Ei.sfw - Blog Posts

- nvm you’re a bunch of animals.

please kiss me when you leave | k. bakugou

★ tags ; gn!reader, fluff, reader is a programmer (lol), making up, wee bit of angst, established relationship, arguing, reader is very chill and relaxed

★ wc ; 2.7k (idk either)

★ synopsis ; in the rare moments you and your boyfriend get in a spat, he thinks to himself how terrible it'd be to lose you.

★ a/n ; sorry about projecting on reader. it will happen again.

Katsuki fucked up.

Majorly. Inconceivably. Astronomically.

For the first time in his three year relationship, he's made a terrible mistake and the consequences are beginning to weigh on his conscious.

First things first, Katsuki is not a boyfriend who makes a lot of mistakes. Contrary to popular belief, his anger issues actually don't make dating difficult because his egoism and pride step-in first. If he's going to do anything, he's going to be the best at it. And anything getting in the way of that can respectfully, fuck off.

Despite some of the rockiness in the getting together stage of your relationship, when he finally made it official, things were as smooth as they could be. Before then was awful of course. Because vulnerability and love aren't things you can win at no matter how hard you try. Getting to boyfriend was like climbing a mountain naked.

But at the summit, all the snow cleared and Katsuki could finally rest easy. You met on the job when the Dynamight Agency signed a contract with you to make some technical software for them. You were the Senior Dev. responsible for it.

Truthfully, Katsuki hated you at first. For one, you were too non-chalant about all of it. It's a professional job but you showed up to work in the most unprofessional attire. To his credit your hygiene was decent but the workspace you and your team occupied was a mess. You had a bad diet, and an even worse sleep schedule.

You were a mess. Katsuki didn't like or respect you. He figures all tech people are freaks like that. All of the support engineers are nut-cases, so why would you be any different? But you were recommended to him by Deku who gushed about how smoothly everything was running with the new changes.

He didn't know anything about your job. And he didn't really understand it until he caught you half-falling asleep at your computer trying to finish something. It was probably the first time he came into the office and you were still there finishing up work - nearing 6am and clearly not having slept that he started to respect you a little.

From then on, his sense of responsibility for you grew. Mother hen tendencies and all. You and Katsuki are complete opposites in a lot of ways. Where he's hot-headed, you're relaxed. Where he's cold and calculating, you're strangely warm and sympathetic. Another shitty nerd in his life, he's fond of. Go figure.

It took him a long time to figure out his romantic feelings for you. The first work function you ever attended where you looked.. good. He felt it strike like an iron, a sense of dread overwhelming him as his heart fluttered at the sight of you.

("...You clean up decent." Katsuki stutters, trying to catch his breath.

You flash a smile that sends him reeling.

"Thanks, boss.")

From then on, through a series of mishaps and sad phone-calls - Katsuki managed to land the boyfriend position. And from there, your relationship has been considerably easy going.

A big reason for that is because you're much better with feelings than he is. You're reasonable about your own emotional affairs. In the many years Katsuki's tantrums might've caused a rift, you've handled him with care. Of course, he does his absolute best to accommodate you back. To support you, almost trying to make it up to you where he can.

But his mistakes have always been small, and petty. Even when they're bigger - you manage them like they're just small blips in the timeline. Gently and softly. You don't raise your voice even if he agitates you. It always works out. Katsuki tries very hard not to do anything that he would make you really angry.

In fact, he's never even seen you really angry. Maybe upset or annoyed, but angry? Once in his life if that. His friends and family often bestow you the title saint to which you always laugh but you are remarkably patient with him that he doesn't think it's undeserved.

So what happened last night was a a big fuck up on his part.

Last night, he came home from a long mission.

The only rule you have with Katsuki is that if something happens, you have to talk about it. This rule includes other rules, such as being able to delay said conversation for a better day and other veto privileges. But if something important happens, big or small - the other person has to know. That's law to abide by.

Last night, Katsuki came home from a long mission and he was exhausted. Nothing bad happened but his patience was running thin due to a series of unfortunate events and he wanted to come home and sleep. And he could feel the pressure of it starting to eat at him.

Everyone has tough days and this was his. Most of this could've been solved if he had just told you. If he had simply used the second rule to delay the conversation. You would've quietly slept next to him like you always did, no questions asked.

But he was tired and delirious and for some reason he decided to open his big fucking mouth. When you had very gently inquired about his mood, he immediately went silent. Then when you went and asked again, he snapped on you.

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. He didn't mean any of it.

"God, can't you read the fucking room? Do I have to spell it out for you? I don't want to talk about it right now."

He felt it immediately. The once warm room filling with a cold tension. He couldn't even lift his head, too steeped in his anger to apologize right away. It was suffocating. How long you stood there, feet planted on the floor.

And then from above him, there was a shaky sigh and a thick voice. You were upset, obviously. Too much for words. In a terrifying turn of events - you didn't even get angry. He wishes you got angry and loud. That you could've fought this out.

But you didn't. Of course not. You just sighed, frustration teeming in your voice and said.

"Right. Find me when you want to talk. I'm gonna rest in the guest room."

Obviously trying to hold it in, you took your pillows and quietly went upstairs and slept in the guest room. And Katsuki sat there for god knows how long, regretting everything. He shouldn't have done that. He wanted to sleep next to you.

When the next morning rolled around, Katsuki wasn't expecting it to be brushed over. And it wasn't, not in the way you tried to pretend things were fine. You still set out warm towels for his shower. Made his protein shake and left it on the counter. Put his hero costume up on the couch for him to take.

And you still greeted him with a tired good morning. But he could tell that you weren't all there. It was awkward. Like there was a stranger in his house and not the person he's been in love with for the last 5 years.

