✗ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
✗ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭; 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔
✗ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟑.𝟐𝐤
✗ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐨/𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫*𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐜*𝐡𝐨𝐥; 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐱/𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭: 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐠/𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬 , 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦/𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮/𝐬𝐬𝐲), 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝/𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨/𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠
✗ 𝐀/𝐍: !𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭! 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 (𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒!!!) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐞 <𝟑
✗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭…
“Mad has pink hair”, is the first thing to leave Oikawa Tooru’s mouth when his fellow bandmate and best friend enters their practice room half an hour later than usual.
At the mention of the lead singer, your head almost brutally whips to the side and nervously searches for the sight your best friend has just pointed out. And, as you let out a shaky sigh, you try to keep your composure as best as you can but just as usual, this turns out to be a bigger struggle than you make it to be.
However, despite the intensity of Kyoutani Kentarou’s dominant and strong aura, you can't stop yourself from letting your gaze subtly roam his tall figure.
His body is covered in dark leather from head to toe, the only colored part of his appearance being his freshly dyed pastel pink hair; tons of chains casually dangling from his waistband but also adorning his tattoo covered neck. Your eyes find their way to his strong hands, the dark lines on his tanned, veiny skin sending shivers down your spine and within a second, you catch yourself thinking about the mental image of having them wrapped around your throat.
You feel yourself getting flustered at the mere thought of doing such lewd things with the lead singer, yet every single night it’s him you think of when your hand finds its way into your drenched panties, regardless of how much he intimidates you.
A soft sigh falls past your lips when his strong scent, a mixture of cigarette smoke and citrus, hits your senses in the best way possible. However, that exact scent easily pulls you back into reality.
By the time you find your way out of your arousal filled haze, you’re quick to notice two pairs of eyes boring into you from the side.
“Why don’t you just take a p- ouch, Iwa!”, Oikawa’s soft voice breaks into a whine at his best friend’s elbow hitting his stomach in a rather harsh way and for the nth time within just an hour, you’re grateful for Iwaizumi’s presence and ability to keep the pretty guitarist in his lane.
“Sorry, little one”, Hajime mumbles and rolls his eyes, his fingers pulling the little cigarette from behind his ears before he gently lays it in between his lips and lights it right after, “he’s even more talkative than usual.”
“It’s okay-”, “I’m sorry for being late, guys, traffic was a pain in the ass as usual”, Kyoutani’s deep, raspy voice easily overtones your weak attempt at voicing out your gratitude towards Iwa and you hate, yet love the effect he has on you.
You don’t even care that he blatantly interrupted or hasn’t even made the effort to at least glance at you. Just the mere thought of his presence as close to you as possible is everything you need and want.
And you’re very much aware just how pathetic you are, but at this point you can’t bring yourself to deny anything regarding Kyoutani Kentarou anymore.
After knowing him for as long as you do, you’ve finally come to accept his rather negative or neutral, both equally bad, feelings towards you.
It’s been literal years since Iwaizumi, your childhood best friend and neighbor, had introduced you to his grumpy bandmate yet nothing has changed ever since.
Kyoutani’s never even tried to like or get to know you, despite the large amount of time you spent with him and the other guys.
In the beginning you struggled a lot with his distant attitude, your brain making sure to plant the thought of his distance towards you being your weight and your general physical appearance but as the years went by, you just grew used to it. Back then, he used to startle you whenever he started talking, whereas now you just enjoy the soothing sound of his raspy voice.
You can’t remember when exactly you had developed the huge and disgusting crush on the lead singer with the buzzcut, you just know that at one point you couldn’t stop thinking about him. It didn’t take long for you to realize just how bad you had fallen for him — a guy who made it seem like talking to or just looking at you was pure torture.
Iwa was also rather quick to notice your shy glances and dreamy stares towards his tattoo clad best friend.
But he waited until you came and talked to him about it, knowing you needed the time to process your own feelings before he got indirectly involved.
To his, and probably your own surprise too, you told him to never ever mention anything when Kyoutani is around. You simply didn’t and still don’t want him to know with the sole intentions of saving your own heart. You’ve had enough guys break your heart or take advantage of you because of your bigger body, you certainly don’t want to go through another one of those heartbreaks.
Because after everything, one thing won’t ever change — Kentarou doesn’t like you.
A harsh fact you’re very much aware of, which is why you definitely don’t need him to explicitly voice it out and make you feel even worse about yourself than you already do.
And you definitely like the little fake image of him, which you’ve created in your head over the past few years way too much to let go just yet.
So, just as usual, you calmly avert your gaze to the floor and let out a soft sigh before you let yourself get back to reality.
“Don’t worry about it”, Iwaizumi replies calmly, running one of his ring clad hands through his thick hair as he approaches the pink haired lead singer, “Tadashi’s sucking off Terushima in the storage room, so we can’t get started anyway”, he casually adds, eliciting a groan of annoyance from Kyoutani, but soft giggles from you.
“I woke up horny so I didn’t last as long as usual, big boy”, Terushima, the band’s drummer and Kyoutani’s best friend, suddenly exclaims as he strolls out of the door at the very back of the practice room, followed by his freckled boyfriend, Yamaguchi Tadashi.
“We said no more blowjobs in the storage room, Teru”, Kentarou scolds the drummer, softly knocking the fake blonde’s head to the side as he comes to stand in front of him, “there are always cum stains everywhere and you never clean up after yourself, you fucking cunt.”
“Always with the swearing, I swear to God..”, Oikawa sighs and rolls his eyes as he puts his hair into a little bun before grabbing his guitar with care.
“Jokes on you, I cum in my bunny’s mouth, all the way down his pretty throat. He’s the one who likes to get messy”, Terushima shamelessly replies, his response making all of you let out growls of annoyance and slight disgust because of its lewdness.
“Yuuji!”, Tadashi finally intervenes, freckled cheeks tainted in the deepest shades of red as his boyfriend’s choice of words leaves him flustered.
“Was that TMI?”, this time he looks directly at you and without missing a beat, you nod.
“Of fucking course it was, you little piece of-”, “That’s enough, you little fuckers. Let’s just get started with practice already, we’ve got an important gig soon”, Iwaizumi is the one to take the lead; his naturally dominant aura making it way easier for him to handle two personalities as strong as theirs.
“Oh, my Goodness– yes! I just know this time we’re gonna get that producer to listen to our tracks and put us under his label and after that we’re going to get big. I can feel it in my cock”, Oikawa replies, his pretty eyes gleaming with excitement as he talks about his biggest dream.
You can’t help but smile at the way neither of the boys say anything, knowing all of them think- or hope for the exact same thing to happen. After all, they've been working towards this exact dream for literal years now.
And now that they’ve finally gotten such a good opportunity, it’s been a lot more stressful and nerve-wrecking than they had expected it to be. This isn’t the first time said producer’s going to watch the boys perform live, but this performance is going to be their last chance to show him their potential.
You don’t know what’s going on with Kyoutani but you know the other three boys are basically just piles of anxiety and nervousness after months of waiting for this day to come around.
“You’re right, Zumi”, Kyoutani sighs and takes off his heavy leather coat, exposing his toned body to your hungry eyes and without even hesitating, you let your eyes take in the sight of his black shirt basically clinging to his torso.
However, just when he’s about to keep talking, your eyes fall to his right hand and at the sudden sight of his bruised, partly even blood covered knuckles and fingers, you can’t help but let out an audible gasp.
“What?”, Terushima quickly reacts to you, his eyes roaming your face nervously before the other boys, including Kyoutani, turn their heads to look at you.
“Your uhm- your knuckles”, your voice is a mere whisper, the lead singer’s intimidating gaze making your heart pound against your rib cage, “you’re bleeding.”
Kyoutani tilts his head to the side before he lifts his right hand up, obviously not even remembering his little injury as he nods and just shrugs it off.
“What the fuck happened, Kenta?”, Iwaizumi hisses, approaching the younger one with concern-filled eyes before he comes to stand in front of him.
