Request: Megumi And Yuuji With A Really Touchy Touchy Affectionate S/o But Gets Easily Flustered If You

SHOWTIME! | haitani r.

haitani rindou x fem!reader ft. haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo, kokonoi hajime, kakucho, akashi takeomi, sano manjiro

summary: you pushed your boyfriend just a bit too far while he was trying to stream a game with his friends

warnings: fem!reader, college au, mean dom!rindou, exhibitionism (can hear, not see), oral (f->m), rough sex, unprotected sex, brief manhandling, humiliation, slight impact play, implied masturbation (m), pet names (princess, pretty girl)

wordcount: 4.2k

notes: for @spookygeto's streamer collab

It’d been hours, you were sure of it, and you couldn’t bear it any longer. He swore--he swore--that he wouldn’t be on long, that he would actually spend time with you and you knew you shouldn’t have believed him. It was never just one match when Rindou got on with his stupid fucking friends but every time you naively held out hope.

Sighing from where you were leaning against the doorframe, you watched Rindou’s fingers fly across his keyboard, his gaze trained on the computer and headphones blocking out any sound other than the game and his friends.

Your eyes flickered over to the computer, noting the fact that he was streaming but his camera was turned off, as per usual. Sometimes, it amazed you how many fangirls your boyfriend had for being a streamer that never showed his face online but you supposed it was understandable, Rindou had an attractive voice, you would be the first to admit that.

You wandered over to his desk quietly, his eyes flickered up to the mirror he had above his computer, meeting yours briefly. He raised his eyebrows, questioning you, you pouted as you drew closer--pouting harder when he turned his attention back toward the game.

Kneeling next to him, you pressed your cheek against his thigh and looked up at him, “You’re so pretty, Rin,” you said softly as to not have your voice picked up by his mic, eyes trained on his pretty purple ones, watching the reflection of his game in his irises, watching the way his pretty purple and black hair strayed in his face.

Rindou looked down at you briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips for a moment before you heard Sanzu Haruchiyo shriek something through his headphones and he tore his gaze off of you and back toward the computer.

You pouted as he redirected his attention back toward the game, laughing at whatever was going on. Sighing you rested your head back down against his leg, cheek smushed against his thigh as you looked up at him through your lashes, hating the way he didn’t even spare you a second look.

You should just go, you told yourself, an unwelcome feeling stirring in your chest at the genuine smile spread across Rindou’s face as he talked with his friends.

He promised you time, another voice argued, take your promised time if he won’t give it to you freely.

Your eyes drifted to Rindou’s sweatpants, eyes focusing in on the outline of cock through the gray material, gaze shooting back up to where his eyes were following the movements on the screen rapidly, not sparing you any attention.

While his concentration was entirely on the game, you shifted under the desk and between his legs, movements going unnoticed. You tapped his thigh, watching as Rindou’s brow furrowed in confusion as he absently lifted his hips off of the chair, tongue darting out as his fingers tapped furiously at his keyboard.

Dumbass, you thought to yourself, albeit fondly, as you slipped his sweats down to his thighs. Rindou hadn’t even realized what you had done until you freed his cock from his boxers and he inhaled at the feeling of the cool air against it.

His gaze tore from the game and darted down to where you were kneeling in between his legs, fingers ghosting the length of his cock. His eyes were dark with warning as he watched you, hissing as your hand wrapped firmly around his cock, pumping it twice before you brushed your thumb over the precum beading at his slit.

You watched him scramble to turn the microphone off on his headsets. “Keep your mic on,” you complained quietly, “or are you afraid you’re gonna be loud.”

“Not right now,” he muttered and you could see the veins of his forearms bulging as his entire body tensed as you leaned in to lick at the precum leaking down his tip. Voice strangled, he said, “We finally dragged fuckin’ Mikey away from that other group he plays with, we gotta focus on this match.”

“Then focus,” you told him quietly, leaning up to lick a stripe up the length of his cock, watching him let out a heavy breath as he tilted his head back, that stupid matching tattoo he got with his group of friends on broad display.

“OI! RINDOU, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? STOP FUCKING AROUND!” you heard one of his friends, Kokonoi Hajime, you recognized, shouting through his headsets and Rindou let out a low groan, shooting you a lidded glare before he turned his microphone back on, focusing back on the game albeit with shakier hands.

“Fuck off, Koko,” Rindou said roughly, “My girl came in, had to talk to her real quick.”

“Y/n’s there? Tell her I said hi,” Ran said immediately, his other friends echoing the sentiment. Rindou only glared down at you, you smiled from where you were leaning your cheek on his inner thigh, lazily pumping his cock.

Rindou took in a sharp breath as he set his gaze back on his computer screen and you leaned up on your knees, resting your elbows on his thighs as you took his tip into your mouth, sucking lightly and swirling your tongue around it. Rindou’s fingers faltered from where they were flying across his keyboard.

“Rindou, what the fuck?! How did you miss that?” you heard Sanzu shout and Rindou told him to go fuck himself. You smiled when you noticed one of his legs trembling. You pulled off of his tip with a soft pop, running your hands up his thighs and under his sweatshirt, nails tracing patterns on his abdomen. You watched as the muscle tensed under your touch, his body hunching in slightly and a grimace crossing his face as he shot you another irritated look.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. Tell me to stop and I will, you said silently. Understanding what you were getting across, Rindou only sneered at you, going back to his game.

You smiled.

One hand still lightly scratching the contours of the abdomen, your other drifted back to his upper thigh, bracing itself there as you leaned in to capture Rindou’s cock between your lips. Rindou hissed at the suddenness of the action. Shifting up more on your knees and forcing your throat to relax, you bobbed your head on his cock, inhaling deep through your nose as your lips brushed the base of his cock, desperately trying to stop yourself from gagging and making noise.

Rindou choked on his breath, coughing violently, and his cock twitched sharply in your mouth--tears stinging at your eyes as it stretched out your throat. Your nails dug into the skin of his thigh as you pulled halfway off his cock, tongue tracing up the vein on the underside of his cock, sucking hard at his tip cringing lightly at the salty taste of his precum before pulling off again and looking up at him.

You could hear a mesh of voices shouting at Rindou from his headphones but Rindou had his eyes squeezed shut and one hand clasped around his mouth, head tilted down. Haitani Rindou was good at a lot of things but controlling his reactions was not one of them. Haitani Rindou was loud and responsive in bed, and it was something that you appreciated a lot and he despised because no matter how hard he tried to shut himself up he couldn’t.