Silent. He's so accustomed to your morning chattiness. Rambling about the dream you had, the movie you watched, the bugs in your code you fixed. All of it disappeared in an instant. You didn't kiss him when he left for work, pausing to blabber in between before kissing him again. Running to the train so you weren't late.

You just left. Told him you'd be working off-site for a bit and that it's your turn to make dinner. He should let you know what he wants to eat.

You stood at the door, obviously debating something and then left with a short side-hug and no kiss. No kiss. He hasn't not gotten a kiss before going to work in years. He's so hung up on it he can't believe it.

It was probably right there, kiss-less in his kitchen that he realize he fucked up beyond reasonably doubt. The feeling was awful, but you were already on your way to work before he could scramble to say something.

Katsuki is bad with apologies. It's not that he isn't sorry, but he tries his best to make up for all of his short-comings with his actions and hopes people can forgive him. That he can be a good enough person that the one, choked-out sorry can be enough of a fix and that the rest can be solved with his consistent remorse.

And he does apologize to you often enough, about small and trivial things. But this doesn't really feel small and trivial. It's the kind of fight that feels like a rift, maybe that he'd gotten too complacent. The terror sets in before the rational does and all Katsuki can think is that he has to make it up to you somehow. Somehow.

He doesn't have patrols today. The only thing on the agenda is meeting with Deku about a partnership program they want to create for new heroes. Only the two of them to discuss logistics.

He can't focus at all though. Fuck.

"Kacchan?"

Deku's voice cuts into his focus once it register. He looks up from the empty space he was peering into, suddenly aware of his surroundings. A scowl settles on his features, though he's not actually mad.

"What, nerd."

"You okay? You seem off." He replies, that concerned and overly-welcoming tone. His scowl deepens.

"Fuck off."

"So there is something," Deku concludes, in a way that makes Katsuki want to punch him square in the mouth "Is it Y/N?"

"Why the fuck do you know that?"

"Uhm. Well. You're doing your sad scowl and not your mad one. And normally you only really get sad about like 3 things. Y/N makes the most sense."

Katsuki makes a face of disgust.

"You're such a goddamn freak."

Deku smiles disarmingly.

"So what's up?"

"Fuck off with that therapist shit," He says first, then relents because of course "...Got in an argument. I fucked up pretty bad."

Katsuki relays the events with a sense of dread as Deku nods and listens empathetically like he always does. And Katsuki wants to crawl up in a fucking hole for even opening up, maybe a sign of his desperation.

"That bad?" Deku asks.

"Didn't get a kiss before they left and that hasn't happened in like 3 years."

"That's so sappy, Kacchan." Deku gushes.

"Shut up if you value your life." Katsuki says with no real heat behind. He watches the nerd think on it for a while, doing some analysis he cares fuck all about before snapping his fingers.

"Have you apologized yet?"

Katsuki grits his teeth. Deku sighs.

"Kacchan."

More silence.

"Kacchan."

"Fuck you, I already know okay! But I'm just.. so fucking anxious about it. Like I know it's not the end of the world, but it just feels so damn bad."

Deku smiles in that weird, loving way that Katsuki hates.

"That's because you care about them, Kacchan. It's gonna be fine."

"Gross."

Deku laughs again and Katsuki finds himself relieved just a little. Which he resents, of course. But it's better than feeling whatever he was feeling a few hours ago so he lets it be.

__

He spends the rest of the day coming up with an apology plan and seeing it through to the end. If he was gonna say sorry, he might as well go all out.

He calls in a florist shop first, sat at his desk and asking for whatever flowers are best apology flowers. Then he calls your favorite place to eat and makes sure he can get take-out hot for the drive home. At the end of his work day, he stops by to get some shitty balloons with sorry on them and even buys the ugliest teddy bear he can find at the store because he knows he would like it.

Then he drives home with a pit in his stomach, feeling terribly stupid and a little ridiculous for being so worried about it. Because he knows it probably will be fine, but he won't relax until he's home. Until he sees you and everything is fine again.

When he finally gets home and hauls ass with the assortment of Apology Gifts he's brought - he doesn't actually find you anywhere in the house.

He knows you're there though. Because your shoes are in the doorway and your bag is on the counter but he can't find you.

It occurs to him that your showering when he hears a god-awful tune that unburdens him just a little and he decides to hijack your shower. Because he thinks that apologizing like that will probably be a whole lot easier.

So, he steps into the shower and announces his presence. There's steam fogging everything up and he's still dressed in his work clothes. He can hear your humming come to a halt as he closes the door behind him and sits on the sink.

He feels fidgety. The warm room and the smell of your bodywash relax his nerves.

"Hey," He starts. You're silent but he can hear you scrubbing so he keeps going "Just got home. I brought food so,"

And it's still quiet. Your movements have softened and there's less of an echo. Katsuki frowns.

"Look, last night," He starts afain, then stops - closing his eyes and swallowing the pit forming in his stomach "What I said. I don't know what the fuck I was thinkin' I mean... I didn't mean any of that."

Still quiet, Katsuki sighs and bites his lip.

"And nothin' really happened. Just a long mission, undercover sucks and everything was going wrong and obviously I was pissed. Not at you, never at you - I shouldn't have—fuck me, I'm ramblin' aren't I?"

He looks up at the ceiling, glances at the door, then at the shower curtain.

"I'm really sorry, baby. Really fucking sorry. Been feeling shitty about it all day."

Before he can grovel anymore, the water turns off. All of a sudden, the curtain rips open and before he knows what to do with himself - he feels your hands on his neck. You're still half in the shower, naked and dripping and your hands are wet.

But you're pulling him into a kiss and Katsuki couldn't care less about the circumstances. The tension in his chest eases completely, melts away likes it nothing and he puts a hand on your wrist. He feels like he could cry. Fuck, what happened to him? Is this what love does to people? Make 'em feel stupid?