“It’s not a big deal”, said singer just replies, pulls himself out of his best friend’s grip and moves to grab one of the water bottles you had set on a random chair when you arrived, “I got into a fight with my...him. I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
You gulp harshly at his words; instant memories of Kyoutani’s current situation at home flashing up in your mind and easily sending shivers of discomfort down your spine.
He doesn’t talk about it with you, of course he doesn’t. But from what Hajime and Tooru have said, you know that Kyoutani has always been struggling with his family due to several reasons.
You don’t know as much as you’d like to, but you’d rather not dig further into something, especially if the possibility of Kyoutani getting mad at you knowing about his life is potentially high.
“Bro”, Terushima lets out a deep sigh, his pierced brows furrowed in anger and a soft blush grazing the apples of his cheeks as he takes his best friend’s face into his big hands, “you have to move out. Take your mother and the girls and get the fuck out of there or else he’s going to make you kill him.”
You attentively watch the way Kyoutani’s whole body tenses up at the drummer’s words, his hands balled into tight fists and his jaw visibly clenching.
The heavy tension in the air feels suffocating; breathing properly suddenly seems like a whole challenge and with one glance at Yamaguchi, you know you’re not the only one to feel that way.
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that when he’s not letting them go, Teru? Every time I tell my mother to pack her and the girls’ fucking bags, he threatens her with some kind of shit and makes her back out of it”, Kyoutani presses through gritted teeth, the volume of his voice steadily growing the more the madness seems to take over him.
“And besides that”, he sighs, “it’s not like we have anywhere to go. Neither of you can take us in and I simply can’t get us a new apartment because I don’t have any money”, and suddenly, you feel your heartbeat picking up its pace with such intensity, you feel it thrumming in your throat.
It takes you a good minute to calm yourself down, the thoughts racing through your mind are easily sending you into a heavy bliss of anxiety and nervousness.
However, before any of the guys can say anything or you get the chance to overthink that one thought in your head, your body acts before your mind can follow.
“You could stay at my place”, you throw into the silence of the big practice room; your voice a lot steadier than you expected it to be, “my sibling just moved out and I have a spare room your mum and sisters could stay in”, you explain with your gaze falling to the floor when the fear of Kyoutani’s reaction overwhelms you.
“What? Are you serious? Don’t you dare fuck with me, Y/N”, he suddenly hisses; his brows furrowing even further and the way he comes closer to you has you gulping harshly.
It’s not even necessarily his choice of words but the general fact he’s even directly talking to you, which has your head spinning from the heaviness of your anxiety.
“Watch your language when you speak to her, Kenta”, Iwaizumi adds, quickly coming to stand next to you, knowing his other best friend has a tendency to let his emotions take over his rational thinking.
“Yes”, you say quickly, finally getting yourself to actually lift your head and meet his strong gaze, only to look away after a solid second because of the intensity of his stare, “I am either at work or campus most of the time and barely have anyone come over, so I don’t really mind having you guys there. And you don’t have to give me any money, either. My parents bought us the apartment before they passed away, so I don’t have to pay for rent anyway.”
Kyoutani listens to your every word, his eyes rapidly roaming your face as you speak before he lets out a loud sigh of relief, followed by his facial features softening in a way you’ve never experienced before.
“That’s uhm- that’s really kind. Thank you, Y/N”, he sighs and when his lips suddenly stretch into a genuine, sweet smile to the point that his dimples appear on each side of his cheeks, you can’t help but look at him in complete shock.
“Of…course”, you smile back awkwardly, pulling at your fingers and trying your best to calm your heart and mind down, “I know how it feels to live in an abusive household, so I’m always happy to help someone escape from one.”
In response to your words, silence fills the room.
And that’s when you realize that, different than usual, you actually mentioned something this significant about yourself to someone other than Iwaizumi.
You feel the anxiety crippling up your spine in the most disgusting way possible; a shaky exhale falling past your lips as your body desperately tries to calm your rushing mind down.
“Anyway”, you suddenly say, nervously scratching your neck while lifting your head to meet Kyoutani’s slightly overwhelmed gaze, “how about you tell your Mum to pack her stuff so we can pick her and the girls up and bring them to my flat? I’ll make sure to make them feel at home, I promise.”
You don’t really know why or how you managed to form all those sentences when Kyoutani Kentarou, the guy you’ve been hopelessly crushing on for years, is standing so close and is actually talking to you. However, you definitely like the warmth spreading in your chest and the pride filling your veins when you think about all those times you oh so desperately wanted to talk to him, but let your anxiety get the best of you.
But, none of that changes the fact that your heart is brutally slamming against your rib cage, thrumming in your ears with such high volume, you struggle to hear your own words properly.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? My youngest sister is three years old and the other one just turned five, so I don’t know if you really want to deal with kids after such long days”, Kyoutani mumbles, running his tattooed hand over his freshly dyed buzz cut before he starts playing with the rings on his fingers.
You can’t help but smile at his behavior. The usually so cold and distant Mad Dog, a nickname Oikawa gave him years ago, turning into this sweet, flustered little puppy right in front of you is definitely not something you’ve expected to witness any time soon.
“I like children and they usually like me”, you smile encouragingly, “so yes, I am sure I’m okay with this. Give her a call and tell her we’ll be there after you guys finish practicing. We can grab some food on the way and maybe some snacks for the girls because I only have instant ramen noodles and two bananas in my kitchen right now”, you continue, earning a loud groan of disappointment from your best friend who loves to spend his time scolding you for your awful eating habits.
“Alright then, I’ll do that really quick and – thank you, Y/N. I appreciate this a lot”, Kyoutani gives you one last smile of gratitude before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, quickly sticking a cigarette in between his lips as he exits the practice room to talk to his mother.
And as soon as the pink haired lead singer disappears, you let go of the breath you’ve been holding subconsciously.
“Damn, little one”, Oikawa suddenly says, throwing his arm over your shoulder and casually pinching your chubby cheeks with his slim, ring clad fingers, “you’re finally gonna get a chance to suck his cock just like you’ve been imagining it.”
“Oh, fuck off, Tooru”, you hiss through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes at his words before you push him away from you.
“He’s kinda right, though”, this time it’s Yamaguchi’s soft voice which gently cuts through the silence in the practice room and with your eyebrows raised in utter shock, you turn to face the freckled boy, “don’t get me wrong, I am not saying you’re gonna jump his bones now. But you’re getting to spend some more time with him alone and at some point he won’t have a choice but to talk to you, so the two of you might get closer”, he explains, his words making it even easier for your brain to create a row of fake scenarios and without replying anything, you nod softly.
“Or you just tell him you want him to father your children and boom, case solved.”
At Yuuji’s take on the situation, the whole room grows silent, yet again. Only Tadashi reacts by giving him a soft kiss on the lips before the others continue to get their instruments ready.
“I’ve told you this a couple of times but he doesn’t hate you, I promise”, Iwa continues after a beat of silence had filled the room, “especially not after this, so stop being so fucking shy about it.”
At the persistent tone of his voice, you can’t help but look at Iwaizumi with furrowed brows since he’s never been like this when it came to your not so little crush on his bandmate.
But before you can even question it in any way, the front door is being opened again and you watch the front singer walk back inside.
When Kyoutani returns, a big smile is planted on his face and literal relief gleams in his usually so cold gaze, a sight you definitely could get used to. And for the first time in years, he looks you directly in the eyes and shoots you a wink; his change in demeanor leaving you completely overwhelmed. Yet you can’t help but feel your whole body growing hotter as your head repeats the beautiful image inside of your mind until it becomes the only thing up there.
Usually, practice goes by rather slowly. You enjoy spending time with your best friends and listening to their music; the general atmosphere in the practice room calms you down in a really different way which is why you even crave these kinda evenings after long, exhausting days.
However, this time the three hours of practice seem to fly by because by the time the boys start packing up again, you struggle to remember which songs they played and what they talked about in their short smoking breaks.
You know it’s because your body is still buzzing with anxiety at the thought of Kyoutani and his family staying at your house but for some reason you also can’t stop overthinking what your best friend had told you a couple of hours ago.