The glare he shot you was nothing short of lethal when he finally reopened his eyes and dropped his hand from his mouth, lavender eyes dark and hooded, lips pressed together tight and twisted down.

You smiled at him again, his glare darkened.

Leaning in, you placed wet kisses along the length of his cock, feeling his abdomen spasm underneath your hands at the action. Just as you were about to take his cock back into your mouth, one of his hands curled around your hair, dragging you up.

Your eyes widened in shock, watching as he leaned forward to press a few buttons on his keyboard, ending the stream and closing out of the game. You heard his friends screaming at him from his headphones, Sanzu being the loudest but Rindou only spit a few curses at them as he dragged you rather harshly over to his bed.

“Rindou,” you said, wincing at the painful grip on your hair but he only flattened his other palm against your back and shoved you face-first down onto his bed. Before you could try to push yourself onto your knees, Rindou was straddling your back, pulling your head up and forcing something over your ears.

“Rindou, what the fuck is going on?” you heard Sanzu spit directly in your ears.

“Dude, why did you disconnect? We’re getting fucked,” Kakucho asked.

“Come on, man, are you shitting us right now? We just fucking lost, you know how long it took us to get Mikey to play?” Kokonoi complained.

Rindou leaned in close to the microphone, chest flush against your back and cock pressed against your ass, “My girl wanted to play a different game, you should be thanking me for the front row seat, assholes,” he said lowly, and you turned your head to look at your boyfriend, eyes wide as the others on the call quieted down.

“Rin-” you began, voice wavering as he leaned back on his heels, shifting off of you.

“Thought you wanted the mic on,” Rindou spat, dragging you closer to him, grip bruising around your thighs. Distantly, you could hear his friends mocking you through the headset but all you could focus on was Rindou, “Made us lose the match, least you can do is give ‘em a show, yeah?”

“Yeah, give us a show, y/n-chan,” you heard Sanzu jeer into your ear from the headset.

“Mm, let us hear you, pretty girl,” Ran cooed, “Wanna hear how good Rinrin can fuck you, bet I can do it better.”

You inhaled sharply as you felt Rindou tug your shorts down harshly, looking back at him nervously because he wasn’t really about to fuck you with all of his friends and his brother listening, was he?

Tell me to stop and I will, the same mocking look you had sent him before was now directed your way and you could only glare at him. He didn’t back out, so you wouldn’t either.

“You hear that?” Kokonoi Hajime cooed, “Thinks she likes the sound of that, maybe Rindou doesn’t fuck his bitch good enough.”

“Koko,” Kakucho warned but he was cut off by Ran’s loud laughter.

“Is that it, princess? Need me to teach my little brother how to fuck you? Want me to make him watch as I split you open on my cock, hm?” Ran’s voice was cruel, mocking, tears sprung to your eyes.

“N-No,” you said, “No, I-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rindou said from behind you and you gasped when you felt his fingers slip between your folds to press at your entrance, smearing your slick around messily, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to them 'less I tell you to.”

You shut your mouth immediately even as Rindou’s friends started mocking you and you weren’t sure if wanted to cry or if you wanted Rindou to just hurry up and fuck you. You felt pathetic because while you listened to his friends make fun of you for ‘at least being an obedient slut’ you couldn’t stop the heat that was pooling dangerously fast in your lower abdomen.

You wanted to throw up--you shouldn’t be getting turned on from this. You shouldn’t and you knew damn well that Rindou was going to notice and when he did-

“There’s no fuckin’ way you’re actually turned on by this,” Rindou sneered, as if on cue, and you whimpered, humiliation spreading through you as his friends burst into laughter, sharp in your ears. Your eyes blurred with tears as Rindou grabbed your waist to pull you up to your hands and knees in front of him and you let out a shaky breath when you felt his tip nudge against your cunt, slipping against your wet folds. “You fuckin’ are, you like that they’re listening, don’t you? Want them to hear you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore? Maybe I should turn the video on for them too, yeah?”

“N-N-oh-” you couldn’t even finish the protest as Rindou’s hands found themselves in a bruising grip on your hips, fingers digging hard into your skin as he pushed into you without warning, an obscene moan escaping your lips when you felt his cock stretching out your walls, slipping into you almost easily without any prep just from how turned on you were.

Keyword, almost. You grit your teeth as discomfort spread through you, the stretch a strange mixture of pleasure and pain that was unfamiliar to you because Rindou never fucked you without making you cum twice on his tongue and twice on his fingers at least.

It burned and you couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or a bad way because your thoughts were jumbled not only from the feeling of Rindou’s cock splitting you open but also because of his friends’ voices piercing your ears.

“Jesus fucking christ, sounds like a fuckin’ pornstar,” you couldn’t tell who had spoken--Kokonoi, maybe? Takeomi? Yeah, Takeomi.

“Fucks like one too,” that was Ran, “Rindou accidentally sent me a video of them once when tryna send one he took of some guy hacking in the game.”

“Nah man, why the fuck is Rindou the first of us to get a girl? There’s something fundamentally wrong with that, when is it my turn?” That was Kokonoi, you realized.

You whimpered as you felt Rindou draw his hips back, you could feel each and every inch of his cock pressing against your cunt, each vein molding itself into your walls. And you tried, you tried to brace yourself, tried to hold back the moan bubbling in your chest because you knew the microphone connecting you to his friends was right next to your lips but you couldn’t.

Your arms trembled against the bed in anticipation, abdomen and legs tensing and pussy aching at the empty feeling left behind by Rindou’s cock as his tip once again nudged at your opening. But he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t moving and you were sure it was about to be what pushed you to tears rather than all of his friends making fun of you in your ear.

“Rin-” you began taking in a shuddered breath when you heard Sanzu Haruchiyo mock your call of your boyfriend’s name instantly. Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, for a moment you hated Rindou. You hated him for making him wear his headphones while his friends were on a call, you hated him for drawing this out when he knew what you wanted and you hated-

Any thought that might’ve been running through your head fizzled away as Rindou bucked his hips into you, a loud cry of his name tearing from your lips silencing all of the boys on the other end of the voice chat. Your arms gave out as Rindou pulled his hips back, snapping them back into you at an almost painful pace--dropping to your elbows as Rindou’s fingers dug deep into the skin of your hips and ass, dragging you back and fucking you onto him as he thrust up into you, hitting you so deep inside that it almost hurt, you swore his tip was brushing your cervix.

You could barely even hear Rindou’s friends in your ears over the sloppy sound of your boyfriend’s cock dragging in and out of your sopping wet cunt, over the filthy sound of skin on skin, over Rindou’s low groans and your piercing, broken moans that were cut off each time Rindou drove his hips into you.