When you pull away, you give him an audacious grin. Pleased and warm and so full of love that he could rip apart at the seams just looking at it. All the affection in your gestures that he's grown so fond of rekindle and light him anew. He loves you so much it nearly hurts to look at you.

"You're such a worry wart, aren'tcha Kat?"

He kisses you one more time, thankful you won't point out his desperation.

"Shitty bastard."

"Get me my towel so I can kiss you properly."

"...I'll help dry you off." He says. Once again, you just smile with trembling lips like you want to giggle at him but don't. Even so, you do as he asks.

He grabs a towel and drys you off slowly and patiently. You smile at him the whole time before he grabs another one to wrap around you neat. Like you promise, you kiss him for a long time after. Arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the blonde hairs on the back of his head.

"Thanks for saying sorry, baby." You say first before you coo at him "I forgive you. I'm not mad. I wasn't even mad this morning, just wanted to give you some space."

"...Even if you're pissed, kiss me before you leave," He mutters, embarrassment flooding his face "Please."

You snort.

"Promise, I will. I love you. You know that, right?"

He nods because he does, really always does. Deep down, despite the terror he feels at the idea you'll stop - he knows he loves you. But as everyday passes, he's faced with the reality that he loves you more. With an even heavier hand and much more force than he thought possible.

That corny shit people say about loving someone more everyday. He thinks he's starting to get it. At his own state, he laughs against your lips.

"Yeah I know. I love you too."

BARKING GROWLING 👹👹👹👹

Jean #AU 🏴‍☠️ (Shingeki no Kyojin)

𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 http://instagram.com/artbyshinji

𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 http://twitter.com/artbyshinji

did the meme :D

“We’re not buying those. Put them back!”

this is so soft 🥹🥹

Missed my period.

When Wakatoshi reads the text he’s half exhausted from a grueling day of training, chest heaving and sweat lining his top lip and hairline, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re telling him this. He’s straddling a bench on the sidelines with Aran Ojiro in front of him.

Maybe he stares at the text for too long because Aran’s head suddenly appears in his line of visions.

“Are you good?”

Wakatoshi blinks. “She missed her period.”

Aran’s inhale is so sharp that he starts coughing. This draws the attention of his other teammates, and Wakatoshi drops his phone on the bench to thump his friend on the back once, twice.

"Jesus Christ, Ushijima," Aran clears his throat.

"What did he do?" Iwaizumi squints at Wakatoshi.

Aran shakes his head. "What do you mean she missed her period? Like she might be pregnant?" He asks, ignoring Iwaizumi's presence and the others closing in.

Wakatoshi freezes, at the same time Hinata and Atsumu collide with each other. "Oh," he breathes dumbly.

"Oh? Oh!?" Atsumu squawks.

"Wakatoshi-kun you might become a dad!"

Oh.

Aran gestures wildly to the phone on the bench between them. "Well? Text back! Ask if they'll take a test Wakatoshi!"

A mix of dismayed groans fill the air as Ushijima fumbles with his phone. His hands are shaking he notes. And he realizes that he might be panicking just a little. A ding goes off before he can get the phone to unlock and your name lights up the screen.

His face unlocks the phone and he catches a glimpse of an image. His heart rises into his throat when he clicks it open and finds a picture of the bathroom counter in the master bedroom. There are pregnancy tests covering every surface that he can see within the frame.

All different brands. Some have double lines, others say pregnant outright.

"Fuck," Kageyama breathes over his shoulder. "You're gonna be a dad."

Silence falls amongst them as Wakatoshi continues to stare at the picture.

And then Hinata bursts into gleeful laughter.

"Congratulations!"

It's a catalyst. Atsumu and Kageyama hug him on either side. Ushijima finds a small smile forming on his lips. He's going to be a father.

"I'm going to be a father," he says slowly.

"Hell fucking yeah!" Atsumu attempts, futilely, to pick him up and Ushijima's smile turns into a surprised laugh. Cheers ring up around the court.

The celebration is cut short by the shrill ringing of Iwaizumi's phone. He's stunned to see your name on his trainer's screen. Iwaizumi eyes him as he answers.

"No he's- he- wait a minute now- he's right here- I-" Iwaizumi seems to grow more frantic the longer he tries to calm you down.

Ushijima snatches the phone from him.

"Hello?"

You sob. A full, ugly, hiccupping, gross sob. You can't even speak to him, can't even express how you feel. The turmoil you've been in for the past fifteen minutes as you waited for his response and then got none.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, and he doesn't sound upset. You try to suck air into your lungs, to gather yourself together so you can have an actual conversation with him but God just hearing his voice soothes your nerves but also unravels them. "We're having a baby?"

You nod, and then catching yourself and suck in a huge breath. "Mhm," you manage to croak out. "Mhm, we are,” you whimper.

Ushijima is quiet for a moment. You can just make out a bit of whispering in the background and the sound of sneakers squeaking before he responds. "Are you upset? Do you-" he gulps "-do you not want to have-"

You shake your head frantically. "I thought you were mad! You left me on seen and then you didn't answer your phone and I know you had a plan and we're not marrie-"

Ushijima grunts. "I don't care about any of that. I care about you and I and what we have right now. And if that's a baby then I'm- I'm very happy, extremely happy to do whatever you want to do."

You begin to sob again, but for a different reason.

"Please don't cry, you're breaking my heart."

A startled laugh interrupts your hiccupping at his sudden admission.

"I'm too far away to comfort you and it's driving me crazy."

"I love you," you giggle wetly.

Ushijima's smile is tiny as he replies, completely ignoring the presence of a wide eyed Atsumu and smug Aran. "I love you too. I'll be home in a day or two."