Iwaizumi isn’t the type of person to just say something without there being some kind of meaning to it, not even if it’s to calm you down, so now you’ve already come to the point where you can’t seem to stop yourself from reading more into his words than usual.
“Kawa picked you up, right?”, the sudden sound of Kyoutani’s voice filling the rather quiet practice room is the one to pull you out of your thoughts and without properly processing who actually asked you that question, you start nodding.
“Alright”, he adds and pushes his freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, “then we won’t have to go in separate cars”, Kyoutani locks his phone and pushes it into his pocket before he looks up at you and then searches for a lighter.
You’re quick to hand him the one in the little front pocket of your bag which you carry around in case Iwaizumi or Oikawa happen to have lost theirs again.
There’s a bit of an awkward silence filling the empty space of the alleyway, making it a bit harder for you to maintain your composure and despite the cold weather, you can’t help but appreciate the fresh air filling your lungs.
“Kimiko and Koharu”, Kyoutani suddenly begins and places his cigarette between his plump lips, the names obviously making him smile and you can’t help but look at him with confusion written all over your face.
“The one who just turned five is Kimiko and the three year old’s name is Koharu”, he’s quick to explain it and as you realise that he’s talking about his little sisters, you understand his genuine and soft reaction.
As you watch the way Kyoutani takes a long drag from the deadly stick, you decide not to add anything to his words just yet because it feels like he has a little bit more to tell you about the two girls you’re about to meet.
And just as you expected, he continues to talk once he starts blowing the smoke out with a soft sigh.
“To keep it short: they’re basically like ‘Kawa and Zumi”, he explains to you and this time you can’t stop your lips from stretching into a wide smile at his words.
“Now I need you to elaborate on that, please”, after finally letting yourself calm down a little you manage to make a comment and when Kyoutani chuckles softly, the tension in your muscles finally seems to disappear.
You can hear the boys’ voices from inside the practice room and for a moment you feel the urge to frown because you won’t get to be alone with Kyoutani anymore but his voice quickly pulls your attention back to him.
“They fight and argue a lot because their personalities are so different but they also can’t live without each other”, Kyoutani runs a tattooed hand over his freshly dyed pink buzzcut, his eyes roaming your face attentively as you start nodding at his words with an approving smile on your lips.
You wonder what he thinks of you. There’s a part inside of you which wants to know whether or not he thinks you’re pretty or if he likes your eyes, your smile or your voice. You want to know whether or not he finds you attractive and maybe even sexy, your brain allowing you to ignore the possibility of him not being into bigger girls at all. But it doesn’t take long for you to get back to your usual way of thinking since you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not his type long ago and he probably doesn’t even care about what you look like because you’re not worth his time.
It takes you a good moment to shake off those annoying thoughts and in just that moment, Kyoutani decides to add something else to his explanation.
“They’re good kids. They’re well behaved and don’t really cause any problems or troubles. My Mom’s tried her best to give them what they need and their scumbag of a father treats them okay. He prefers to mentally and...physically abuse me and my Mom, just gets a little louder when they cry too much but that’s it”, Kyoutani’s words are carefully chosen; he takes his time to find the right ones and doesn’t rush himself in order to avoid any misunderstandings and it doesn’t take a psychologist to understand that he’s incredibly hesitant to open up about his family issues.
You can’t and wouldn’t blame him because you’re basically the same when it comes to these difficult topics yet you struggle to hide your reaction because after all this is the very first time he’s ever told you anything about himself.
“I think they’re both gonna like you a lot, but Koharu’s going to love you. She loves spending time with pretty girls and I honestly can’t blame her for that”, is the last thing Kyoutani casually adds and you know it’s to ease the tension in the air but as soon as your brain manages to process his words, you freeze.
You barely manage to react to Terushima’s unnecessary comments as the four boys come to join you two in front of the door and if it wasn’t for Oikawa almost brutally nudging your arm with his elbow, you wouldn’t have moved another inch for God knows how long.
Kyoutani Kentarou, the guy – your crush of several years who was basically unreachable for you up until an hour ago, told you that he considers you pretty or at least sees you as a part of the “pretty girls” and you absolutely hate the way your chest starts blossoming with this very special warmth.
“What’s wrong?”, this time it’s Iwaizumi's deep voice which brings you back to reality and when you lift your head to meet the comfort of his green eyes, you can’t help but let out a loud sigh of frustration.
“Absolutely fucking nothing”, you reply and throw your backpack over one shoulder before rolling your eyes at yourself, “and that’s the fucking problem.”
“You’re stressing me the fuck out, did you know that?”, Iwa shoots back with his eyebrows furrowed in irritation before he follows you to the cars and tells you to text him once you get home only for you to pout at him like a teenager.
Thankfully the ride to pick up Kyoutani’s Mom and sisters is a lot less stressful and nerve wrecking, mostly because you’re accompanied by Terushima and Yamaguchi but you also feel a little less tense and anxious for God knows what reason.
Something about Kentarou’s body language tells you that he seems just as nervous as you and you wonder if it’s because he’s scared of their reactions or if it’s because he’s going to stay in your apartment with them.
Neither one of you has bothered to mention it, but it seems like the only plausible option the whole plan comes with so you’ve been trying your very best to prepare yourself for the upcoming time. Of course there’s also the possibility that one of the boys takes Kyoutani in but you still like to keep your hopes up high.
You’re nervously pulling at your fingers as you calmly inhale the cold air of the night in hopes of making the waiting a little more bearable.
Kyoutani’s still talking to Terushima and Yamaguchi as they finish their cigarettes only to throw them away as soon as they hear the contagious chuckles of one of the two girls currently approaching the car alongside their mother.
You try your very best to stop yourself from staring but as you watch the girls pick up their pace just to jump into their older brother’s arms, you find yourself mesmerized by the heartwarming scenario in front of you.
It’s not difficult for you to tell the girls apart despite their similar facial features. They not only share the same hair color and style but their big smiles are almost identical and as you let your eyes roam their soft faces, you spot the little dimples on each of their chubby cheeks, the little detail basically emphasizing the family resemblance even more.
It takes the girls a good minute to shift their attention away from their older brother but as soon as their eyes meet yours, you can’t help but smile.
Yet, before you can actually greet them, you notice someone in the corner of your eye and without hesitation, you turn to face Kyoutani’s mother with a polite smile.
“Good evening, Ma’am”, you begin calmly, lifting your hand before you bow slightly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N.”
You feel your heartbeat fastening as you try your best to stop yourself from staring at her but there’s just something that makes this incredibly difficult, yet you can’t seem to point out what it actually is.
Her dark hair is put in a bun, a few strands falling into her rather young looking face and the second your eyes meet hers, you feel a sense of comfort and safety surround you like a capsule.
“The pleasure is mine, my Love”, she replies calmly before placing her delicate hands over yours, making the warmth of her skin meet yours, “thank you so much for this. You have absolutely no idea how much we needed this. I don’t know what Tani has told you already, but it’s been really bad lately and I know this is gonna do wonders for the girls.”
Her voice is soft, slightly hoarse yet oh so comforting and as you watch her speak, you can’t help but smile at her mentioning her nickname for the lead singer.
“I’m happy to be some kind of help, really. If he told me a little sooner, I would have made this offer a long time ago since I wasn’t gonna look for a roommate anyway”, you explain thoughtfully, genuinely enjoying the way Kyoutani’s mother is still holding onto your hands oh so dearly before she lets go and pushes a dark, curly strand behind her ear.
“You’ve got such a kind heart, I can tell by the way you’re looking at me. I hope your partner knows how lucky they are”, she breaks into a soft chuckle and at the mention of a lover, you can’t help but get flustered before joining her.
“I don’t have a partner”, you add quickly and shift your gaze to the floor, “but my boys appreciate me a lot so there’s no lack of that!”
Kyoutani’s mother smiles at your words, her gentle eyes slowly shift to the tall figure of her son who’s currently trying his best to balance both of his sisters on his back.
You wonder what she’s thinking about because there obviously seems to be something that’s occupying her mind yet you don’t find it in you to ask her about it just yet.
