twist, too. You might like it... I think.”

The amount of effort it takes to not scream on the top of your lungs because Kazuha’s cheeks are dusted adorably red as he rants to you about the book, his eyes not meeting you and you can’t take it because he’s so shy about it all. You silently open to a random page and you swear you die right there when you see notes in pencil along the margin.

“You’ve annotated this?” you ask through a small smile. Kazuha rubs the back of his neck, “Well, yes. I usually annotate my novels. I hope you don’t mind. Think of it as having a really long conversation with me?”

You chuckle as hit Kazuha’s forehead with the book lightly, “Why the fuck would I want to have a conversation with you about a book? I’m bound to give myself a migraine.” You bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning as you continue, “But oh, well. Since you went back to Plath for me, I think I’ll give Murakami a chance.”

Kazuha pumps a fist in the air, beyond delighted, “Yes! I promise you’re going to love me after this.”

🍁

“Kazuha, I have to something to tell you,” you say, hands clutched behind your back. Kazuha turns away from the conversation he’d just been having with Aether to give you a warm look.

“What is it?” He waves goodbye to Aether, grinning when you reveal the red book he’d lent you a few weeks ago. Kazuha jumps up and down as his hands cup to hold yours and you can’t help but jump excitedly with him. “Did you finish? What did you think of it? How was his description of Miu and Sumiere? Oh, what was your reaction to Miu’s backstory?”

You laugh as you pause to form your response. “Well, I actually did not hate it. I actually enjoyed his descriptions of the women—” Kazuha squeals in excitement as you continue, “But! There was man still, you know. And his presence as the narrator of everything was a bit suffocating. So, not perfect. But dammit, the parts about Miu watching herself that night in the park and everything Sumiere writes in her letters - Ahhh, that was just amazingly disorienting.”

“So?” Kazuha grins at you, shaking you by the shoulders, “You don’t hate Murakami anymore? I succeed in convincing you that he wrote one decent novel? You love me?”

You successfully ignore the last question he asks as you reply, “I guess I don’t hate him but I can’t say he’s a good writer still. He’s definitely got some dimension but he needs to stop putting men at the center of his universes.”

Kazuha nods as he takes back the book from you, “That’s fair enough, I suppose. I didn’t expect to—” he pauses, a new kind of smile blossoming on his face as he fans through the pages, “Oh, what’s this? Did you make notes on the book?”

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten about that. “Oh, right. I thought it would be funny to respond to some of your annotations. You like some really strange paragraphs, you know.” You quickly take away the book from him before he can grin at anymore of your notes, “I made them on sticky notes so that I can remove them. I just forgot.” You begin removing the loosely glued pieces of paper when Kazuha snatches away the novel back, holding it away from your grasp.

“No! Don’t do that. I want to read them. I can’t lose this opportunity to actually get to read your annotations,” he says, a full-fledged blush on his cheeks for some reason.

You laugh awkwardly, “F-fine, weirdo. Just remove them after you read them.”

“Why would I do that?” Kazuha hugs the book protectively with an annoyingly smug smile on his face, “I’m cherishing this for the rest of eternity.”

You turn around at that, clutching at your chest as if in pain, heart racing, “W-Whatever. I’m going to study. Come if you want.”

An hour later, you fall back into the grass with a whine because you really cannot get your mind off of Kazuha, which was not exactly aided by the fact that the boy was right next to you, opting to bump knees with you as he managed to concentrate with no issues.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” You open your eyes to find Kazuha leaning over you, arm placed next to your head. You watch as his forehead is curtained by his hair and you pout as you silently flick at a chunk of his hair. “I don’t know why you even bother to tie your hair if it’s all over the place anyway.”

Kazuha shrugs with a playful smile and is about to reply before he cuts himself off, “Oh, there’s something in hair, I think.” You reach for your hair but Kazuha beats you to it, leaning closer to your face as he gently plucks off the said something off your hair, holding it up so you can see. “It was a leaf. Heh.”

You reach for your hair self-consciously and are surprised when you find Kazuha’s fingers through the strands. You pull away just as quick you touched him but his hand chases after you, coming to capture it in his, his fingers resting through yours.

“Mhmm,” Kazuha hums delicately, face hovering dangerously close to yours, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You make an embarrassing choking sound before you place a hand against his chest, pushing with little effort. You avert your gaze as you speak, “S-Stop doing that.”

You can’t see it but Kazuha’s smile weakens as he asks, “Stop doing what?”