[ IMPOSSIBLE ] BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

it’s quiet this morning—which is fairly odd with bakugou, considering he’s always cursing about one thing or another under his breath as he gets ready, but today it’s silent. 

and it’s only silent because you refuse to talk to him, and he’s not going to talk to a wall, so he plays along. but you can tell he’s an atom bomb ticking, ready to go off any moment—and it really doesn’t take long before he lets out one last frustrated huff and takes the spatula from your hand as you make breakfast, pushing the pan off the heat before turning you to face him. 

he notes that there are still two eggs on the pan instead of one (you’re angry, not rude.)

“hey, what gives—”

“i’ve had fuckin’ enough,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you, “quit bein’ mad.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling dryly as you nod, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll just stop being sad next time i’m sad too. or stop feeling tired next time i get tired.”

“y’know that’s not what i meant,” he groans, pinching his nose, “i meant ‘m sorry. so stop bein’ mad,” he tries again. it’s blunt and doesn’t really butter you up like you’d hope, but it’s him and it’s sincere. 

last night is your first fight since you’ve moved in together. as in, last night is the first time you and bakugou don’t sleep on the same bed. he’s stuck on the couch for cursing at you—he always curses, but never with that tone directed towards you—and you sleep on the bed alone. 

his back is aching, but that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is that he now realizes that when your body isn’t slotted next to his, he doesn’t know what to do with his arms (he settles for awkwardly crossing them over his chest), and when you don’t talk his ear off before bed, he doesn’t have the sound of your voice to lull him to sleep (he ends up tossing and turning on the couch for most of the night.)

and with this newfound information, bakugou katsuki decides he will never be sleeping on the couch again. ever. so his only solution is to fix things so you don’t send him there tonight too.

but you’re still upset, so you turn your head and huff. 

“well, you shouldn’t have been so mean to me then,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms at him. 

the first time you and bakugou fight, it’s at your apartment after a date. it’s the first time he raises his voice at you, the first time he’s not gentle behind the tough exterior you think is practically his second skin. and before he can make things worse, before he can ruin the first thing in his life that’s not just good or even great, but perfect, he storms out to clear his head. 

he comes by the next morning with your coffee order and some breakfast before he mumbles an apology at your front doorstep. it’s awkward and gruff and a little choppy, but his voice is soft and his eyes are dim. you sigh before offering to split your breakfast and he doesn’t step a foot inside your home until you give him a kiss. 

the second time you fight is in the car. you’re the one to storm out this time, slamming the door at a red light and walking off before he can even fully comprehend what’s happened. and because luck seems to never be on either of your sides, it’s raining. he finds you shivering on the park bench where you both have your first picnic, and he drapes his jacket over you as he lectures you like he’s your father about the dangers of walking off in the middle of the night while it’s raining. 

because he’s equal parts annoying when he lectures, and equal parts endearing when he’s worried, you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a messy kiss, rain on your lips and a clash of teeth from the initial shock, but he melts into it instantly. he understands that night why cliche rain kisses are so romantic as he holds you in the middle of an empty park.  

and he thinks no matter how many times you fight, no matter who’s mad at who, he’ll find a way to end every argument with a kiss if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“yeah, so ‘m sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, “didn’t mean it, okay? i love you.” you can’t help but notice that the last part isn’t stiff and awkward like everything else—he says i love you delicately, like it’s a fragile thing to say, like it’s a privilege he won’t take for granted. 

“well, i’m still mad,” you say stubbornly. 

“then quit bein’ mad,” he furrows his brows, “my back hurts on that damn shitty couch, okay? ’s gonna hurt my performance too. i’ll have to tell the families of the people i can’t save that you’re the reason why,” he warns, and he smirks a little at the way you have to chew your bottom lip to hide the giggle you almost let slip. 

“how bad does it hurt?”

“worst back pain i ever endured,” he says instantly. it’s a lie. he’s been slammed against buildings and concrete and practically given you enough heart attacks to leave you bedridden for the rest of your life—but he has to convince you somehow, even if it’s through dramatics. 

you sigh, and he almost thinks he’s won—almost.

“okay, you sleep on the bed, and i’ll sleep on the couch tonight—”

“you’re so fuckin’ gullible,” he cuts you off instantly, “as if a damn couch could do anything to me. i’ll sleep there until you’re done bein’ pissy,” he grumbles. 

you frown because you know him, and you know he’s just saying that. and just like that, the anger melts away and leaves behind the soft ache that only bakugou can placate. the kind of ache he placates by pretending the couch doesn’t hurt his back so it doesn’t have to hurt yours.

“katsuki—”

“i said i’ll sleep there,” he says firmly, “you’d get cold anyway. fuckin’ baby.”

“fine,” you spit, scrunching up your nose as you huff slightly, “you can sleep on the bed with me. but don’t touch.”

“i’ll stick to the couch then,” he says flatly, “the bed’s a full package deal. cuddles or nothing.”

“you are impossible,” you scoff, and he grins, chuckling lightly as his eyes stare at you amused. and he’s not perfect, a little rough around the edges with a mouth that runs before he thinks, but he loves hard and deep, enough to make you believe you’re worth sleeping on a stiff couch for with a thin blanket. enough to show up at your doorstep with your coffee and breakfast order memorized. enough to soak through the rain to hand you a jacket so you’re less cold.

“you’ll come runnin’ to me for cuddles sooner or later,” he snorts, “might as well make it sooner.”

“fine,” you cave, and because you missed him just like he missed you, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss his jaw, “i love you too. and you can join me in bed and have your stupid cuddles.”

“‘m doin’ it for you,” he has the audacity to shoot back.

“katsuki, you really are impossible,” you snort as you shake your head, and when he gives you a lopsided grin, you kiss him slow and deep and a little more in love than you were yesterday. 