And you don’t even get another moment with her as loud cheers start ringing in your ears before you watch the way Terushima walks up to his best friend’s Mother and pulls her into a tight hug after bowing to her.
After about an hour, you find yourself cleaning up the kitchen while Kyoutani and his family get started with unpacking their things and although it’s been quite fun with the girls, you still feel this certain kind of tension lingering in your muscles.
It’s never been just you and Kentarou for longer than five minutes and now you’ve spent the last two hours casually talking to him, his sisters and his mother.
You lose yourself in your rather nerve wrecking train of thoughts and if it wasn’t for the sound of a door opening, you would have gone even deeper.
By the heavy steps and the sounds of dangling chains, followed by the familiar scent of cigarettes and vanilla you don’t even have to lift your head and finally meet the rather calming gaze of your new flatmate.
“The girls fell asleep and my mum’s in the shower”, Kyoutani whispers, the soft expression in his usually so tense and strict features suddenly making him look a lot younger than he is and you can’t help but love this side of him.
“Did you tell her about the towels I hung up for her and the girls?”
You try your best to stay calm and composed but just feeling his strong eyes roaming your body makes you nervous and all of a sudden you regret changing into your pajamas before making sure that everyone’s asleep.
In your defense: you genuinely didn’t expect to talk to any of them before heading to sleep which is why you’re now dressed in some random shorts and a really old shirt that barely leaves anything to anyone’s imagination.
And on top of it all, a wave of anxious thoughts about your body, your big thighs, your tummy and your big arms makes this whole situation a lot more difficult than it already is.
Kyoutani obviously notices the way you’re losing yourself in your train of thoughts, which is why he doesn’t hesitate much with his response.
“Mhm, I did”, he says and finally manages to make you look up at him again, “she probably hasn’t had a hot shower in weeks so I told her to take the time she needs, I hope that’s okay.”
Right before you properly process his words, you start nodding, just to stop mid-action when you realize what he had just told you.
“Wait…what do you mean she hasn't had a hot shower in weeks?”
A beat of complete silence follows your words and that’s how you know that this is one of those rather difficult topics for him.
To your surprise, Kentarou comes to sit down at the counter, nervously playing with the many rings on his fingers as he tries to find the right words.
“Her menace of a fucking husband doesn’t have a job so they can’t always pay the water and electric bills…Most of the time my money’s only enough for the rent and some groceries, so she’s been heating up water for the girls and opt to cold water for her own showers.”, Kyou’s tone shifts from angry to sad as soon as he stops talking about his mother’s partner and if it wasn’t for the weeks you’ve spent watching him and analyzing his body language, you wouldn't have noticed the way he started pulling on his fingers to calm himself down.
“My mother used to do that for us, too”, you say before you get a chance to overthink your words and you can’t help but tense up at the thought of opening up to Kentarou, someone you know but don’t actually know.
“And of course that’s absolutely okay. I want her to feel as comfortable and safe as possible; this is their home now, too”, to shift the attention away from your little slip into your own childhood, you try to wrap it up by responding to his previous question.
“Miko and Haru already love it so much, they don’t even mind sharing a bed for now”, Kyoutani continues and lets out a soft chuckle, his big hand reaches for one of the little water bottles on the counter and you can’t help but smile when you realize that he’s slowly getting more comfortable in your presence.
“Haru asked if she could sleep in my bed but your Mother intervened”, the memory of your conversation with the three year old has you smiling even bigger before you lift your head to look at him; your heart skipping a beat the moment your gazes meet, “I wouldn’t have minded that at all, though. She’s adorable and absolutely hilarious.”
And before you could even finish your little comment, Kyoutani Kenatrou throws his head back and lets out a genuine row of laughter, his reaction easily overwhelming you since you’ve literally never heard him laugh like this before. Not even with his boys.
You subconsciously start enjoying a sound so special and dear echoing through the silence of the night and you don’t even think about forgetting it ever again.
“She’s so unnecessarily funny for a three year old”, he says and rubs his chin, his eyes so much softer and calmer ever since you’ve arrived at your apartment and you can’t deny how much you like this new version of him.
“Anyway, I should get going, now that everyone’s safe and sound”, Kyoutani gets up from the chair and reaches for his jacket, doesn’t even give you enough time to register his words.
“What?”, you blurt out and look at him with confusion gleaming in your eyes, not even realising how loud your voice is.
“Huh? What do you mean? I’m leaving to stay at Teru’s”, Kyoutani explains and looks at you, adjusting his leather jacket and barely holding back his little smile in response to your outburst.
“Oh”, you sigh softly and try your very best to find the right words but you can’t avert your gaze from his strong body; basically devouring the poor guy alive and for a moment you lose absolute track, only to be pulled back into reality by the sound of Kentarou’s voice.
“Eyes on me, pretty girl”, his words hit you like a truck and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re seated already, you would have lost your balance, “what was that ‘oh’ about, hm?”
“I – uhm – I wasn’t expecting you to leave”, you reply and try to maintain the last bit of your composure but the longer you look into his hungry eyes, the weaker your knees become and for a moment you feel yourself fall even deeper into the haze of your arousal.
Kentarou seems to enjoy your reaction to his choice of words and you hate how every bit of your body wants to give yourself to him, when this is probably just his casual way of talking to people he feels comfortable around.
“Really? You’d be okay with me staying here?”
Without even missing a beat, you start nodding.
It feels like your body is running on autopilot because of the sudden change of the tension between you two.
“Yes”, you say with a little more confidence, “I’m sure your mother would much rather have you here with us, too.”
Of course you’re not going to tell him about how you're absolutely desperate to spend even more one-on-one time with him; not any time soon, at least.
“My mother, huh?”, Kyoutani smirks and takes his jacket off again, making your heart skip a beat.
All you can do is nod. Your throat has already dried up and you feel like you’re going to pass out from the sudden heat overwhelming your body. You try your very best to keep your reactions down, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt and avoiding his gaze like he’s going to turn you into stone if you looked at him.
“Hey, what happened with you and your little puppy boy?”, Kentarou asks, his voice is a little less amused and there seems to be a sudden shift in his expression which you can’t exactly pinpoint.
It takes you a whole minute to understand who he’s talking about and as soon as you realise, you roll your eyes in annoyance. Not because of him, but because of the “puppy boy” in question.
“We broke up”, you begin and get up to get yourself and him something to drink, but mostly to hide from his strong gaze, “everything was going well at first but then he got all weird and kept doing and saying things which made me super uncomfortable. Whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he got unnecessarily defensive instead of respecting my boundaries, so I called things off.”
You let out a loud sigh at the memory of your ex-boyfriend, just the thought of him never failing to exhaust you.
“What kind of things are we talking about?”, Kentarou replies calmly, thanking you for the cup as he watches you turn on the kettle.
“Only if you’re comfortable answering that of course”, he quickly adds and makes you smile just like that, yet again.
“At first, my weight was never a topic in our conversations”, you say and feel a wave of disappointment hit you, “but the longer we were together, the more he started mentioning it. But…not in the way you might think. He didn’t tell me to lose weight or fat shamed me, he actually did quite the opposite but in the most uncomfortable way possible.”
There’s a beat of silence once you finish your sentence, your focus falling to the way Kyoutani is playing with his rings as you wait for the water to boil.
“This is gonna be quite TMI and I actually can’t believe I’m telling you this, of all people, but I’ve got nothing to lose so why not”, you warn him and fill up his cup before you do the same with your own and then come back to sit right across from him.
A weird kind of comfort fills your chest; something you haven’t felt with anyone in quite a while and you've never expected Kyoutani to be the reason for this.
“I’ll be okay, go ahead, pretty one”, his response is cool and calm, yet pushes you to the edge of your seat and you hate how much his words affect you.
“He wasn’t the best with words – at all. However, his dirty talk was absolutely horrific”, you cringe at the memory of all those nights you had to listen to your past lover say things you would have never expected to hear from anyone with an ounce of decency, “he always included my weight and when we first started dating, i thought he was worshipping or like – appreciating me, but boy was I wrong.”
Kyoutani looks at you with furrowed brows and you can tell from his body language how he’s slowly beginning to despise someone he has met exactly once before in his life.