“Stuff like this. Like what you did back there with my annotations and- and- right now, this hand-holding stuff. It’s not funny, you know.”

“I don’t think it’s funny either, Y/N,” he says, “I’m always serious about you. So would you please look at me?” Your hand twitches in Kazuha’s as you glance at him and instantly turn away when you see him gazing at you. He does look serious, intense in fact as he looks at you.

His fingers tighten around yours when you suddenly feel a cold pressure against your ear. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you realize it’s Kazuha’s nose pressed up against your neck. “K-Kazuha, cut it out—”

“I like you, Y/N,” he whispers softly, “Actually, that’s an understatement. I really, really like you. I’ve never been so excited to have arguments with someone and I’ve never cared so much about what someone else thought about a book. You’re the smartest person I’ve met.”

You can’t believe your ears, though they turn red anyway as Kazuha pulls away to look at you. “I think you’re so beautiful. I can hardly think right when I’m around you.”

You feel breathless when Kazuha looks at you like that, with an intimacy of a lover and fumble to reply, “I- I like you, too, Kazuha. You’re cool, I guess. And ridiculously handsome.” You mumble the last part but he seems to hear it, probably because you’re so close.

“Would you go out with me?” His eyes are swimming with adoration when you finally meet them. When you nod, a gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of Kazuha’s lips against your cheek. “Kiss me already, would you?” This time, you feel his laughter through your own bones, strong and loving.

🍁

Bonus:

“I really wish you would go easy on me in class, dove,” Kazuha complains against your lips and you pull away to laugh at the slight pout in his features. You run a hand through his open hair, arranging the red strands together, “No way, babe. Sorry but sometimes, you’re just wrong.”

He deflates against your neck and you pull him inside the blankets with you with a chortle, “But if you want, we can read Mrs Dalloway together for class?” He instantly perks up, arms coming to hugging you tight, “I would love that. I want to hear your reading voice. We can even play the parts to make it more realistic.”

You groan, “No, we’re not doing that, Kazu. Please don’t make me regret this.” Regret it you do later that week, when Kazuha proudly declares to the whole class, including Miss Aranaki, that the two of you had read the assigned reading together.

when he lets you wear his hat

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: dark humor (just in the beginning)

word count: 1168

a/n: i am a firm believer that scara loves dark humor yes i might be projecting but nobody can change my mind ( ˘ ³˘)♥ enjoy!

your unwavering patience is something you’ve always taken pride in. 

there have only been a few instances where you’ve lost your cool in the fleeting years of your life, always feeling a certain kind of superiority in situations where you can hold your own even if it would be reasonable to let go for a moment. 

but now, after weeks of nonstop backhanded comments and complaints from your traveling companion, it is through sheer willpower alone that you haven’t turned around and tried to bite his head off every time he opens his mouth. 

“you seriously can’t swim?” the wanderer asks from somewhere behind you. “didn’t you ever have fun as a kid?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and keep up your brisk pace while he snickers to himself like it truly is the funniest thing in the world. the unforgiving desert sun is hot against your back and the fine grains of sand that keep finding their way into your shoes feel like they’re rubbing your skin raw, leaving you sweaty and miserable. 

the one traveling with you doesn’t share these sentiments, hardly even taking notice to uncomfortable sensations anymore, and thus remains entirely unbothered, much to your annoyance. 

he almost seemed understanding at first, suggesting you take a dip in a nearby oasis to cool off before you overheat, but one insignificant mention of your swimming skills, or lack thereof, had turned into him making fun of you for it before you could even begin to regret bringing it up. 

the wanderer doesn’t relent even when you keep ignoring him. “surely it’s not because you’re afraid, right? what’s so scary about water?” 

“quit it.” you warn him sharply, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw begins to ache. of course, you’re already expecting him to do the opposite. 

“wait, don’t tell me.” he starts, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “nobody bothered to teach you? mom just too busy to make time for you?”

this has you freezing in your tracks, coming to a halt beside him, and before you can even process the thought going through your head-

“at least i actually had one.”

the silence that follows is deafening as you snap your head up to stare at him, his expression of shock mirroring your own. guilt starts twisting around in your stomach as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the joyous laughter that erupts out of your traveling companion the next second chases it away as he hunches over and cackles.  

“that was incredible,” he gasps out. 

you narrow your eyes at the sight but you can’t help the smile that starts tugging at your lips seeing him thrown into such a genuine fit of giggles, the sound melodic and tugging at your heartstrings. “why are you laughing?”

he lifts an arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead as he starts to calm down, leaving you with a bundle of conflicting emotions tangled together in your chest. 