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

oh my FUCK 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

So i gave this cinamonroll a middle part XD

okay this is so cute i actually shed a tear

— FLICKER | kuroo x fem!reader

-> synopsis: harbouring old flames

-> cw: SFW, exes to lovers, mild hurt/comfort

-> wc: 5k

-> a/n: repost of another personal favourite 🫠

The last moment you spent with Kuroo was unremarkable.

“Swap.”

“But I like this one.”

“You know the rules.” With a resigned sigh you hand him your can of lychee soda, gingerly taking his bottle of aloe vera juice. Eyeing the cloudy, slightly greenish liquid, you grimace before you reluctantly raise it to your lips. You take a sip and wrinkle your nose in disgust.

“I can’t believe you actually like this shit.”

“Don’t be dramatic, you’ve just got childish taste buds, baby. Besides, it’s good for you”

“I do not!” you scoff, hitting his shoulder lightly.

“Uh-huh, this is coming from the girl who drinks artificially flavoured sugar juice.”

“Give it back then if you don’t like it,” you huff, making a grab for it.

“No.” He holds the can out of reach of your outstretched hand, which is not much of a feat considering how long his arms are. “It’s mine now.”

“But you don’t even like it!” you whine.

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, taking a sip.

“Even if all your teeth fall out from the sugar, old man?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly - using his own words against him.

“I’ll get dentures,” he grins, throwing you a teasing wink. “I’m sure I can make the fake teeth work. Anything’s possible when you look like this.”

“Oh shut up will you.” You scowl at him, slumping back down on his bed beside him and sipping at the remainder of his drink in annoyance, pushing down the strong urge to spit it at him. It would be funny, and maybe start a gross little war between you, but you’re not really in the mood for that right now.

Silence falls between you again, an obnoxiously frequent visitor on this clear, starry night. Your head falls on Kuroo’s shoulder just as his arm finds your waist and tucks you closer into his side, fingers tracing shapes over your hip. A few months ago, he would be laughing nervously and trying his hardest to play it cool, all while a hot blush lit up his cheekbones and ears. There’s very few traces of that shy boy left. You miss him a little.

“Feels weird now that we’ve graduated,” you muse. “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist, y/n,” he scolds lightly. “We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us!”

“Here we go.”

You groan as he starts his rant about life and things that are too abstract and far away into the future to think about. Turning your head, you watch him excitedly talk about possibilities and plans and your heart weighs down in your chest.

This will be the last time.

“Tetsu,” you interrupt quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to forget me after I’ve left.” You can feel how Kuroo tenses all of a sudden, the lines of his body stilling as his grip on you tightens protectively. Defiantly.

“Woah. Why would I do that?” he asks slowly. You sigh heavily, sitting up so that you can look at him. He knows why. You’ve had this conversation before, several times in fact.

“To make it easier. For both of us. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve been thinking that it would be best.” you tell him gently, even though every cell in your body tells you not to.

“But I don’t want to forget you,” he says stubbornly. “And who exactly is this easier for? Don’t you even want to try making this work long distance? I think we can do it.”

“I don’t want to end up resenting you.” Kuroo’s brow pinches together. “What if I neglect you, or you neglect me? What then? What if we start hating each other?”

“You won’t! We’ll call and text everyday, it’ll be like you never left! That’s what technology is for, sweetheart.”

“But we’ll only manage to squeeze in a couple of hours each day at best because of the timezone difference and even then we might not manage that. You know it doesn’t make sense,” you point out. Your tone softens as you take his hand in yours, running your thumb soothingly over his knuckles. “You’re usually so logical, Tetsu, this isn’t like you.”

Kuroo sighs, tugging you in to rest against his chest. It’s so natural now, so effortless, how you fall into each other’s embrace. Like being there was written for you from the start.

“Not always. Love isn’t logical y’know,” he murmurs into your hair. “Love tells me that I should keep you here, safe in my arms, not let you go halfway across the world for university.”

“Tetsu, you know-“

“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. I’d never hold you back, no matter what. But you can’t ask me to be logical when every inch of me refuses to let you go. You can’t ask me to forget you because I would never be able to. How could I ever forget someone I love?”

You cling to him more tightly, cursing every divine power that has decided to wedge itself between you. Why the fuck has life led you in this direction? It’s cruel. Unfair.

“And despite what you say, I know you won’t forget me either. Doing this now, or before you leave, or not at all, is going to hurt us at some point.”

“Well, what do you suggest?”

You sit up to look at him again, meeting his melancholic eyes that mirror your own turmoil. Tenderly, he brushes your hair back, fingers lingering on your cheek.

“You might be right about the long distance thing not working so we’ll do it your way still, as much as I don’t want to. But only because you think it’s best. For tonight though, I want you to pretend with me. Let’s pretend that you’re not leaving me next week, and that we’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”

“Will that help?” you ask sadly. He smiles ruefully and shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing with the action.

“No. But I don’t wanna be sad just yet.”

And you do just that. You talk and laugh, share stories and snacks, holding onto each other all the while through kisses and giggles. It’s pure bliss. But it’s sullied by the ticking of the clock on his wall that you can’t help but repeatedly glance at.

And as the clock nears midnight and you know it’s time to leave, your heart begins to ache desperately.

His hands rest on your hips as you stand before his closed door. When your lips meet, it’s not like your usual goodbye kisses, which are sweet and chaste. This kiss quickly becomes a deep, needy, yearning thing that you can’t pull yourself out of. You drown in the sensation of his slightly chapped lips, get lost in the taste of his still-shy tongue, melt right into the contours of his body.

You don’t even realise the two of you are crying until you pull away. You’re breathless and sobbing a little, clinging to him so tightly you’re sure it hurts him, but it doesn’t matter.

Leaving hurts more.