And for some reason, you like his reactions, but then again, you’re head over heels in love with him so that’s not surprising you in the slightest.
“Long story short, I dumped him after he kept calling me his…fat bitch while we were having sex”, you come straight to the point, not wanting to do this to yourself and Kyoutani any longer.
And once those words pass your lips, the lead singer’s jaw literally drops.
You try to play it cool to hide your embarrassment, taking a little sip from your tea and looking up at him through your lashes.
“Please, tell me he at least made you cum”, Kentarou suddenly whisper-growls, his dark eyes roaming your features attentively and taking in the way you gulp harshly in response to his intimate question.
“No”, you simply reply and shrug, “I didn’t get intimate with him that much, so he didn’t have that many chances but the ones he had, he actually missed.”
Kyoutani seems shocked, to say the least.
His eyes are focusing you as he tries to wrap his around the loser of a man you used to date.
“I’m glad you dumped his fucking ass”, is the first thing he says after his initial, wordless reaction, “you deserve so much better.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that”, you chuckle and scratch your neck, “I think I’m gonna take a break from seeing anyone. Being a fetish or the wannabe “success” story of people is quite draining so I’ve decided to just drop it, you know?”, you explain to him, your eyes softly meeting his gaze before they drop to his mouth and you feel your body literally aching for his soft lips on your skin, something you can only ever dream of.
Kyoutani wants to say something, anything. There are so many things on his mind, yet he falls completely silent in front of you.
But how is he supposed to tell you how he’s what you deserve? How could he possibly explain to you that he’s wanted you to be with him since the very first time he’s laid his eyes on you?
He’s not even brave enough to show any kind of interest in you with his boys, his literal brothers, around. Where is he supposed to find the balls to tell you all of the things he’s thinking?
If you only knew how much he liked you, how much he wanted to be everything those guys failed to be – in every aspect possible.
“Oh, Goodness”, you suddenly say and pull Kentarou back into reality, far away from all of his thoughts and unsaid words, “it’s so late already and I’m rambling like a teenager to you, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry about that, Y/N”, Kyoutani suddenly says and manages to smile up at you, “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to talk to me like this. And thank you for answering my question so honestly”, he continues, yet never once looks away from your face until he watches the way you get up.
He can’t help but let his gaze roam over your curves, the thick flesh of your thighs and the way your shirt is hugging every part of your body just right never fails to leave him lightheaded. A sight he’s always had to admire from afar up until today. He could be less obvious about it, but he’s had to hide it for so long already, at this point he’s just tired.
“Thank you, Kyoutani”, you say and smile at him, “I’ll go get you a blanket and a pillow so you can get comfortable on the couch. I also don’t mind sleeping here if you wanna have some privacy.” All of a sudden, you feel way more nervous than just a few minutes ago and you hate how the feeling of his eyes on your body leaves you completely lightheaded. You’re surprised you’ve even managed to form a proper sentence, let alone offer your room to him.
“The couch is perfect”, Kyoutani says and gets up, coming to stand right in front of you – a lot closer than you could have ever imagined him to be.
“I know I’ve always been quite cold to you, pretty girl”, he suddenly whispers and gently caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers, knocking every bit of air out of your lungs almost brutally, “but I actually enjoy your company a lot. My distance is just a self defense mechanism.”
His sudden explanation leaves you confused and absolutely overwhelmed but does not fail to reassure you just the way you’ve been craving it.
“I – what do you – really?” You’re stumbling over your words like a toddler, your brain just struggling to process whatever is going on and still you manage to feel hope fill the emptiness in your chest after dreaming of moments like this for so long.
“Iwaizumi told me about your worries and how you think I hate you”, Kyoutani calmly continues, reaching for your wrist before he places your hand on his own cheek, “I’ve never hated you. How could I when you’ve been nothing but kind and understanding?”
You’re…shocked.
At least, that’s the only way for you to explain the way his words leave you completely overwhelmed.
Never in a million years did you expect something like this to happen between the two of you; every single one of your daydreams is currently a lot closer to reality than you would have ever dared to imagine and you simply don’t know how to handle it.
“And I promise you, I’m not saying these things because you’re giving me and my family such an amazing opportunity. I’m telling you these things because for the first time I feel…brave enough.”
Kyoutani seems to choose his words carefully, rethinks and reassigns them as he speaks to eliminate any sort of misunderstanding.
You’ve never seen him like this; so hesitant and calm, nervous even. And although it definitely surprises you, you have absolutely no idea what to expect so all you can do is wait for what you’re about to hear next on the other side.
“Say something, Baby”, he suddenly says, his voice is a lot raspier than just a second ago and the way his hot breath fans your skin sends goosebumps over your whole body, “I don’t care what you say, just something – anything.”
“My head is – I’m – I don’t know”, you whisper and subconsciously reach for the fabric of his shirt, gripping it a little tighter than intended, but also not realising how you’ve been pulling him even closer to yourself until you look up at him with needy eyes.
“Fuck, you’re cute”, Kyou replies and closes his eyes, smiling softly before he gently nudges your nose with his, “and so fucking pretty, too. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Please, don’t do this”, you gulp harshly and wait for him to look at you before you continue, “if you’re going to b-break my heart, I can’t – I can’t take it, Kentarou”, you’re aware just how desperate you sound, but the fear of having your dreams destroyed is just too big to consider your pride right now.
“No, no, no. Baby…I’ve wanted this for so long.”
The tension between the two of you is thick and heavy, enough to almost literally cut it in half and for a short moment, you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you struggle to gasp for air.
Your thoughts are rushing through your mind at the highest speed possible, your heart basically hammering against your rib cage and your panties slowly turning into a mess with every single one of his words.
“I’ve never had towels as soft as these! Might wanna show me where you’ve got these from so I can – oh, Goodness! I’m so sorry”, Kyoutani’s mother suddenly exclaims and her sudden appearance manages to have the two of you take two big steps away from each other, leaving some much needed distance inbetween and you feel the tiniest bit of embarrassment washing over your body as you look away from the sweet woman’s face.
“I didn’t mean to walk in on you like this, pardon my manners, my sweet Y/N”, she says and looks at you with apologetic eyes, not even caring a bit about her flustered mess of a son right next to you.
“No, no, it’s okay, Ma’am”, you reply quickly and scratch the back of your neck before you reach for your phone and finally dare to look at Kyoutani, “it’s no problem.”
“You know what? I’m just gonna go back to the room and head to sleep. Goodnight, sweet loves.”, is everything she says and basically speed runs into her shared bedroom with the girls, probably more than just aware of the awkwardness she’s put you in.
“She’s always had amazing timing”, Kyoutani mumbles and rubs his forehead before he scratches the back of his head and looks up at you.
“Did you see how she literally ran away?”, you chuckle and throw your head back, finally getting rid of some of the tension in your bones, especially once Kentarou calmly joins in on your amusement.
“How about we talk about this tomorrow morning, hm? Today was a big day for everyone so I think it's best if we call it a night for now”, all of a sudden you seem a lot more confident than just a few minutes earlier and you have absolutely no idea how to feel about it.
“You’re right, yeah”, is all Kyoutani says before he gets up again and takes another sip from his tea, yet doesn’t leave right away.
“Thank you for everything, pretty girl”, he mumbles and smiles softly, his eyes attentively roaming your features, “sweet dreams.”
Maybe it’s because of the exhaustion rushing through your veins or maybe because everything that has happened in the past few minutes has felt nothing but surreal, but if it wasn’t for the feeling of actual shivers running down your back, you probably wouldn’t have registered the feeling of Kentarou’s soft lips placing the softest kiss on your forehead.
By the time you find yourself lying in the comfort of your bedsheets, your heart is still brutally slamming against your ribcage and you have absolutely no idea how you’re supposed to sleep after a day like this one.
You try your very best to think of something – anything else, but Kyoutani Kentarou and his pretty face and his strong hands and how they might feel roaming your whole body in ways you’ve been craving it oh so badly, yet you seem to lose every single time to those exact thoughts.