“Holy fuckin shit-”

“... fucking hot, Rindou’s gotta shar-”

“-ucho actin' all holier-than-thou, we all know you’re fuckin’ your fist too.”

“Rindou,” you sobbed, fisting the sheets next to you, “feels s’good, Rin, feels s’good, feels-”

Another high-pitched moan tore from your lips as Rindou brought his hand down on your right ass cheek, the sound ringing throughout the air. That very same hand slid up your body to wrap around your hair, pulling you right off of the mattress, back arched almost painfully but you couldn’t even feel it over the numbing feeling of Rindou’s cock fucking so deep into you.

“Tell them that,” Rindou groaned but his words went in one ear and out the other until his grip tightened, “Tell them.”

“C’mon, princess,” Ran cooed, “tell us how my baby brother’s makin’ you feel, yeah?”

“Makin me feel s’good,” the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, half a slur as your head started going fuzzy from all of the stimulation, “he’s makin’ me feel s’good, Ran.”

“Oh, fuck-” Ran groaned just as Rindou brought another hand down on your ass, making you cry out again.

“Don’t say his fuckin’ name,” Rindou spit out viciously, “Say it again and I’m not gonna let you finish.”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you sobbed, but you weren’t even sure if the words were coming out as you intended and you weren’t even sure what Rindou was telling you, everything felt too hot and you couldn’t even hear yourself over the headphones and the sounds of Rindou driving himself into you over and over and over again.

“Keep going,” Rindou said after a moment and

You hiccuped over your breath, “R-Rin makes me feel s’good, n he’s so big, he’s so bi-ig,” god you should be embarrassed, you knew you would be whenever you came back to but you were too fucked out on your boyfriend’s cock to care, “makes me feel the best, makes me fe-”

“Bet I could make you feel even better, pretty,” Sanzu interrupted you, “Should convince your lil boyfriend to let-”

“No!” you said, “N’you can’t, Rin makes me feel the best, Haru-”

You weren’t even able to finish his name, cut off by another gasp and resounding smack as Rindou slapped your ass again, “What the fuck did I just tell you?” he seethed, but you could barely hear him over the near-pornographic moan of Sanzu Haruchiyo ringing through your ear.

Oh god, did he just cu-

Rindou’s grip on your hair tightened, your mind going blank as he drove his cock deep into you again, his free hand slipping from his harsh hold on your hip to rub at your clit, your lips parted in a silent moan as you felt him tug lightly at your clit, body spasming at the action. Letting go of your hair, Rindou brought his other hand back to your waist so he could fuck you faster, harder, at a brutal pace that had you crying out with each thrust, that had your mind half-dazed and your jaw slack.

Your upper body dropped limp against the bed without Rindou holding you up, cheek flush against the mattress and eyes rolling back as Rindou dragged your body back to meet him for every thrust, fingers playing with your clit like one of his stupid games. His name left your lips in a mantra, a series of nonstop high-pitch chants, his name was the only intelligible thought running through your head as he brought you closer and closer to your high.

“Fuck, sounds-”

You were gonna cum, you could feel it-

“... nzu came all over-”

But you can’t, are you really gonna let them all hear?

“...f your brother doesn’t let us hit, I swear-”

Heat spread through your body fast, too fast, you couldn’t fucking control it--you couldn’t even tell if it was from pleasure or humiliation as your pants and cries of Rindou’s name grew louder and louder.

“...so fuckin’ hot-”

Desperately, you tried to slap your hand over your mouth but Rindou grabbed it before you could try to muffle the noise, you sobbed, head almost feeling like it was floating from how close you were from being pushed over the edge.

“-n’t believe Rindou-”

They’d never let you live this down, you had to see most of them every day, how would you be able to look them in the eyes-

“Princess, convince your boyf-”

Rindou leaned over you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as he rolled his hips slow into, hitting impossibly deeper, “Hurry the fuck up ‘n cum.”

Your entire body trembled as Rindou flicked your clit hard, grinding his hips deep into you as he attached his lips to the back of your neck, sucking deep bruises down your spine and moaning shamelessly against your skin as your walls spasmed around him. A piercing moan of his name left from your lips as you felt your high wash over you, nails ripping into the bedsheets and body tensing. You could feel Rindou’s hips stutter and still against you as he came deep inside you and you felt full, too full, too hot, it was all just too much.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t even tell who was speaking as your body fell limp to the bed, mind hazy and fuzzy--Rindou was saying something to you, you could see his lips moving from the corner of your eye but you couldn’t tell what he was saying over the combined sound of his friends loud in your ears and the blood rushing to your head, body shuddering in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Hey, Mikey,” you heard Ran laugh as Rindou reached to take off the headphones, “Bet this is better than your other little group you play with, yeah?”

Everything went eerily quiet once he pulled the headphones off, the only sound in the room was your own heavy pants as you tried to catch your breath and Rindou murmuring something to his friends before wandering over to his computer.

Distantly, you wondered if he really had the audacity to go back to playing his game after all of that, but you were proven wrong a few seconds later when he wandered back to your side, sitting on the bed next to you, headphones out of hand. He brushed your matted hair out of your face before leaning down to press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back, cupping your face gently.

You smiled, turning your face to the side to kiss the palm of his hand, he let out a soft breath, the irritated look in his lavender eyes long gone and replaced by a fonder one.

“Love you, y’know?” he murmured and you giggled, the irritated look returned momentarily before disappearing. Haitani Rindou was never the most affectionate man but he tried his best for you,

“Love you too, Rin,” you said, giving his palm another peck.

For a moment, the two of you just rested there, basking in each other’s presence and just as you were about to speak up, his computer began binging incessantly. His friends, you realized after a moment, realization slowly beginning to hit you over what just happened.

Rindou seemed to recognize your distress and his grip on your face tightened slightly, forcing you to look at him, “I’ll kill them if they bother you,” he said, and you knew he meant it from the dark look in his eyes, “Ran-”

Ran-

“Rindou accidentally sent me a video once-”

“Rin,” you said quietly, cutting him off mid-rant, “Ran said something-”

“Ran says a lot of things-”

“Something about a video of us,” you finished, watching his face go red almost immediately. Rindou launched to his feet instantly, moving away from you. You forced yourself to sit up, wincing at the soreness shooting through your body, “Rindou!”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he spit out, refusing to look at you. You stared at him in disbelief, watching as he made a beeline for the bathroom, “Gonna run you a bath.”