“I don’t wanna go, Tetsu,” you whisper. “I wanna stay with you.” He kisses your tears away, resting his forehead against yours and squeezing your frame.

“I’m not dying or anything, why are you crying?” he teases wetly.

“You’re crying too, dumbass.”

“So what if I am?” he sniffles, pressing tender kisses to your forehead. “My pretty girl’s leaving me forever.”

“I don’t want to, Tetsu.”

“I know, but you’ll be okay, baby. We’ll be okay,” he says, shushing you gently, but neither of you believe it for a second.

And why would you?

You’re 18. Young and stupid. Freshly graduated with the world at your feet and the whole of adulthood stretching on before you, a winding path that you can’t fully see.

And yet, this is your world, right here in your arms.

All this time, he has been by your side, naturally, but he won’t be following you into the great unknown, as much as he wishes he could. He’s seeing you off on your journey now, parting ways with you as he embarks on his own, in a different direction, even though he wants you to stay with him. He watches you from the front door as you leave, blowing you a kiss and yelling his love after your retreating figure.

This is what it means to grow up.

This is goodbye.

And you both fucking hate it.

It takes a good while to nurse your broken hearts, made more difficult by the fact that you have to adjust to new environments and new people as you heal. But you grieve and you grow and the years pass by in the blink of an eye.

Seven years have passed since that tearful night. Seven years of study, study, study and then work, work, work. You moved back to Japan a year or so after graduating university, homesick from so many years away. You visited during that time of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as living out your daily life in the hustle and bustle of Tokyo.

And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you dreamed that you would bump into him. Wishful thinking perhaps, but you couldn’t quite tamp down all of your feelings towards the rooster-haired captain. There’s still a small flame flickering in the depths of your heart just for him and it’s this very flame that keeps you warm on some nights.

You wonder if that same flame burns in his own chest for you.

The convenience store is a welcome reprieve from the summer heat that bears down on you intensely. The sounds of passing cars is muffled as the doors slide shut behind you, leaving only the whir of the air conditioner and the gentle warble of a pop group playing quietly over the speakers.

You drift towards the back where the fridges are situated, absently inspecting bags of snacks as you pass and touching a box of pocky before changing your mind and continuing on. There’s a blast of cool air when you pull the fridge door open and hold it there with your hip as you scan the selection of beverages on display. There’s one in particular that catches your eye, conjuring a memory forth from the depths of your mind.

With a nostalgic smile, you reach in and grasp the can of lychee soda, only for your hand to bump into one much larger than yours.

“Ah, sorry about that,” says a smooth, deep voice. The sound sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature of the open fridge.

But it can’t be, can it?

Hopeful curiosity lifts your head to look for the owner of the voice, and you have to crane your neck a little just to look up at his face. Dark hair, still messy, but more tamed than it was in his youth - now it looks deliberate. Sharp jaw, elegant nose, and those eyes, warm hazel - almost amber, and strangely feline in shape. He doesn’t look the same but he doesn’t look different either. Just a taller (somehow) more handsome and mature version of his younger self. In a suit no less, only it’s paired with volleyball shoes.

You would probably laugh out loud if your mouth didn’t feel so dry, like you’ve just eaten a fistful of sand as you gape up at him with a mix of shock and wonder.

“I must be dreaming right now,” you whisper to yourself and the man sniggers, still inspecting the can in his hand.

Oh. That’s still the same.

“Are you talking to-“ he falters as his eyes flick to your face. “-me.”

His face mirrors your own and you’re not sure how long you stand there, fridge wide open, until someone mumbles ‘excuse me’ and shakes you from your respective trances. You wait for them to leave before you dare to look at each other again.

“Tetsu?” It feels a little foreign saying his name again after so long. And yet, the weight of it sits familiar on your tongue, the roll of each syllable feels natural as it passes your lips.

“Y/n?” You wonder if your name tastes the same to him, if it reminds him of home the way that his does for you. “Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You awkwardly raise a hand in greeting.

“Hi,” he says, sounding as dazed as you feel. “Almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different.”

“So do you. It’s been a while,” you offer lamely. He was never this hard to talk to, but you suppose that time is a thief that is impossible to catch, stealing the ease that you built your relationship on.

“Yeah. It has.”

“Seven years,” you murmur with a touch of melancholy.

“Where did the time go?”

You both fall silent, there in the snack aisle of a convenience store in Tokyo, in the middle of summer, wondering what you should say next. Wondering what is appropriate after so much time has passed.

Because you’ve both grown. A lot. Physically, mentally, emotionally. You’re hardly the same people you were seven years ago. It’s stupid of you to even entertain the idea that he could fall in love with you again, but you entertain it all the same.

You’d never admit it aloud, but on some of your loneliest nights, you’d fantasise about what could happen if you met again. How you’d fall back together so easily, how you’d be so in love, the way that you used to be. Maybe you’d move in together, get a pet together, maybe you’d get married and have a family. Maybe you’d grow old with the only boy you’d ever loved so earnestly, so boundlessly, despite being so young.

It’s Kuroo that finally breaks the silence.

“Let’s catch up,” he says, with a crooked grin. “For old times sake.”

You pay for your drinks and head back out into the sun. It’s odd, you think. Tokyo is familiar and Kuroo is familiar, as well as the drink in your hand but it still feels strange to you. You’re in a different part of the city because of your new job and the brand of soda you like has changed their recipe.

And then there’s Kuroo.

His gait is, regrettably, longer than it used to be, as is the height at which you stand next to him. He sounds different, dresses different, he even smells different. Back then, he used to smell like far too much body spray and his grandma's honeysuckle detergent. Now? The scent coming off him is expensive and thoroughly masculine - it’s honestly incredibly sexy.

You cast him a sideways glance, belatedly noticing the can that he sips at. It’s identical to yours and you can’t help but scoff aloud.