The responsible part of your brain is already losing every bit of its patience, since sleep does not seem to be an option at all, despite the busy day you’ve got ahead, whereas your body has been enjoying all the little shivers and rushes of excitement you’ve been dealing with the past hour.
After a while, however, you simply can’t help yourself anymore. Your brain is basically stuffed with lewd images of Kyoutani touching you just how you like it and you’re way too tired to give it another thought.
The urge to just reach for your cute little toy and make yourself cum a couple of times to shut your brain out has your fingertips tingling in the best way possible, yet the possibility of someone hearing your silent noises of pleasure easily balances it out.
“Fucking…Kyoutani”, you mumble to yourself and let out a sigh of frustration, unable to control yourself any longer.
The decision might not be your best, but it’s definitely the one you prefer over staying up all night and basically torturing yourself in another way.
At this point, the way your hand finds its way into your panties is almost mechanical. Endless nights spent by yourself, taking care of your needs and your arousal in ways no man has ever managed to do.
You’re quick to bury your face in your pillow to muffle the desperate whimper you let out as soon as your fingers find your needy clit; the little bundle of nerves already swollen and way too sensitive from how worked up you’ve been all day.
As the memories of Kyoutani’s scent and the feeling of his soft lips on your skin fill your head, you start drawing firm circles into your clit, sighing every single time the motion sends a sweet sensation through your veins as you get closer and closer to your relief.
Maybe it’s the way arousal has already clouded your brain in the best way possible or maybe it’s the fact that you’re too close to pay attention to your surroundings but the second your door slowly opens, your heart basically drops to the pit of your stomach.
“Y/N?”, Kyoutani’s soft voice fills the empty space of your room in an instant and you can’t help but whimper as you quickly pull your hand out of your drenched panties, hoping he’s not aware what you’re up to.
“Yes–”, your response comes exactly a heartbeat later and you hate how tiny your voice is.
“Can I come in?”
Kentarou seems hesitant yet determined and something in the way his pretty eyes are hooked and way darker than an hour ago has your cunt clenching like crazy.
As soon as you start nodding, Kyoutani walks past your doorstep, closing and locking the door behind him, something you should have done, before he comes to stand next to you. His eyes are roaming your body, basically devouring you alive and leaving you breathless.
Nobody has ever looked at you like this.
And the fact it’s Kyoutani kentarou, of all people, just pushes you even closer to the limits of your sanity.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”, he whispers and kneels down next to your bed to be on eye level with you, making the whole situation a tad bit less awkward and as soon as you look at him, you feel your body loosening up.
“What..are you talking about, Kyoutani?”, you try your very best to stay composed but everything is overwhelming you right now and you have absolutely no idea what to think or how to feel.
“Why did you go and touch yourself when you could have just asked me instead?”
And with this one he finally manages to leave you completely speechless.
You stare at him with big eyes and your mouth open, your cunt reacting before the rest of your body has a chance and you hate yourself for being so weak in front of him.
“I don’t know what you’re–”, “Don’t lie to me, Baby”, he’s quick to interrupt you, gets on his feet again and wordlessly asks you to sit up as he reaches for your arm, “I’ve been watching you for so long, I know exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting needy. The sound of your voice changes and then your eyes…those God damn eyes of yours are the only reason for my sleepless nights.”
You’re listening to every single word he says without averting your gaze from his perfect face even once and with every single word your cunt starts clenching even harder.
Of course his sudden interest is surprising to you but you can’t hide just how much you enjoy it and if it wasn’t for the way he was gently caressing your arm, you would have thought of this as a dream.
“Do you really think, I don’t notice the way you press your thighs together whenever you stare at me for a little too long, hm?”
You know he’s teasing you, you know he’s enjoying the way you’re squirming underneath his strong gaze and you know – he won’t stop any time soon, yet as soon as your brain has processed his words, you let out the softest whimper.
“Now, now, cat got your tongue, Baby?” A soft chuckle follows his words and you feel your chest warming up at the sound, easily ignoring the situation you’re in.
You just can’t seem to focus, your brain finally shutting down, only for your body to take over and you are not quite sure if you like it as much as you expected to.
“Kenta…”, you finally manage to whisper, his first name feeling foreign on your tongue as you’ve gotten so used to being as formal with him as possible.
You’re hesitant, your voice is still tiny and a lot hoarser than just a few minutes ago, yet as soon as Kyoutani throws his head back with a moan that’s way too loud for this time of the night, you finally feel yourself letting go of every worry and doubt.
“There you go, that’s my good girl”, he’s quick to praise you for basically nothing, probably more than aware just how worked up he’s getting you.
“Tell me what you want, Baby. I promise I’m gonna do whatever it is. This is all about you.”
His offer sounds dreamy; something you’ve never heard before, something you’ve only had the courage to daydream about because asking for anything in your previous relationships felt uncomfortable.
You don’t even know why. Your ex boyfriends weren’t the best nor the worst lovers and now that you think back to it, you could have easily asked for what you want but your lack of self confidence made it difficult for you to think of yourself.
“Are you sure?”, you whisper, a wave of uncertainty hitting you the moment you think about your physical appearance. You subconsciously start pulling down your oversized shirt, trying your best to hide your big thighs and arms, way too scared of Kyoutani being disgusted by the sight of you.
“Stop that”, Kenta’s voice cuts through the tension in the air like a sharp knife and you can’t help but gasp, “of course I’m sure, Baby.”
A beat of silence follows his interruption before he places two of his tattoo clad fingers underneath your chin to push your head up and finally meet your gaze.
“I’ve wanted this – you for so long and I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. You’re perfect to me and I’m determined to show you. However, I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to. We can just kiss, cuddle or sleep next to each other. For fuck’s sake, we can just hold hands all night if that’s what you want. I want to…give you everything those little Losers couldn’t and I’m willing to wait for as long as you want me to. Got it, pretty girl?”
His words of reassurance leave you…flabbergasted.
There’s absolutely no other word to describe the way his sweet little speech has made you feel and after years of wishing for something like this – someone like him, you can’t help but get high on the addictive feeling of being wanted and desired.
“I want you, Kenta”, you reply softly, reaching for his face and gently placing your hand on his cheek, “I need you.”
And that’s exactly what he’s been waiting for.
Without missing another beat, he pushes your blanket away, revealing your pretty legs to his hungry eyes, a soft grunt escaping his throat the moment he realises you’ve gotten rid of your shorts from earlier.
“You’re so fucking hot”, he whispers and takes in the sight of your body, “please tell me what you want me to do to you or I’m gonna lose my mind.”
Kyoutani reaches for your inner thighs, pushing his hand in between your legs and gently groping the soft flesh, kneading it and never once looking away from your face to make sure he can watch the way you melt for him even further.
“I want you to eat me out, Kenta”, this time you sound nothing but needy, something he’s wanted to hear for as long as he’s known you, “I want you to be the first one to make me cum like that.”
Kyoutani’s eyes physically perk up at your request and just when you’re about to regret what you said, he starts nodding as if it took him a good minute to process your words and yet again you find yourself surprised at his intense reaction to…you.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and sit on my face, hm? I’ve been thinking about this for God knows how long”, he confesses right after gently asking you for something you never thought you’d ever get asked in your lifetime.
Which is probably why you stare at him with big, almost fearful eyes.
“No, you’re not too big and to be honest I absolutely don’t give a fuck about it anyway, I just want you to cum all over my face”, he’s quick to reassure you yet again and this time you finally push yourself to just stop worrying and nod in response to his sweet words.
Kenta’s pretty lips stretch into the sweetest smile, deep dimples appearing on each side and you feel yourself falling for him all over again.
“I’m gonna take my shirt off, okay? If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do it, Baby, I just want to make you feel good.” As he speaks, his hands find the hem of his shirt before he pulls it over his head and finally reveals his toned, tattoo covered torso to your needy eyes.
“Please”, is the only thing you can get out before you sit up on your knees and place both of your hands flat against his strong chest, gulping harshly at the feeling of his rapid heartbeat underneath your palm.