“Rin-”

“Gonna run you a bath!” he repeated, louder, slamming the bathroom door behind him. You sighed as you heard the water running, flopping back down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Rin,” you called, knowing that he could hear you over the running water, “I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Rindou didn’t respond, and you tilted your head over to the side to look at his bathroom, watching as he opened the door and glared at you, “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” you demanded.

“I thought I was sending something else,” he snapped, “It’s not my fault my phone spazzed.”

“I’m gonna fuckin' kill you, Rin.”

“You can’t even walk on your own right now, good luck.”

“RINDOU!”

--

taglist: @spookygeto @kennyb0y @portfolio-of-dreams @devinsdaydreams @mortuary-ossuary @sano-obsessed @sugusshi @haitanihime @adeptiixiao @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @crackheadwithtoes @zuuki @hanmascult @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @hollypastl @kazufuyusluv @imkumichan @meena-in-a-nutshell @aces-high @obsessiontoanime @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @marism @prettyiolanthe @whydohumansss @rinsie @blvebcrry @xenixenxen @manjiroscum @r-xochitl @chaoticwh0re @chifuyuslilkitten @wakasasucker @shibuyawardnetwork

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hey hey dino!! can i get headcanons of akaashi meeting his s/o for the first time at a bookshop and then how they confessed or got together afterwards? -🍙

wahhhh sorry for responding to this so late but i was thinking a lot about how to do this and i finally got what i want in my head. i hope you like this onigiri-anon !! i also really missed the second-hand bookstores near my campus so i mentally projected myself there. alsoo,, this ended up being a drabble ajgkla i just love bookstores so much (and akaashi)

Akaashi + meeting his s/o in a bookstore

akaashi loved his part-time job and he was proud to say it, especially with his own friends struggling with having to deal with customers in cafes or weird people in clothing stores. instead of those, he was in his ideal place which was essentially being surrounded by books. it was a small, bookstore that sold second-hand books for really great deals. the store would attract the occasional wanderer who’d thumb through the dusty shelves, sometimes buying one or two books, or just wandering back outside. his regulars though, the faces who akaashi would recognize, were often literature students who’d specifically inquire about titles they’d need for a class. that, and one other person who akaashi found himself inexplicably drawn to.

he couldn’t really tell what course you were taking, nor did he particularly think it was his business, but you came to the shop at a specific time every week: four o’ clock, every friday. you’d browse the shelves, paying special attention to the ‘recent arrivals’ collection and always walked out of the store with a handful of paperbacks. akaashi could tell from your purchases that you were a genre-jumping kind of reader, something that he admired. after a bit of time, he’d make small conversation with you at the counter while he wrapped up the books you ordered. sometimes he’d talk about a book you were buying that he read before or he’d ask about whether or not the one you got last week was any good.

“hmmm, this seems to be a mystery novel weekend for you,” akaashi hummed, smiling down at the stack of agatha cristie novels that you placed on the counter.

“i used to read these a lot when i was younger,” you shrugged a shoulder. “so it also doubles as a nostalgia trip.”

“i see,” akaashi let out a small chuckle as rang up your order. “that will be five dollars.” you rummaged around your pocket for change, dropping a few crumpled dollar bills and coins on the counter, only to come up fifty cents short.

“dang, i should have known not to buy that overpriced coffee earlier,” you laughed, going through the stack of books. “i guess i’ll take out this one...” 

akaashi only needed a split-second to think up what to do. “you know what? think of it as a discount,” he smiled, plucking the book out of your hand and re-adding it to the stack of books that he was about to wrap in brown paper.

“really?” you blinked at him in surprise.

“yeah. i mean, you’re a pretty regular customer,” akaashi said. “although, don’t tell that to the lit majors. i might go out of business if they knew,” he whispered, handing your books to you.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed.

“and by the way,” akaashi added quickly. “i know you mostly choose books here based on what interests you but, you can make some special requests if you want.”

“and... will they just magically appear in that secret storeroom behind you?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

“as much as i would like that, sadly they don’t ‘magically appear’. i have some connections.”

“so, a black market then,” you nodded your head. akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“yes, exactly that.”

“well, if it’s not too much trouble for your underground, second-hand book mafia, do you think you could find a copy of ‘station eleven?’” you asked.

“station eleven,” akaashi picked up a pen and wrote down the title.

“by emily st. john mandel,” you added. “i read the blurb at a bookstore but it was way out of budget.”

“i’ll see what i can do,” akaashi said confidently. 

his ‘black market second-hand books’ connections happened to be just an online website full of second-hand bookstore owners. most of the time, they’d talk about the best places to get books but everyone helped each other out. akaashi put up a post inquiring about a copy of ‘station eleven’ and got a response in less than an hour, and the actual book in less than two days. the hard part about that was akaashi ended up impatiently waiting for you to come by the bookstore again. and because of that, he ended up reading the book that you requested for. 

by the time you came again on friday, akaashi had long finished the book and had it waiting for you on the counter.

“no way! book mafia is real!” you grinned, holding the copy in your hands. 

“real, and always at your service,” akaashi bowed, feeling warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of your smile. “i hope you don’t mind that i read through it.”

“as long as you don’t give any spoilers,” you wagged a finger at him. “and besides, i’d do that if i were you.”

“i’ll just say that it’s a wonderful read and leave it at that. we also have some more stuff at the new releases collection.”

“ooh, yes please!” you smiled, rifling through the box beside the counter that akaashi had strategically repositioned. he watched as you tucked your hair behind both ears and rifled through the stacks, eyes scanning through titles and blurbs. he was staring before he even realized it.

“oh my gosh,” you gasped, breaking akaashi out of his reverie. “are these goosebumps books.” 

“you noticed,” akaashi smiled, joining you at the new releases box as you pulled goosebump book after goosebump book from it. “they sell these pretty cheaply since they’re essentially pulp fiction books for kids.”

“these were my childhood,” you laughed, reading out the titles. “’deep trouble,’ ‘deep trouble 2′, ‘vampire breath’.” you gasped again as you held up another book. “the curse of camp cold lake!”

akaashi laughed at your excitement. you shot him a pout. “what? i know they’re not esteemed literature but--”

“no, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “you see, i’m more of a ‘revenge of the living dummy’ kind of guy.”

“i haven’t read that one! it’s a trilogy, right?”

“you can start now,” akaashi handed you the three, slim paperback novels. 

“alright,” you nodded. back at the counter, you watched as akaashi carefully wrapped all your books with brown paper, tie it all to secure them together, before pressing a stamp on the edge. it was one of those things you loved about the bookstore, aside from the cheap books and the very cute storeowner. you always unwrapped your books as carefully and tenderly as how akaashi wrapped them.