“I thought you said that stuff was full of sugar?” Kuroo turns to look at you curiously as you both slow to a stop and point at him accusingly. “Remember? You used to nag me for drinking it.” Your lips push out in a pout at the memory of his lecture, and he laughs.

The sound transports you back to high school, to a time where you’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, two peas in a pod, no longer clad in office wear but in your school uniforms. Kuroo’s hair is horrendous, tangled hopelessly by the wind that blows through it. You’re holding hands and bickering, but still laughing. Always laughing.

“That’s cos you used to drink it every day,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in that goddamn smirk. “And it’s addictive.”

“Ah-ha! That means you’re addicted to it now too! Ain’t karma a little bitch? Maybe you’ll think twice before lecturing someone about their choice in drink!” you proclaim triumphantly. He rolls his eyes, amused by your smug expression.

“And!” you add with a jab of your finger. “I haven’t had this stuff in years! It’s hard to find across the pond.” Kuroo hums, taking another sip.

“I’m not addicted to it,” he says, quirking his brow challengingly. “I still don’t like it.”

“Oh really? Then why did you get it?” You narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head, smile softening.

“It’s a secret,” he says, tapping his nose with a wink before he continues to walk. Your eyes narrow in a glare as you jog after him and attempt to fall back in step with him.

“Slow down would ya! Long legged bastard,” you grumble under your breath.

“What did you just call me?” he asks quietly. You freeze, clapping a hand over your mouth as realisation dawns on you. You can’t joke with him like that anymore.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cackles at the look on your face, doubling over right there in the middle of the street. You fix him with a deadpan look, arms folded over your chest, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m kidding, relax! God you should see your face, baby!”

This time, you both freeze, and the illusion shatters. A soft pink stains his cheeks as his ears and brain catch up to his tongue and heart. 25 and he’s still not immune to blushing. 25 and it still makes him look hopelessly sweet. 25 and it still makes your heart swell.

“I didn’t- shit, I’m so sorry! It just slipped out,” he yelps, panic widening his eyes. You’re not quite sure what to say to him. The pet name echoes in your ears and thunders in your chest, reawakening butterflies with Kuroo’s name scrawled across the delicate wings. Your own cheeks feel warm.

“Easy mistake to make,” you say shyly. “Don’t worry about it.” He clears his throat nervously and sips at his drink to give himself something to do, your own fingers fiddling with the carrier bag in your hand.

“I er, I know a pretty good ice cream place about 5 minutes away from here. We can catch up there?”

“Sounds good.”

Your walk resumes and you’re both quiet again, until the little bell above the door chimes and you’re standing at the counter, poring over the selection behind the glass.

Kuroo has brought you to a quaint little spot, tucked away between an electronics shop and a bakery. Inside, it’s cool and vibrant, the pastel palette running through the space brightening your mood a little. It doesn’t take either of you long to make your choices, taking your cones and finding a little booth in the back to sit at.

Perhaps it’s a little odd for two adults in their mid-twenties to be sat in an ice cream parlour, nibbling at cones and searching for something to say that sounds nonchalant. But Kuroo did say this was for the sake of old times, and what better way to plunge you into the past than a quiet booth and some ice cream.

“So,” you start, but you don’t know how to finish.

“So,” he copies, drawing the word out. You raise an eyebrow at him, licking at your ice cream and he mirrors you, holding the expression before you both snort and burst into laughter.

“Fucking hell, stop being weird!” you giggle.

“I’m not!”

“You’re making that face!”

“Speak for yourself! Look, I just didn’t expect to run into you of all people on my way home,” he says with a grin.

“Neither did I!” His eyes soften as he smiles, crinkling at the corners.

“So how have you been?”

And just like that, you feel right at home again. You talk and laugh, smile brighter and bigger than you have in years. The cones have long since been polished off and you’re still occupying the booth, any concept of time tossed out the window. It’s not long before your catch-up of the present bleeds into reminiscing on the past.

“And then Bokuto slipped and fell right into you!”

“I remember that, I would’ve fallen flat on my face if you hadn’t caught me. You never did let that go, I swear, you milked that shit for ages,” you complain, pouting in annoyance.

“You have to admit that line was pretty smooth!” He puffs his chest out a little with pride and you roll your eyes.

You mock his deep timbre. “‘Are you falling for me?’”

“It was cool!”

“It was cheesy!” you both laugh at the memory, letting the feeling of nostalgia linger over you like a warm blanket just a little while longer.

“We had some good times together,” he hums and you nod, smiling wistfully at the memories you’ve been submerging yourselves in.

“We did.”

“I miss the days when we were together. I really loved you,” he says quietly, warm eyes burning with sincerity.

“I did too.” You heart thuds heavily in your chest at the implications in his gaze but you force yourself to rein it in and squash the hope that flutters there. “But we were so young.”

“So?” He almost sounds offended. “Does that mean it didn’t count or something?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” You shake your head and sigh. “I’m just saying, I’m sure you’ve dated other people since then and fallen in love again. Real love, not the silly delusions of a teen.”

“Our love was real.”

Your breath hitches then at the fire in his eyes, a fire that you recognise, the same as the one that burns quietly in the depths of your heart. You try to shift his attention.

“Aren’t you dating anyone right now?” you ask hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“No,” he says fiercely, but then he cools a bit and leans back in his seat. “No. I’m not. I’ve tried, but… Nothing ever stuck. Did you ever have any luck?”

“I tried too,” you murmur. “But I couldn’t love them in the right way.”

Not the way I loved you.

The air between you becomes heavy with words unsaid crowding the tips of your tongues all at once, piling against your teeth and begging to break free. Kuroo calls your name, and your belly flutters in the way that it used to.