“Open your mouth, angel”, he whispers after waiting a few seconds to give you your time, “be a good girl for me, yeah?”
You have absolutely no idea what he wants to do, your head spinning way too fast from all the arousal and adrenaline rushing through your veins, yet your body reacts to his words before you can realise it.
Kyoutani nods appreciatively as you part your soft lips and look at him with curious eyes, knocking the breath out of his lungs with just one single stare.
And as you try your best not to whimper when he pushes his hand into your panties, easily finding your cute little clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, Kyoutani puckers his lips and lets a thick drop of his spit fall onto the back of your tongue.
The feeling of his saliva slowly coating the hot muscle in your mouth has your cunt clenching even harder and you can’t help but thrust your hips into his grip even further.
“Look at how needy my little princess is”, Kyoutani teases and runs his strong fingers up and down your drenched slit, “you’ve made a mess of your panties, Baby. What a good girl you are.”
All you can do is listen and nod, your mouth still wide open, his spit sits on your tongue as your body waits for any sort of command from the lead singer in front of you.
“Swallow.”
With the word falling past his lips, Kyou wraps his hand around your throat and growls as soon as he feels the way you swallow every bit of his spit just like that.
Before you can think another thought, he pulls you into a needy kiss, pushing you even deeper into the haze of your arousal as he pushes his tongue into your mouth and gives you exactly what you’ve been craving for so, so long
You shamelessly moan into his mouth, barely able to keep up with his fast pace from how much your head is spinning yet with every single kiss you feel your body getting hotter.
“That’s my good girl. Now, if you keep doing so well for me, I’m gonna give you my cock, too. You want that, don’t you?”, Kyoutani nods along with you, his soft lips pouting slightly as he takes a step back and looks at you.
The two of you switch places, whereas you struggle to stay still from how bad your legs are already shaking as you take off your ruined panties, but as soon as Kentarou places his head on your soft pillow, you crawl back onto the bed, loving the way his hand never once stops touching any part of your body.
After taking another breath of courage, you sit yourself up and finally spread your legs over his perfect face, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you once you realise just how wet you are.
“Look at this perfect cunt”, but with just a few words, Kyoutani wipes away all your doubts.
"Fuck", you whimper as soon as Kenta’s hot breath meets your hot flesh, his face so incredibly close to your cunt, it you simply can’t help but whimper.
“Look at my sweet, sweet girl", he whispers and slowly collects your arousal ok his pretty fingers before he pushes them into his mouth with his powerful gaze focused on your face, “mhm..just as sweet as I thought", he adds with a little smile.
Your fingers instantly wrap around the headboard of your bed the second his digits find your sensitive clit. Kyoutani doesn't even give you the time to get used to the feeling of his fingers against your flesh as he licks a long stripe over your drenched pussy. You throw your head back almost brutally, your hips moving against his skilled tongue the second he starts thrusting the muscle inside of your sensitive hole.
Kyoutani eats you out like a man starved, loud slurping noises, deep grunts and heavy moans as well as your high pitched whines and the pathetic attempts of saying his name being the only noises to fill the silence of your room.
Your hips seem to have a life of their own as they grind against his mouth in hopes of reaching your oh so desperately needed high. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, your orgasm so close you can literally taste it on the tip of your tongue and when he decides to insert two of his strong fingers, you know you're going to stumble over the edge head first.
Your cunt starts spasming around his digits every time Kenta grunts against you. As your moans get louder, your whimpers a lot needier and the grip on the headboard tighter, you slap a hand of yours over your mouth to muffle your noises.
You look down between your legs, his beautiful eyes focused on you and just as your lids are about to flutter shut, Kyoutani lifts your hips away from his mouth, leaving you high and dry just like that.
A loud whimper leaves your lips, your heart thrumming in your throat with your cunt clenching around nothing, the sudden ache in combination with the frustration literally sending tears into your eyes.
You press your thighs together with quiet sobs, "w-why?", you ask him with your voice dripping in arousal and just as you're about to bury your face in your arm to silence yourself, Kenta grabs your waist again, and pulls you onto his naked lap, his hard erection laying flat against his toned stomach; precum already staining the tanned skin of his stomach.
“I'm sorry, Baby", Kyoutani says and caresses your sides softly, "I need to be inside of you, pretty girl", he whispers and gently moves your hips to rub your cunt against his sensitive tip.
As soon as you feel his pulsing cock against your sensitive flesh, you bury your face in his neck and try your best to muffle your high pitched moans.
It’s then that Kyoutani sits up with you in his arms before he takes your face into his big hands and finally pulls you into a needy kiss before he places a soft one on your forehead and then pushes you on the other side of your bed.
“Gotta make sure you stay quiet, Baby”, he whispers right into your ear and moving his hips in between your spread legs and gently slapping his cock against your cunt. You can tell how much he’s holding himself back from the thin layer of sweat covering his skin and his strong grip on your waist.
Your brain is so clouded by your arousal, you barely register his words, only remembering that he had said something when he suddenly pulls away and comes to sit on his knees with his pretty fingers firmly wrapped around his cock.
“You’re – big”, you whisper and stare up at him, subconsciously pushing your shirt up and groping your tits as the arousal completely overwhelms you. With anybody else, you would have never done something so lewd and brave but with Kentarou, everything just feels natural.
“I know, Baby”, he responds and teases your sopping wet hole with his leaking tip, looking up at you with flushed cheeks and needy eyes, “I haven’t been with anybody in months, I promise. Please tell me you’re on the pill.”
“Yes, yes, I am – please just fuck me already”, your words are basically slurred and rushed, not an ounce of composure left as you look at him.
Kyoutani is quick to spit on your drenched cunt, his hot saliva slowly dripping down your folds before he aligns himself up with your clenching hole, yet only pushes the tip in.
“Kenta”, you start whining way too loud, not even realising and caring even less, just wanting to feel what you’ve been dreaming about for literal years.
Kyoutani however just takes a deep breath, obviously trying his very best to calm himself down and not just ram the whole of his length inside of you because he knows how careful he has to be.
It doesn’t take him too long to regain his composure and place his big hand over your mouth after bending down to be as close to your face as possible.
“Look at, princess”, he whispers and gives you another forehead kiss, slowly pushing his cock a tad bit deeper inside of you and without even realising, your eyes roll into the back of your head, “come on, Baby, look at your boy, hm? Be good for me, look in my eyes when you take my cock.”
How could you ever deny him a request as sweet as this one?
Without missing another beat, your gaze meets his and just when you’re about to whimper from how soft the moment feels, Kyoutani thrusts his hips in just the right way, pushing almost his whole length into your sensitive cunt.
No matter how good you’ve made yourself feel before this, nothing comes even close to the feeling of his tip grazing your sensitive walls, leaving a trail of precum inside of you and pushing you closer to the edge every time he twitches in response to your body’s reactions.
A row of muffled moans and grunts fills the silence in your room and you both try to take in the overwhelming feeling of being as close as never before, something you would have never imagined to become reality, which is probably why you feel yourself growing slightly lightheaded.
“Good girl”, Kyoutani growls softly, bottoming out inside of you and letting out a guttural moan at the feeling of his tip grazing the entrance to your womb.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight", he hisses through gritted teeth, giving you the time to adjust to his impressive size, your breaths hitching in your throat because of the amount of pleasure rushing through your veins.
“That’s my good little slut, you’re taking my cock so well, Baby. I’m so proud of you”, Kyoutani mumbles against your cheeks before he starts slowly moving his hips.
“More, Kenta, I want – ngh, fuck – need more", you whine and scratch your nails over the skin of his broad back when his movements start picking up pace.
His long and sensually slow strokes against the sensitive walls of your cunt give you a hard time focusing on anything else but him and his cock.
Kyou hums in satisfaction at your words, his thrusts even deeper than just a second prior and the way he pulls all the way out only to thrust into you with full force leaves you dizzy.
Your mouth falls open as his harsh pounding elicits loud (yet still muffled) whimpers from you with every single thrust and at this point, you’re way too far gone to realise how loud you’re being.
Kyou fucks you just how you needed it: edging you multiple times as he brings you close to your orgasm, only to pull away when you're about to let go.
