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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 4 days

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MINE.

❀ MSBY sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

ㅡsakusa kiyoomi loves in private but that doesn't mean he's afraid to show you off.

not proofread. forgive me if there are mistakes will fix them soon. also, it's my first time to write for him agh!

you arrived a bit... early.

apparently from your standpoint which is the entrance of the arena, your claim is simply an understatement. you are the first person to arrive. as a matter of fact you're the first person in line for ticket check.

"are you...(y/n)?" the staff controlling the line to the entrance has taken interest in your identity rather than your ticket in his hand.

"yes. why?" you ask, uncertain of how he knows your name.

"hm, i need you step aside for a moment." he shoots you a small smile before turning his head to where other staff are gathered. he shouts. "someone call Sato, he needs to assist a lady right here!" the group of staff nodded before briskly walking away.

you observe the ticket master takes, rips, stamps a logo on a person's inner wrists, and gives their tickets back precisely like he has done this for years. he didn't question any of them, heck he didn't even spare more than a second looking at their faces unlike what he did to you which brings you in wonder.

"am i in trouble?" you ask.

"no." he side glances you for a moment before returning his focus back to his job.

"then why am i being on hold?" you didn't want to irk him by asking too many questions but he's isn't supplying you with answers that will keep you at ease.

he halts mid-air, holding a stamp in hand as he looks at you with a confused face like you uttered a statement that was too far-fetched.

"he didn't tell you?" he cocks a brow before pressing the stamp on the skin of the person waiting in line. his eyes still on you.

"who's 'he'?" the more you question the deeper the crease between his eyebrow becomes.

are you supposed to know everyone in this arena? sure, you have watched games here a couple of times but that doesn't mean you know everything that goes on in their system. he could at least let you on with a bit of information.

the ticketing master shifts his vision to the person approaching behind you. he hums.

"hm, worry not. sato's here. he will assist you inside." you don't even know who sato is but you nodded like you understood what he met. he speaks to the boy catching his breath. "she's (y/n)."

"yes! i know her face. he made sure i remember her." the man wearing a laced id with his last name, Sato, printed on it chuckles. at the corner of his laminated identification card is a job title.

"VIP staff" you read with your eyes.

"I'll lead you to your seat." Sato gestures you follow him inside.

without saying a word, even though you're dubious of what is going on, you trail behind him. he walks down a fleet of stairs, looking through his shoulder from time to time to check you.

he stops right before the barricade separating the blue and red chairs. the blue chairs dominate the arena. it's tiered starting from the barricade to the exit doors while the red chairs are numbered. it is in equal footing with the floor of the court, placed right next to the team's corner.

"you can choose whatever seat you want but i suggest you go for the one over there. that's the nearest seat to MSBY and the view there is amazing." sato directs you with full smile.

"there must be a mistake. i have a regular ticket." you decided to speak up, showing him your stub but he waves it off.

"everyone gets a regular ticket whether you buy it online or over the counter. the red chairs or the vips are per request." as sato explains the more confused you get.

"i didn't request a vip seat." you reply.

"yes, you didn't but MSBY Sakusa did." As he mentions your boyfriend's name your lids peel off and gradually everything make sense.

"i didn't know." you said in a hushed tone.

"oh! it must be a surprise!" sato claps his hands enthusiastically but you, on the other hand, is horrified of the situation.

your eyes scan the vip section only to recognize a couple of faces. celebrities, influencers, bloggers, daughters from prominent families, and so on. and you look at yourselfㅡplain white shirt tucked in a high waisted jeans. slung over your shoulder is a signature bag that took Sakusa ages for you to accept. a bag priced thrice as a regular one is a no-no for you but your boyfriend argued that it's reasonable because it's your first birthday with him (although, you have spent countless birthdays with him it was as a friend and not as a lover. he thought dating you will give him the right to spoil you with gifts). you are not prepared for this situation. you wish you pulled your best top out of your closet or caked your face with make up.

"make yourself comfortable, i'll be at entrance C if you need anything." Sato says as he walks back up.

"wait, Sato." you stop him and he turns. "is it okay if i move seats and by that i mean up there, in those blue ones?" sato pauses for a moment before he replies.

"course! you can take whatever seat you want." he offers you a gentle smile before walking out.

knowing that famous individuals that will sit next to you gives you anxiety. you don't want to be put alongside with people whom you constantly feel like you have to adjust yourself just so you could appear admirable in their eyes. you wish to spare yourself of headache. albeit, all you want to do is to enjoy you boyfriend's game and cheer for him.

with much thought, you make your way up to the blue seats. you settle in the last seat in a row and immediately pulls your phone out of your pocket. you snap a picture of the court from where you are and sends it to your boyfriend. you type in "here." before clicking send.

a few seconds to a minute, a check appears next to your message. a note that tells you he has seen it. you didn't bother waiting for his reply as you already that at this point he and his team are preparing for the match. so, you zip your phone in your bag and relax your back on the seat.

a chattering noise accompanied by steps coming from the stairs is heard as two girls wearing a Bokuto and Sakusa jersey appears. they sit next to you, giddy about the upcoming match. the other girl which is sitting farther from you notices you.

"who are you cheering for?" she asks, cheeks turning red the moment you met eyes with her. she's probably hesitant to start a conversation with a stranger but since you're stuck with them (because you're sitting in the last seat of the row) she ought to make friends with you.

"MSBY." you simply state.

"who in MSBY?" she asks.

"Sakusa Kiyoomi." the other girl turns and instantly her face lights up at the mention of her idolㅡobviously, as she's wearing his jersey.

"Oh my god! you like him too?!" she gasps, leaning to your side.