“let me know what you think of them in a week,” he said, handing the package to you. you hugged your books to your chest.

“i’ll probably take less than a week to read all of these,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “i mean, they’re pretty slim novels.”

“oh,” akaashi blinked, getting the hint. “i’ll... hear your thoughts soon then?”

“soon,” you nodded brightly.

as the weeks continued, you and akaashi exchanged book recommendations, most often reminiscing about old, pulp fiction books you read as children. what started out as you coming in once a week turned into a few days a week, and then at least once a day in between your classes. akaashi loved the way you’d sometimes enter, seemingly in a rush, and immediately start talking about the book you just read or even just about your day. 

that was until one day, he realized that he was pretty much looking at the door and wishing for you to pop in instead of reading his book to pass the time. ‘if i could just close up shop today and talk to them, that would be great,’ he wondered, checking his watch again and finding that your class was a good hour away from ending. akaashi felt a rush of joy when he saw you come in. this time, he didn’t confine himself behind the counter while you browsed the shelves. the two of you took turns pulling books from shelves, reading out blurbs, and sharing recommendations. you liked how your conversation wasn’t just limited to what you were reading, but other things that happened in your day and during your classes.

akaashi wished that he could do this all the time. and then, he realized a way how.

on friday, you bought a little more books than usual for your weekend reading and came back again on monday to an expectant akaashi. “well, how was it?” he asked, quirking up a smile at you.

“amazing. i can’t believe it’s taken me this long to read it,” you grinned, your copy of ‘the giver’ by lois lowry still in hand. akaashi smiled at it, knowing that you probably ran over to the bookstore right after reading it.

“the fact that it’s been banned in several schools makes it all the more compelling to read,” akaashi added. even though he was talking, he felt as if he was still holding in a breath. he listened and nodded along, adding in his insights as you talked about the book, until finally, you brought up what he was waiting for.

“by the way, you know how most of the books here have all these doodles and writing on the pages?” you asked.

“yeah?” akaashi cocked his head.

“well, i saw this one on a page. it said ‘will you date me?’ i thought it was cute,” you smiled softly. “hopefully the person said yes.”

“that remains to be seen,” akaashi cleared his throat.

“hmm?” you looked at him, puzzled. akaashi took the book from you and opened it to the first page. there, on a corner of the page, was his name. your eyes widened at the sight as you quickly put two and two together.

“oh.”

“yeah...” akaashi pursed his lips as he watched you. you crinkled your nose and quirked a smile up at him.

“did the book mafia just ask me out?”

akaashi laughed and closed the book. “they just did. and they eagerly wait for your reply.”

“well, if the book mafia also likes watching movies,” you said nonchalantly.

“the book mafia loves stories in all mediums,” akaashi smiled down at you. “is this saturday alright?”

“this saturday sounds wonderful,” you agreed. 

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts @applepienation

☾ the witching hour

☾ decision: kitchen

☾ warnings: f!reader, alcohol mention

☾ word count: 1.5k 

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Burning for You

a/n | BASED ON GENSHIN 3.0 LEAKS!⚠️ …okay, so i have a confession. two things… one, i believe in love at first sight. and two, i am hopelessly in love with tighnari. <3 wrote this in a few hours high off of my new fav dendro main so i hope it’s okay! (art credits: u/murasakisumire on reddit)

warnings | character leaks, slight profanity, probably ooc tighnari but i’m having fun with it anyway :)

genre | fluff, smug tighnari likes to tease you

word count | 1.1k

pairing | tighnari x reader

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

In the humid wilderness of Sumeru’s lush rainforests, there was no room for error as a forest ranger. It was a matter of life or death—eat or be eaten.

The vast majority of the rainforest was relatively untouched by civilization and teeming with vibrant creatures of all shapes, sizes, and abilities. As a ranger, you were expected to be an expert in animal and vegetation identification, and able to sense danger through disturbances in the surrounding ecosystem.

You had been reminded of this requirement on numerous occasions by your superior, yet somehow you defied all natural laws with how you constantly attracted trouble. Sometimes it’s a simple, easily avoidable mistake on your part, but other times it turned into a horde of enemies charging in your direction with no obvious escape in sight.

As a result, you were assigned under the direct supervision of the Lead Forest Ranger, Tighnari, for special training. But it wasn’t your fault you magically invited danger everywhere you went. At first, you were quite intimidated by the long-eared ranger. You knew he was the best of the best, so the stakes were high. If you messed this up, maybe you really were hopeless.

Expeditions were extremely silent and awkward with your new companion. After a while of suffering from solitude, you had tried to get to know him more, but it proved to be difficult.

“Hey, ‘Nari,” you would inquire softly as he was focused on referencing an encyclopedia from his pack.

An ear would twitch accompanied by a nearly indiscernible hum, eyes not breaking from his work once. “Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Um, do you ever take a break?” you sheepishly asked, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. He raised a brow, promptly closing his book, and touched his chin in thought. Worried you had offended him, you continued, “L-like do you do anything for fun?”

“This is fun, is it not?” Tighnari replied nonchalantly. “I love my work.”

It was true. All Tighnari would ever discuss with you was about Dawson Rainforest. Such was the extent of any line of questioning you could think of. You could rarely ever get a reaction out of him, not that you wanted to tease him—well, maybe you wouldn’t mind to see the quiet and clever Tighnari devolve into a stuttering, blushing mess at least once.

But that is beside the point. You felt ignored and lonely. Breaking the ice was useless. You were going to have to be a lot more forward if you wanted to get Tighnari’s attention.

Which ultimately led you to this moment months later, as you snap out of your thoughts staring at the burning embers rising from the campfire. You like to think your relationship had improved or you understood each other better since then. At the very least, your skills were improving and working with him in a team wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

You both had set up camp together less than an hour ago after completing your duties since you were too far from the main base to lodge for the night. Tighnari had just set his ranger journal aside, pale green eyes locked onto you.

A strange rush of heat spread across your cheeks in embarrassment. You prayed to the Archons it wasn’t noticeable. Had he said something and you completely missed it? Why is he looking at you like that?

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say since he still scarcely gives you the time of day, “What?”

Perfect. You were such a great conversationalist, you reprimanded yourself silently.

“You were lost in thought,” he observed, lips pursing slightly in disappointment. “I… apologize if I have come across as rude in the past.”

“No!” you insisted, shaking your head frantically and laughing it off. “That’s not why at all. Don’t worry about it. Just feeling bored I guess?”