Your cunt firmly clenched around his thick cock like a god damn vice, your whole body on fire with sweat dripping down your temples and your own drool coating your chin because of your inability to close your mouth.
"P-Please, Kenta", you whimper with a tiny voice the second he lifts his hand from your mouth,the taste of your orgasm coating your tongue because of how close you are.
“You've been so good for me, Baby, so fucking good. Cum for me, show me how good I can make you feel", he orders and with the words leaving his beautiful lips, you finally stumble over the edge head first.
Waves of pleasure overwhelm your whole body, your sight turning blurry for a solid second as the intensity of your orgasm has you choking on your own breath.
You feel Kyou’s hungry gazes on you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You take a deep breath after finally calming down again, your fingers finding his cheek before you look him in the eyes. A choked out moan leaves his lips before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering as you apply pressure,
"Fuck, I’m cumming", Kyoutani whispers, his voice is strained because of his heavy breathing and you can tell by his sloppy thrusts and soft whines he's about to reach his high.
“Do it, Kenta, need you to fill me up", you whisper into his open mouth, your lips connecting as you start swallowing his beautiful noises and with one last thrust, Kyou’s whole body tenses up before he cums inside of you, painting your cunt in the prettiest shades of white with the thick spurts.
Kyoutani throws his head back with a sharp inhale once he’s pulled out before his gaze shifts back between your legs and attentively observes the way his orgasm dribbles out of your tight cunt with his eyes gleaming in excitement.
You have absolutely no idea when or how you fall asleep, convinced Kyoutani has fucked you into the deepest sleep you’ve ever experienced. What you do know is the fact that Kyoutani was calmly sleeping next to you, just to wake up to him being long gone.
You try not to worry too much about it, knowing how busy he is at the moment and calming yourself down with a shower and some fresh clothes.
“Good morning, Ma’am”, you say and wave at the girls before you turn to their mother, smiling gently at her as you hope she slept through everything that had happened last night.
“Good morning, sweetness”, she smiles back and hands you a cup of coffee, “Tani’s left already. He told me he’s going to stay at Yuuji’s tonight so we won’t have to wait for him, I thought I’d let you know.”
And as she continues with her breakfast, you feel your heart sink into your stomach in the worst way possible when you manage to process her words.
What a fucking bastard.
Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only
Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: authority/power-play, boss/employee relationship, age-gap, size difference/size kink, public heavy petting/fingering, rough sex, desk sex, praise kink, use of “good girl,” light choking/breath play, hand pressed over reader’s mouth, hair pulling, creampie (Enji is implied to be divorced, no cheating) trapped in an elevator for a while, so warnings for claustrophobia and elevators in general.
A/N: Special thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @titan-fodder for reading over this bad boy, and extra special thanks to my power going out right as I was excited to post this. God how I’ve missed Endeavor. One horny thought turned into over 6k. Enjoy ❤️
Endeavor’s name and presence is all over his hero agency. On every letterhead, blazing neon red letters on the front of the building, on company sweatshirts and stamps, email signatures, and even every pen and notepad. Yet the man himself is hardly ever seen.
Working directly for the titular hero of the agency as his senior support staff means that you see him more than most, and even still, his flaming body is a rarity to you.
So it’s a shock to see him in the elevator this morning, fire extinguished due to the spacial hazard. He’s dressed casually, white dress shirt and navy trousers. It’s too early for his hero duties to begin, the clock having not yet struck 9 a.m.
“Good morning,” you whisper with your eyes averted; his proximity always makes you anxious.
“Morning.”
He greets you with a curt nod as you step into the elevator from the parking garage floor.
Your first instinct is to press yourself to the farthest wall away from him. There’s an obstacle, however, one of his many sidekicks already twiddling his thumbs with worriment against the right wall. Endeavor stands in the back left corner, arms crossed, muscles bulging. You stick to the front of the car, leaning against the cool wall near the control panel.
The top-most floor is where you’re headed—same as your boss.
Seguir leyendo
my mom just had a 7cm brain tumor removed and since she's woken up she's been talking nonstop about this dream she had about going to an art gallery full of colourful paintings by a 'homosexual artist' named klimsdorf who was ethereal and wise, both young and old... at first she was convinced he was a real person but after failing to find him online she's accepted he was a figment of her subconscious mind and is now determined to bring him to life via painting his portrait herself. she's 67 and has never drawn in her life. and now this. blorbo from her tumor
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had
synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling
— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)
— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)
— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON
you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.
it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.
“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”
satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?
“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.
you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.
“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”
your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”
“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”
satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on.
why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.
“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”
“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”
“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”
you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.
gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend.
not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.
but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned.
and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast.
he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?
satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?
it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up.
you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek.
and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand.
he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?
—————
breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway.
gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that.
satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake.
but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.
“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”
“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.”
satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit.
satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself.
you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness.
“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench.
“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”
you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him.
“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.”
your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself.
“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”
“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”
the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with?
—————
you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him.
in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded.
it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings.
you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too.
suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well.
there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend.
everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings.
every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted.
in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself.
you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on.
before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole.
satoru. of course.
he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.
you shouldn’t open it.
but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?
before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands.
“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”
“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”
you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know.
“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn.
“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”
“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff.
the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away.
“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”
and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here.
“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him.
“why did you leave me?” he asks.
“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”
“why? just tell me why.”
“i don’t have to—”
“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists.
and then you break.
you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love.
so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”
you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days.
“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”
“you can realize a lot in a month—”
“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”
“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly.
satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out.
“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”
“satoru, you need to leave—”
“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”
“i didn’t ask you to—”
“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”
“satoru,” you plead.
you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.
satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.
“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head.
his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.
“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying.
“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.
satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight.
“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper.
it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.
“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray.
satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion.
you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could.
“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”
“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”
“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.
“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”
“because i couldn’t!”
“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt.
it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you.
“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”
“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”
you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”
“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”
“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.
he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating.
“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”
“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”
“promise?”
“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”
“you deserved that.”
“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”
“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”
“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”
“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.
yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known.
“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him.
but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.
“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”
if this fic was a person i would want it dead.
On the way... | sennarelax
Location: Interlaken, Bernese Oberland Region, Switzerland
My favourite thing about Netflix mobile is that every so often it glitches and—
You know what? Fuck you.
*unshrinkies your dinks*
Pairing: Erwin Smith x F!Reader (Modern AU) Word Count: 5.4K Warnings: anxiety, swearing, alcohol, work stress, secret relationship, teacher-student relationship, age difference, explicit sexual content, nudity, fingering, desk sex, a little possessiveness, size difference, talk of marriage and having kids, drunk Nile, mention of a sex dungeon, lots of romance, marriage, pregnancy/children A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift for the lovely @lady-lauren. 😊❤️ Merry Christmas, Lauren! (Also: To anyone else reading this, IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT!)
FIRST CHRISTMAS
You really should have known things wouldn’t go according to plan when your plane nearly slid off the icy runway. But you were trying to be optimistic.
And you are in desperate need of a vacation.
Even now, as you stand at the edge of a group of fellow travelers, waiting to find out if your flight is just delayed or outright canceled, your phone keeps buzzing in your bag.
You know you turned off Teams notifications. But apparently, your office group chat — or at least part of it — has migrated to a group text.
With a sigh, you glance down at your lock screen, a familiar anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach. You feel guilty enough as it is, taking a week off to escape what already feels like an endless winter. But it felt like it was meant to be when you spotted an all-inclusive vacation deal at a Hawaiian resort.
The last thing you need, on top of a very untimely blizzard, is workplace drama and news that your boss has fired his third secretary in as many months.
As you swipe the notifications away, an airline employee confirms the news you’ve been dreading: Your connecting flight is canceled, and the soonest you can fly out is tomorrow morning — Christmas Day.
Nearly twelve hours from now.
And that’s only if the weather decides to cooperate.
Fucking fuck.
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sometimes babygirl is a 28 year old man and that's okay :3 🎀