“Y/n,” he says and it’s so soft, so Kuroo, that your heart aches. You watch him carefully, waiting for him to keep speaking with bated breath. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

He sucks in a shaky breath and adds another secret to the pile housed deep in your heart, still kept firmly under lock and key.

“I drink them when I miss you.”

You pause, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Drink what?”

Kuroo’s expression turns exasperated as he runs a hand through his neater-than-it-used-to-be hair. The blush from before returns, tinging his ears red with embarrassment.

“The lychee soda.”

Oh.

Oh.

“So… today?”

He nods sheepishly, covering his face with his hand.

“How was I supposed to know I’d bump into you?” he mumbles again. You say nothing, marvelling at the man before you instead. Still as sweet as the day you met him. Years have passed, and so many things have changed. And yet somehow, Kuroo remembers you the way that you remember him.

No, not remember, he misses you the way that you miss him, still finding comfort in the warmth of that flame, just like you.

“Tetsu-”

“Weird right?” he chuckles humourlessly and you shake your head no.

“Not really,” you say, fiddling with the napkin in front of you. “You did say you wouldn’t forget me.”

“True,” he hums.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t forget you either.”

“You didn’t?” A warm flush creeps up your own cheeks this time as you nod and give in a little.

“I missed you, Tetsu. I know it’s been such a long time, and holding onto hope that I’d see you again is probably really fucking unhealthy but-“

“I couldn’t help it,” you say simultaneously.

Slowly, identical giddy grins spread over your faces and you find yourselves giggling like teenagers all over again.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Kuroo says suddenly with that lopsided grin that you fell in love with all those years ago.

“On a date?”

“If you want it to be. Seeing you again, it’s just-“ you halt him with a raised hand, a teasing grin playing at your lips as your head cocks to the side.

“Tell me about it on our date, yeah?”

And he does. The date with Kuroo is truly magical. He’s a picture perfect gentleman, coming to pick you up with a bouquet of roses in hand and a happy grin on his face. It seems that both of you have dressed to impress, Kuroo dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt and charcoal trousers whilst you spent hours scouring your wardrobe for the perfect dress. It’s honestly a little ridiculous when you think back on it since you knew each other so well already, so why would you need to impress each other?

But that was then, and this now.

There seems to be a goal in Kuroo’s mind as he helps you out of his shiny black Jaguar, leading you into quite a fancy looking restaurant. It’s clear he’s spared no expenses for the occasion. You eat and drink and laugh, allowing yourselves to get pulled back together again, like magnets. The flames in your hearts burn brighter, more fiercely with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth spread throughout your bodies, lapping gently through your veins.

As the night draws to a close and he drives you home, full, content and sleepy, you feel more whole than you’ve felt in the entirety of your adult life. You glance to the side, taking in his beautiful profile, that exquisite jawline and the curve of his lips that you want to feel again.

You wonder if they taste the same as they did back in high school. If they still taste like the gum he used to chew or those ghastly health drinks he was obsessed with. Sometimes, he’d chase you around right after eating mackerel, threatening to kiss you with the strong flavour of fish still lingering in his mouth. Are his lips still a little chapped and does he still grin into his kisses as his fingers rest on your cheek? Does he still make that sweet little humming noise in the back of his throat that sounds like laughter and does he still wear a goofy smile when he pulls away?

All thoughts of kissing him are shaken from your mind as he kills the engine and walks you all the way to the front door of your apartment. You unlock the door and turn to say goodbye, a little sad that the night has to end. Kuroo rests his arm against the door frame above his head, car keys dangling from his hand and a lazy smile sitting comfortably on his handsome features.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says.

“Me too.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Those words should be followed closely with a goodbye, but Kuroo lingers, as does his gaze, flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“Kiss me if I’m wrong,” he says after a beat of silence. “But you kissed me on our first ever date, didn’t you?” You hum thoughtfully, an impish grin rounding your cheeks.

“No I didn’t actually. It was the second and it was on the cheek cos you looked like you were gonna pass out when I got close to your lips.”

“I did not!” he whined indignantly.

“Did too,” you shrug.

“That’s bullshit,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I’m wrong so now you have to kiss me. Let me overwrite that first kiss.”

“How? We’ve kissed a million times before,” you argue.

“That was then, this is now. We’re restarting this whole thing.”

“We are?” You raise an eyebrow in question and he simply nods, cocksure and firm.

“We are.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Kuroo takes a step forward and suddenly there’s very little space between you. “So? Will you let me have a redo?” he murmurs.

“You can try. The first time was pretty sweet.”

With that, his hands slip around your waist and pull you flush against his firm body. When his lips slant down over yours, you still have to reach up to meet him, eyes fluttering shut as your lips meet after seven years apart.

He is all you remember and so much more, so much better than before, as if that were even possible. You learn that he tastes sweet like dessert, but he still tastes like your Tetsu. He grins against your lips as you press closer and you praise whoever the fuck convinced him to regularly use chapstick because his lips are so soft and pliant. His kisses are dizzyingly good, addictive and sensual, his fingers resting against the back of your neck whilst his palm sits in the curve of it. You sigh into his mouth, one of relief, because you’re finally home.

Where you belong.

As fate intended.

When Kuroo pulls away, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and he smiles so sweetly you think that sugar will never taste the same again. He brushes a stray lock of your hair back, letting his thumb linger over the warm apple of your cheek.

“Can I say something?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to warn you, it’s a little unconventional for a rebooted first date,” he chuckles.

Then, his expression becomes a little more serious. “But I really, really fucking love you and I don’t think I ever stopped.” Your heart swells and spills over as his grip on your waist tightens.

“I love you too,” you say, and you really can’t resist so you tug him back towards your lips and kiss him again.

“So.”

Again

“So.”

And again.

“So much.”

Fate nods and lets you love him all over again.

a new art from the queen herself <3 happy birthday to me