“i never thought you had it in you.” he explains, sounding almost… proud? there’s an undeniable glow of satisfaction on his face, and it’s only then that you realize, this entire time, his goal was to get you to play along. 

“looks like you really can teach an old dog new tricks,” the wanderer shrugs, his usual shit-eating smirk returning to his lips. 

“i- wha?” you sputter incredulously. “haven’t you been around for centuries? and you’re calling me old?”

he makes a noncommittal sort of hum as you two start walking again. a comfortable silence falls over you both, the man beside you finally silent after getting what he wanted out of you. however, the heat isn’t any less forgiving than it was moments prior so your pace inevitably slows until you’re forced to stop and lean down to rest your hands on your knees, each inhale of hot air offering absolutely no relief. 

when he realizes you stopped walking and turns around to send you an unimpressed look it’s quickly replaced by poorly masked concern that shows in the furrow of his brows and the tight line of his lips. it’s only then that he remembers the bottle he watched you pack earlier that morning. 

“drink,” he says as he reaches into your bag and pulls out a full flask of water. you grab it from him gratefully and can’t help the sigh you release at the coolness of the liquid from being inside of a metal container. 

the wanderer watches you wordlessly as you twist the cap back on and turn to put it back in your bag, and the second you look away the feeling of something being placed on your head as well as suddenly being enveloped in the shade catches you by surprise. when you whip around to meet his gaze he avoids yours and walks a few steps ahead, arms crossed and hat mysteriously missing. 

when it clicks, your jaw drops a fraction and you reach up to slide your fingers along the gold metal leaves, finding them hot to the touch from the scorching sun. 

the wanderer never lets you touch his hat. not even as his trusted companion. every time you’ve tried in the past, he’s quick to step out of your way or slap your hand back whenever he sees you going for it. there’s a sparkle of joy in your eyes when he peeks out of the corner of his to take in your reaction and scoffs when he sees the awe on your face. 

“come on, let’s keep moving.” he huffs, tone sounding irritated. 

unused to the weight of the wide hat balanced on your head, you catch up to him on wobbly feet, one hand still holding onto the rim so it won’t tip off. how the wanderer manages to jump around and run without it sliding everywhere is beyond you, because it feels like it could fall off at any moment. 

this does not go unnoticed to the man next to you, but you’re too busy trying to stand straight and walk without tilting too much, so you’re not prepared for the gust of wind he flicks at you that tips the hat up and off, saved from falling to the ground only by his hand that shoots out to grab it and put it back the way it was before. 

“hey!” you pout indignantly, sending him a look of annoyance. when your meet eyes meet his, his vibrant indigo irises are swimming with mirthful contentment, and a small smile rests easily on his face. it’s not an expression you get see on him that often, but like always, it causes pitiful flutters in your chest. 

your frown softens despite yourself and you avert your gaze to the horizon where the sun hangs high in the sky, feeling thankful that you can just blame the flush staining your cheeks on the heat if he points it out. 

what a truly insufferable travel companion you have. 

— title; don’t leave me (stay)

— pairing; inumaki toge x reader

— summary; in which you and inumaki recover from the aftermath of the shibuya incident. 

— notes; inspired by the toge and yuta angst from @aliteama​ & @uwuwriting​

— manga spoilers for chapter 137

The strangest thing of all since you’ve reached Shibuya is the unexpected silence: no shouting, or sounds of combat. Instead, there’s fear of a different kind. From behind the white curtain of the makeshift infirmary, you stare out at the Cursed Corpses patrolling the grounds. You’ve been forbidden from entering the fray – your powers are much too valuable to be wasted, and so, you’ve been shunted into the infirmary with Ieiri.

Keep reading

[ 1:55 am ] ; albedo.

"just one more," your plea was masked by a laugh that drifted gently through the room, the smile that albedo wore on his lips further encouraging your request.

"it's the last one."

albedo's voice was pushed by the whisper of a new passion for him, its timbre being nervous and rather shy as he recalled that peaceful night between you.

"it's the last one," you confirmed albedo's statement with anxiety painting the sparkle in your eyes, your smile now so wide and sincere it was impossible for albedo to regret his choice.

as such, albedo got closer to you.

between the silence of the night and the serenity of your room, albedo brought his face close to yours, allowing your warmth to paint light rosy tones on his cheeks; between the calm of the street and the tranquility of your house, albedo's heart beat fiercely in his chest, threatening to scream all the love he felt for you if albedo lingered any longer; and, between the outside and the inside, your passion blossomed again, sown by the lips of albedo on your forehead, watered by the gentleness of his hand on your face, cared by the simplicity of your complicity.