“You must always remain vigilant. As you can tell, none of the wildlife here seem bored in all their clamoring even in the darkness of night,” Tighnari notes out of habit, but he pauses for a second before shaking his head too and scooting next to you. “But we aren’t on a mission so I suppose I may entertain your antics this time.”

Did the flame of the fire suddenly grow hotter? Your cheeks flushed with another intense wave of heat when Tighnari grew near, surely it wasn’t your Pyro vision acting up. Then again, every time the lead ranger draws close, you swear you can feel the fiery pulse of your vision on your chest. Or was that your heart leaping?

His bright jade eyes flickered knowingly from your vision to meet your skeptical gaze, a playful, smug smile threatening to tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you enjoy this, ‘Nari? Making me—!” you accused in shock, words abruptly trailing off as you find yourself nearly admitting your embarrassment. “Argh. This is what you actually do for fun, isn’t it?”

“Me? I could never partake in such fruitless endeavors,” he responded with an innocent wave of his bushy raven tail, rotten mischief dripping from each word on his tongue.

“Oh, but the excitement is just radiating from you, go ahead. I’m ready to hear the great Tighnari speak to me finally,” you retorted sarcastically in a huff.

“I would be more inclined to say it’s written all over you, (Y/N),” his voice lowers as he leans in ever so slightly, tall ears towering over you in an almost intimidating manner. “I’m… not as oblivious as you may think.”

Fuck, the fennec fox never cared to talk to you and the minute he opens his mouth it was your downfall. Your breath hitched subconsciously, the only confirmation Tighnari needed, a sharp-toothed smirk adorning his smug expression. You hated it.

You had quickly learned long ago he had a penchant for teasing and trickery, and you always walked right into his traps. After all this time pushing you away and reeling you back in at will with his wit, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. You were utterly touch-starved and Tighnari reveled in it, lightly grazing the back of his fingers against your hot cheek.

His pearlescent irises glimmered and marveled at you—a predator helplessly enamored with his prey.

“This isn’t fair, ‘Nari,” you whispered, lidded eyes watching with longing as he slowly inches further toward you. The instinct to pull away crosses your mind, just to deny him the victory, but how could you when the promise of his lips was so imminent?

He brushed his nose against yours gently in a loving nuzzle, whispering onto your lips, “Neither is this burning in my heart for you now, is it?”

Tighnari could hardly restrain himself any longer, drinking in your scent like this so intimately, inevitably succumbing to your sweet lips in a passionate display of desire. When he held your cheek or trailed his hand down to your waist, you felt that familiar burst of your Pyro vision glowing alongside his Dendro one—his touch consuming you with an aching need for more.

You almost considered caressing his long ears when he nibbled at your bottom lip, until he broke the kiss with a soft smile and couldn’t resist indulging in your addicting taste once more.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

speaking of coffee (thanks jade LOL):

akaashi knows you have an iced coffee addiction. he’s a coffee drinker himself, mostly hot, but you’re far more committed to the same drink than he is. and he’s okay with that, of course, because it only makes it easier for him to order for you when he wants to surprise you or when he picks you up for a date.

the only time it’s inconvenient? winter.

because while akaashi’s love for you doesn’t change with the seasons, the temperature surely does, and that only makes it more difficult for him to carry the icy drink to pick you up. the walk to your house isn’t a long one, and it’s one he usually enjoys, but the tremble in his freezing fingertips causes him to focus a little less on the scenery and a little more on getting to his destination with all ten fingers still attached.

yet, when he knows boldly on your door, breath puffing out in a wispy cloud in the air, he doesn’t feel quite as cold when the door swings open. his cheeks are tinted pink from the air and the affectionate hug you offer him as a greeting, and he feels like he’s warmed up a bit already.

“keiji!” you gasp, holding both of his hands in yours as you usher him inside, “you didn’t bring gloves? ah, and this drink is iced, you must have been freezing!”

you quickly take the drink from him, setting it on the table before blowing warm air onto his hands. it feels refreshing to have the heat flow over his palms and to his knuckles, and it only gets better when you look up at him through your lashes.

“is that better?” you ask tentatively. akaashi smiles, letting out a small chuckle and pressing a short kiss to your forehead. it’s cold, yet somehow not unpleasant.

“don’t worry about me,” he replies. “i’m all better now.”

there’s only one kind of heat he needs, akaashi decides. 

the comforting warmth called you.

I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it

A/N: I’m tired and Im stressed and when someone is tired and stressed, they make stupid decisions… like wanting to write for fandoms and characters I don’t usually write for

Pairing: Xiao x reader (reader = traveler ≠ aether/lumine)

Description: The mundane but precious comfort of a warm bed had never tempted him, until his bed was not so empty while he was away anymore.

Word count: 1835

Yakshas did not need sleep, or rather, they were not really given the luxury to make it a necessity.

It was not that evil spirits only come out after the sun was down. People tend to have the misconception that ghouls and all things vile could only haunt you when it was dark but that was simply not true. Anger and wrath did not know the difference between day and night, what was left of ancient demons now wandered through the meadows and creeping closer to where their preys were. The world was not the same as it was before. The lights burnt brighter and even at night, there would not be an inch where darkness could swallow you whole unless you leave the city. Still, the general consensus among the masses seemed to be that demons were the most furious when it was dark out.

The only reason why he chose to pick his battles at night was to make sure not one innocent soul had to walk in on the karma-ridden Conqueror of Demons.

The adeptus, who appeared to be young but was not exactly, had never had any words of complaint about what simply must be done. The wind always howled the loudest at night, the currents stirring in the air as another spirit vanished with a slash of his polearm. And as pained screeches of dying remnants of dead gods faded into the air, poisoned words of his past rang in his ear. Demons were smart, they knew how to pick at the strings that could make you crumble, that was how they stir up chaos even though there was nothing more than a fragment left of their physical state in the world. 

Screams and devoured dreams weighted on his shoulder together with the karma that ripped his skin apart but he stayed put, until the sun came up again and his job was over, at least until night comes once more.

He had been living like this for over a millennium. Day after day, year after year. Even when the people he was protecting put off their work to rejoice over each festivity in their calendars, he was still away from the lights and carrying on with what he had been doing every night. 

The mundane but precious comfort of a warm bed had never tempted him, until his bed was not so empty while he was away anymore.

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Bitter Eclipse # i. toge

↳ Inumaki would've offered you a sip of his coffee ages ago if he knew what came next.

pairing: inumaki toge x gn!reader

genre: fluff, non-jujutsu!au.

warning(s): obnoxious prose.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: edited this in between study sessions lol but hello inumaki nation!! i hope he's doin okay... wherever he is...

Inumaki knows the question poised at the tip of everyone’s tongue when he first meets them. Rarely are they ever upfront about it in the beginning, but by the third or fourth encounter, the words slip past their lips and fester in the dust moted air with a life of its own.

“So, what’s the deal with the mask?”

Their shoulders always slacken, chests falling, as if their curiosity had swelled so ponderously that just uttering these words bring them reprieve.

But they are never satiated by his answer—his lack of one, because Inumaki has no justification.

“Is it a hygiene thing?”

He was reared to uphold a minimum standard of cleanliness in the Inumaki household—not that there were any stringent rules regarding the practice, more a sitting down and scolding to when he wore shoes inside or forgot to store his toys away—but he isn’t particularly scrupulous about sanitation.

“Is it a self-esteem thing?”

Sure, he’d been riddled with insecurities as a teen—what teen wasn’t? But he’s in his twenties now, and though he’s still plagued with a few doubts, Inumaki isn’t so beleaguered by them he’d shroud half his face in fabric.

“So, what is it?”

All he always offers in response is a non-committal toss of his shoulders.

Then, their question sprouts fangs, grows talons, cultivates a blood-lust tailored for an ‘acceptable’ answer because a shrug isn’t one. But—reluctantly—irrespective of all these phylogenies, their interest retreats into whatever dingy fissure it came from and lies in wait for another time. Momentarily, at least.

They nod and say ‘Ah’ as if in understanding, but he knows they want a better explanation. Maybe they think that if they wait long enough, their patience will be rewarded. That maybe Inumaki will reveal the deep, dark secret behind his mask if they become good enough friends. This never happens.

Inumaki has no grim ailment behind his decision. He wears masks because he likes them.

He’s not upset by the intrigue; it’s reasonable. So because he knows people inevitably cave in to their curiosity, he’s made a game out of it. He’s no hedonist, but thrills are scarce. Who would he be to reject them?

The game: How many meetings will it take until the fabled question arises?

Current record: 37.

Current record holder: you.

No, scratch that. The current record is 38, including right now.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” you ask, swaddled in a puffer jacket and scarf, breath pluming in cold wisps before you.

Inumaki shrugs and leans back into the decaying wooden bench, running his nail along his paper cup of coffee, the sides ridged with crests and troughs.

You tip your head back, eyelashes glimmering with moonlight. “It was boring, huh?”

A hum of agreement resonates from the well of his throat, and you smile. You take no offense to his reticence. Most people do, and he doesn’t blame their frustration, which makes patience—from his friends, from you—all the more appreciated.

“At least the desserts were okay, right?”

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. A cat café hadn’t been a part of the itinerary, but with tongues waxed by cheap popcorn and bitter disappointment, the tabbies and persians lounging by the window were impossible to resist.

Inumaki hadn’t minded, especially since you’d asked for a taste of his strawberry tart and leaned forward, mouth open, instead of plucking the fork from his fingers. When he’d fed you, heat simmered in his abdomen. You’d haloed with a smile and hummed at the sour tang, the indulgent cream cheese, pleased. It was cute. You were cute.

If someone had been watching, would they have mistaken you two as a couple? He wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Now, he tips his coffee towards you in silent invitation.

“I can have some?” you ask, eyes flickering from him to his drink.

Inumaki realised months ago that you like sharing your food. He’s not the type to—he knows his own penchants well enough that he’s never tempted to try someone else’s order—but he likes the way you beam when he offers.

You take the cup, fingers grazing his. The sensation is something he finds himself yearning for recently.

He tugs his mask back over his face as you cautiously take a sip. It’s a gradual shift; you lower the cup, throat bobbing as you swallow, eyebrows pinched in the way Inumaki knows they do when you’re deliberating. Then, the corner of your lips are quirking, the apples of your cheeks raising, eyes crinkling, glinting as you grin at him.

“It’s really good!” you say, handing it back. “Not too bitter.”

He’s gone out one-on-one with you eighteen times now. They’re not dates, he’ll remind himself,  but he still frets over which outfit to wear and whether he’s worn it before every time. They’re not dates, but heat still pools in his cheeks when your hands brush together walking side-by-side, crescents carved into his palms as he digs his nails into them to curb the intensity of his emotions. They’re not dates, but he wishes they were.

Inumaki doesn’t know what possesses him. Maybe it’s the lucence of your smile, so sweet, so delighted, or the vestiges of warmth from the phantom touch of your fingertips, or the way moonlight limns you pearlescent, like you’re forged of it, spun from its finely woven threads, seeping luminescence into him, to embrace every inch of Inumaki down to the very bone.

Or maybe its the coffee foam rimming your cupid’s bow.

Whatever it is, he reaches forward—eyes trained to your lips, to how they’re parted, the carnation pink of your tongue peeking from behind gleaming teeth—and swipes the foam away, his other fingers cupping your jaw with a ghost’s touch. Your lips are plush beneath the pad of his thumb, and Inumaki has to physically rend himself from staring at the pliant give of them, from imagining how they would feel against his own.

He flashes the foam dotting his finger towards you as reasoning for his actions. You stare at it, at him, and he retracts, wiping the residue on his pants. Your index and middle finger hover over where he’d touched you, as if he’d left something behind: a mark, a burn, a crater.

Shit. He messed up. Inumaki messed up. He’d crossed an unspoken boundary and now the repercussions were going to sink its teeth into and devour him whole. He should apologise—

But before the words can manifest, your lips are pressed against his.

Everything, every sensation, every sound, smell, sight, engulfs him all at once. The cant of your head, the weight of your palm resting on his thigh, the redolence of your perfume, the rustle of your jacket as you angle your body towards his.

Insistent, soft, delicate, even through the material of his mask he can feel the velvet heat of your lips eclipsing his own; moonlight ephemeral, an iridescent fever, opaline and benevolent and intoxicating.

Then it’s gone, as quick as it came; a fleeting whisper, a promise.

You kissed him. You’d just kissed him. Through his mask.

“Thanks,” you whisper, breathless, as if you’d done it with fervour, as if he’d kissed you the way he’d been dying to, the way he’d been dreaming of for weeks.

The pressure of your hand against his thigh begins dissipating as you pry yourself away, intent on leaving him with nothing more than a sliver of what could be, what he’s craved for who knows how long.

Inumaki’s familiar with his tastes. He always knows what he wants. And right now is no different.

So he envelopes your wrist with his fingers, fixing your hand in place, feeling the thrum of your pulse as he yanks his mask down and leans closer.