"it was the last one," when albedo removed his lips from your forehead, the rivers of euphoria and security that coursed through you had calmed down, forcing you to sigh those words unconsciously, without even realizing that albedo was still holding your face with his hand.

"the last one before the end, perhaps."

albedo spoke low and shy, his face rosy with the heat of emotion, his smile small and almost invisible.

"the last one before the end, looks good to me."

you laughed low again, closing your eyes and allowing a new portion of your face to be kissed by your loved one, feeling his warmth being transmitted by you with kindness in that simple act of his.

"and we never know when the end comes, do we?"

now you looked at albedo in disbelief at his words, his smile gently expanding as his thumb circled your cheek.

and, submitting to the intense love that burned his chest, albedo kissed your face again, creating invisible trails through your skin, pictures of promises to be secretly delighted in your face. they were small kisses he gave you, all light and almost invisible, but you could feel, all over your body and all over your soul, that every kiss of his, every promise of albedo, would never be forgotten in the story of your love, not when he kissed you so tenderly.

- affection with the wanderer in the avidya forest

- fluff hehe

a/n: i think it would be funny if scara had to do community service after all the stuff he did to sumeru so i briefly mentioned it in this. anyways scara brainrot go brrrr

- lowercase is on purpose

it started with a simple kiss to the back of his hand: quick and fleeting, just the way he liked it. see, too much affection without prior announcement was a no-go with the wanderer.

but then, when you tried to let go of his hand, he held on tight, almost desperately, and so you kissed his hand again, and then his wrist, all the way up to his neck where his knees began to buckle everytime your lips pressed against the sensitive spot between his jaw and throat.

luckily, no one was around or else he would have never allowed something like this to happen.

a nice quiet walk in the avidya forest was what you both needed after a stressful day of his "community service" that was mandated after the...everything... that happened.

He spoke little to no words during this walk, simply being by your side while your hands brushed lightly against each others. you were the one to initiate contact, sliding your fingers around his pinkie. he merely glanced at your hands and grunted before looking straight ahead again.

eventually you took hold of his ring finger as well, and then his whole hand which led to where you are now.

"what do you think you're doing?" he asks, eyes glaring sharply at you.

with a small smile on your face, you reply, "i think it's very obvious what i'm doing."

at this, he sucks in his breath through his teeth, looking anywhere but at you while he can still feel your warm breath on his neck, until slowly you lean back.

"do you want me to stop?"

biting his lip and still unable to meet your eyes, he swallows harshly while fidgeting with his one free hand, your hand still gently holding his other one.

"if i wanted you to stop, i would have told you already."

letting out a quick hum, you agree and kiss him once again on his neck before making your way to his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and then finally a quick kiss on his lips, barely lasting a second. seemingly dissatisfied, he groans and grips your chin between his index and thumb.

"that was weak," he says, before pressing his lips more firmly against yours, your eyes fluttering shut while he walks you backwards to the nearest tree. your back hits it with a quiet thud and his free hand soon comes to rest above your head while his other still held yours, effectively pinning you against it.

his mouth moved faster against yours, his body pressing into yours as if he was trying to mold himself with you, like he had been craving your touch for the entirety of his very long existence. the fingers of your free hand eventually find his hair, carding them through the strands and pulling softly.

when he was satisfied, he pulled away, his usual unimpressed scowl returning to his face. "if you're going to kiss me, at least do it right."

"oh? would you like me to pin you to a tree next time?"

"shut it."

physicality.

*physicality: the fact of relating to the body as opposed to the mind; physical presence.

word count: 1,921

a/n: i absolutely love inumaki. and seeing jjk 0 today only made me love him more. however, no worries - no spoilers for the movie in this fic! also, i used this wonderful person’s guide on inumaki’s language for this fic! 

Inumaki wanted to say lots of things.

There was so many things he’d wanted to express at multiple different points of his life, but never could. He’d felt the frustration of his cursed energy for as long as he could remember, and it had never really faded - he just, simply, learned how to cope with it.

He really didn’t have any other choice.

Keep reading

MANJIRO SANO | LOVE IS ‘KIND’.

your link-a: manjiro sano (x reader)

cw etc: nsfw, minors dni. fingering but… he’s mentally ill and in love(?!) i’m so in love w mikey i be writing shit like stanzas man, pretty short

all about: mikey navigates what love is, and what you are.