Inumaki’s a man of very few words because he is of the philosophy that each one should matter, that they should mean something. And he’s never meant anything more in his life than when he whispers, “Again.”

Cold nips at his bare lips, the tip of his nose. It doesn’t matter. He can feel the heat suffusing from you, and he knows that it’ll be more than enough.

Inumaki is drawn to you like the tides, in umbra from the force with which he yearns for your opalescence, for you. He can taste it: the unbridled heat of your lips, the coffee melted on your tongue, the whipped cream from your dessert, the ardour of mingling breaths.

“Do it again,” he whispers, barely even that, but you’re so close now that it’s impossible you hadn’t heard, that you don’t feel the weight of it blanketing the two of you.

And when you do kiss him again, Inumaki himself wonders what he likes so much about masks.

truthfully, miserably. [m. fushiguro]

the truth came to him like a drowning man’s first breath, but came far too late; you were already long gone.

cw: literally just angst. 

wc: 1.5k.

note: this doesn’t even have a plot??? it’s just me directing my bummed out energy on my poor baby megumi i feel so bad i have to like write him fluffly headcanons or something after this.

“you’re lying.” 

megumi stiffened his body to suppress the shudder that passed through him. he worried that those words would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

how terrifying it was to watch himself become undone by those two words. he’d known himself to be an honest man, a good man. it didn’t ever occur to him that lying about something as intangible, inconsequential as his own feelings could hurt someone; could make him a worse person. 

“it’s not the right time. i’m too busy to worry about you more than i already do.”

it had been an easy lie. so easy that he was mildly convinced of it himself until the moment you’d pulled it to pieces before him and turned your back on him with a suitcase in one hand. 

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16 and akaashi 🥰

16. knows your schedule from the back of their heads (and gets shocked when there is a sudden change to your routine)

Akaashi liked to think that he knew your routine pretty well, not that you were aware of it.

You always slept past your alarm, even though you had a whole page of per 5-minute interval alarms set. He was tempted to set more for you but realised that it wouldn’t matter anyway. You were never early, but for some unknown reason, you were always able to wake up in cold sweat just before it would be too late to get to school on time. You rushed through your entire morning routine before you managed to step out of the door. You always looked just a bit disheveled when you leaped into the classroom just as the bell was about to ring. He always made the effort to see if there were any loose strands of hair that you missed so he could tug it in for you. (He didn’t really think too much about it when he did that but the swooning you felt when his long fingers slipped through your hair never did stop even though it was nearly a daily occurrence.)

Akaashi, on the other hand, always got through his mornings with leisure. He had to get back to school earlier than most for morning practices which left him plenty of time to make sure he had everything he needed before the classes actually start, meaning that he was always the one waiting on you each morning. His body clock was terrifyingly on point and he always wake up just moments before his alarm rings, always. He always looked so calm, a sharp contrast to the way you could barely breathe regularly when you slammed the classroom door open.

He froze in place for just a little (so little that you would probably miss it unless you really look) at the door when he walked in to see you already at your seat this morning. 

What was this? Why were you here earlier than him? Did you not sleep well last night? You actually seemed like you took a look at the mirror before you walk out the door today? Were you sick?

The engines in his head was running on high speed as he slowly made way to his seat in front of yours, even though on the outside he looked just as collected as ever. It was a good thing that you were being punctual, but something about it just reallly bugged him.

“Morning Akaashi.” you flashed him a quick smile when he sat down.

“Morning.” he replied, his eyes searching for any sign of you being unwell as you buried your head in the books in front of you.

He watched you sighed and pushed the book towards his direction. “Akaashi,” you mumbled as you ran your hand down your face, “do you remember if this part will be in the quiz? I straight up forgot that we had one until late last night.”

So you were back early under desperation, now it all made sense. A small smile tucked at the corner of his lips as he leaned forward which you took as him being his usual gentle self. “No,” he said and he paused before adding, “it will be in the one next week though.”

“Another one?” you sighed, gripping his hand in appreciation, “Urgh, what will I do without you?”

He smiled, leaning his head on his palm as he watched you dipped back down, a small piece of hair falling down as you moved.

It tickled when the tip of his fingers just brushed past the side of your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You glanced up, smiling sheepishly as you mouthed a soft thank you.

And so the routine was back to normal.

this city (kuroo x reader)

🎀 Rejection is never easy, especially when it comes from your best friend Kuroo, who made the once foreign city of Tokyo feel like home to you. Two months of healing later, you decide you’re finally ready to move on—but he’s been hiding something. 

Soundtrack: “This City” by Sam Fischer

“This city’s gonna break my heart; this city’s gonna love me, then leave me alone.”

Size: 3.8k

Flavor: Angst

Contents: Profanity, implied anxiety? just Big Sad i’m sorry

A/N: hi everyone, this is my first official fic! i’ve read it so many times it’s starting to not make sense & i hate it a bit more with each read, but hopefully some of you will like it :’) i bash on my writing a lot but this one is actually quite important to me, so i’m just happy to be able to share it with you all ♡ [also thank u my lovely sweet angel @deadontheinsidebut for reading this over ily :(((]

Honestly, you were not ready to leave Tokyo in a few weeks.

“I can’t believe you’ve already finished your studies here,” Yaku sighs, pouting a bit with his brows knitted together. “It feels like just yesterday when Kuroo introduced you to us and we all became friends, how has it been a couple years already?”

You and the brown-haired boy are sitting together on the bus, since you bumped into him after finishing your university classes for the day earlier than usual.

“I know.” You frown, looking through the bus window to watch the buildings race past you. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think my time studying here was going to be as impactful as it was—and I sure didn’t expect to meet some of the most important people in my life here either.”

“Are you talking about Kuroo?” Yaku teases. “That’s surprisingly generous coming from you, considering I’ve never seen you two be nice to each other.”

“I’m talking about all of you except him.” You roll your eyes. “I would’ve been just fine not meeting that dude. Probably would’ve made my life easier too.”

Yaku doesn’t say anything, but he watches you and waits, grinning.

“… Point taken.”

You said that sarcastically, of course; Kuroo was one of the first people you met when you moved to Tokyo for school, and had become one of your closest friends over time.

He was a loser, but he’d brought your life in the city joy, companionship, and color. He made what was once a new, foreign place, feel like a second home to you.

But you couldn’t say there wasn’t a little bit of truth behind your statement—if you hadn’t met Kuroo, your life probably would have been easier.

For one, you wouldn’t have fallen in love.

For another, you wouldn’t have gotten your heart broken.

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