Manjiro has heard that love is kind. It’s strong, and warm, and whole, and all his life he’s been sure love is the thing that would make him complete. So, he loved. He’d had a lot to spend, a lot to give, a lot to take, and he did. Mikey thinks, after a lot of careful calculation, that love makes everything worse. Or maybe it just makes him worse— maybe it’s this broken part of him that can’t stomach the way that love engulfs him whole and swallows him into nothingness.

Love is overwhelming, too. It takes over him and it always has. Manjiro never likes to lose, and with that he finds himself sickly whenever someone inches themselves near something he has. He’s possessive, overbearing and ill and he never knows how to fix it when it drips from his skin like sweat.

Love is too much and it topples out of him as your hands grip onto his shirt the way they are now. Love is horrible and it infects him through the timid saliva that you pass from your mouth to his. His chest tightens frantically under the steady of his skin, muscle and heart and all beating against his ribs that are covered in your name; his eyes shut and he sees you and it holds more clarity than anything his normal vision could, he finds you melted in the cracks in his skin, and Manjiro wonders if he hates love.

You’re needy and it’s taunting; he wonders, when you whimper around his tongue, if you’re making fun of him. Manjiro has always loved hard— harder than he ever figured out how to let on and harder than he knows how to feel at all, and even though he can never turn off the hope for a consistent reciprocal, he’s realistic.

“Wanted you for so long,” but his mind blurs whenever you speak, and he’s setting himself up for something rotten. “everything about you, Mikey.” and his realism shatters and, even if it’s momentary, it’s irreparable.

He feels sick. His hands are tingling, they’re asleep under your calming gaze, and they burn under the heat in your touch, and he lets them reach for your shirt, your skin, your being. Mikey is good at telling himself he’s done with love, but every time an inkling of it drops on his skin and it ferments until his body is painted with the idea that it wouldn’t be like last time and the need for whoever finds themselves in front of him.

Under everything, he’s a scared little boy. And he’s sure it’s so transparent, he’s sure he’s so obvious, but when he finds out it’s not it irritates him further. He feels abandoned, some how, when people don’t see what he’s not showing them. Yet, as your breath shakes when his fingers dip along the skin of your hips, he’s petrified you’ve seen through it— through him.

And now Mikey thinks he might need you. Maybe he does— maybe it’s more than he’s ever needed anyone— or maybe the feeling will fizzle the second he gets scared and he’ll realize it was nothing more than a weird week, or maybe it’s both. He shuts it out, though, as you mutter the words he’s thinking under him, and he doesn’t even know when he got over you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll need you, but he listens to your synonymous request quietly, breath lifting his body higher than it should go as the pad of his thumb ventures against the slick of your cunt.

“‘Jiro, fuck,” the nickname falls from you like prayer, like you were meant to say it, like it’s the only word you’ve ever known, and he forces himself to take in the situation. Mikey lives a lot of his life hazy, especially the good parts, so he makes sure he takes this all in. He memorizes the squelch you make against him and how your oiled lips part because of him.

Manjiro has always hated his hands. He knows he shouldn’t show sympathy to something that’s caused so much distress, but he second guesses his dismay for them at the way your pussy flutters around his fingers, clamping down on his knuckles without any hesitation. Maybe, in some way, his skin isn’t broken and ruined and the bringer of bad because you like it. He could like them, too, he thinks, when you sob while they disappear into you over and over and over.

Manjiro doesn’t like love, and he doesn’t love it either.

“Oh my god, Mikey.” But he loves how you say his name right now— bubbles of white decorating his skin, proof that you like him in some way, that he’s good some how coating him. His repugnance for this feeling grows and shrinks simultaneously as you lose yourself on him and he loses himself with you.

His guard feels too low— there’s a repetitive tap in the back of his mind urging him he could do more against this, and he almost gives into it. He almost pulls away, he tempts the idea of leaving himself untouched and you incomplete, and he thinks he could ignore the ache in his cock and his sternum until he’s alone. It seems like a good plan, a smarter idea for the both of you, a safer decision for the worn mesh of himself, a genuine consideration for the delicacy of your care.

He can’t bring himself to it, though, and he’s sure somehow you’re keeping him there. It’s easier to say you’re making him stay locked in your body, connected with you.

Manjiro doesn’t think love is kind. He thinks it’s vicious, and loud, and he thinks it hurts.

“‘M gonna cum!” He thinks it’s cruel, and overbearing, and obsessive.

“Shit, Manjiro! I love you.” And he doesn’t think he’ll ever really be able to stop chasing it.