"like" is a funny word. you don't just like him, you are in love with him. you have loved him for years even before he became a professional volleyball player. you were his friend and ally, mostly when you join forces into jesting or pushing other people's buttons. your admiration for him goes beyond Sakusa as a volleyball player. you like him as the person you share breakfast with or the grumpy old man he turns to when the room gets too messy to his liking. you like him when he's unable to decipher how to bake a chocolate cake or how to callout a neighboor that's too loud. you like him in many ways others couldn't.

nonetheless, you nod to the girl and as she squeals her friend taps on her shoulder as she points to the court. "they're here!"

both you and your boyfriend's fan turn your eyes to where she is pointing. there you see his team walking from the dugout. you spot him behind the three: hinata, bokuto, and miya. contrary to the three men who never run out of energy, he walks behind them calmly almost like he's bored. as soon as he steps in the court his eyes scan the audience.

he's looking for you.

he squints to search for your face and when his piercing eyes sees you, you swear to the sky and below that you felt your whole body shiver in fear. he tilts his head to the side as he narrows his eyes at you then he jogs his way to the team's coach. they exchanged a few words and after a nod from his coach, he's on his way to you.

your throat runs dry when his long legs skip the barricade separating the court and the red seats and the red seats to the blue seats. the two girls next to you jumps in their seats in excitement as they watch Sakusa climb the stairs towards their direction.

you turn your head to the side, away from the stairs and to the two girls with owl-like eyes anticipating the volleyball player. you cover your pathetic face with one hand and after a while you feel a daunting presence next to you. he didn't do anything, he just stands and looks at you through his bottom lashes.

"hey, hey, MSBY Sakusa is here! i thought you like him? come on this is a one time opportunity!" the girl next to you wearing your boyfriend's jersey scream-shouts. thanks to her support now you're melting in embarrassment.

Sakusa clears his throat and it's about time for you tear your hand away from your face. you shoot him a sheepish smile as his brows meet at the center of his forehead.

"why are you sitting here?" your voice hitches as his cold tone reaches you.

"i, uh... heh." you purse your lips into a tight smile.

"did sato not assist you? i made sure he remembers your name and face. i reserved a seat for you at the vip section." he arches a brow. at this point, the two girls next to you are watching the events unfold with their mouths hanging. they didn't expect this at all, and it's clear with how they look.

"listen, omi. i don't want to sit there." your mention of his first name, no, his nickname had the girl sitting next to you gasp loudly in shock. her friend cupped her hand over her mouth to stop her.

"and why?" sakusa challenges as he bends his back down to match with your height. he anchors his hand on the backrest of the seat in front of you and the other on your seat. you are completely caged, trapped between his spreadout arms.

"i don't want to sit next to celebrities looking like this! we both have many things in common but we surely share the same level of hostility towards people, especially famous entitled ones. you know this."

the amphitheater is beggining to swarm with people. you and sakusa have gained a number of head turns and even some of them took a quick photo of him. the least you want right now is attention but your conversation with your boyfriend isn't ending any time soon.

"i don't even know who those celebrities are." He pauses, then adds. "i want to see your face up close when i play, baby." he never calls you with that pet name, ever. not in public places, not in front of friends, but always when he needs something from you.

"baby, can you cook me dinner?"

"you look so good. do you have spare time, baby?

"oh, come on, baby, cuddle with me won't you?"

it's totally fine when it's just the two of you in a room but when he says it with ears nearby you can't help but succumb to his request just to end the embarrassment. when he sees you slowly sinking into your seat, he already knows.

he has won.

sakusa offers a hand to guide you to the vip section but you look at him, head slowly shaking to the sides.

"you don't have to do that."

"i insist." a cheeky grin plays on his lips as he continues. "quick, you don't want everyone's eyes on us, don't you?"

hence, with a long sigh and a quick grab on his hand you flees you out of your seat like a knight saving his princess. you give the two kind girls a swift nod as a way of saying goodbye and in return they stick their thumb out, eyes still wide as a deer in headlights.

as you tail behind sakusa with your hands intertwined, you pull him back gently so he can stop and wait for you.

"you're doing this on purpose. you're enjoying my flustered face. i know you, omi." you say through your teeth and for the nth time today he catches you off guard by leaning in to the side of your face. he turns his head towards you just enough for you to feel his lips brushing against your ears.

"let me show you off." he whispers.

"i thought you said you hate attention." you reply, swallowing in air as you feel a growing grin against the shell of your ears.

"i do but i'm letting them know you're mine."

title's not the best lol but thanks for reading! hope ya like it ;)

masterlist | hq.list

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 4 days

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How about sweet Tadashi Yamaguchi? He's current concern is that all cute girls that come over to talk always just want to talk about Tsukki... How about some girl finally changes it?

OMG OMGOMG I LOVE HIS CURRENT CONCERN ITS SO CUTE.

this isnt exactly hcs.. i jus thought this would be such a cute mini fic

wait… YOU MEAN ME?

ft. yamaguchi tadashi w.c: 689 warnings: literally none just fluff also female reader

Yamaguchi Tadashi, many words can be used to describe him; shy, unconfident, and the boy who's always with Tsukishima. It's because of this unconfident nature that caused him to always think that every girl to come up to him does not want to talk to him, but rather Tsukishima. His theory was proved right after girls only wondered where to find Tsukishima. Perhaps he wished it was the other way around; that girls would talk to him instead of Tsuki, maybe even girls talking about himself to Tsuki.

"Um, excuse me!" a voice calls out to Yamaguchi as he stops in his tracks down the hallway. The voice was one of a girl. Taking that into consideration, he used his usual reply;

"Tsukishima is in the library," he stated as he turned around to greet the voice that called out to him.

His eyes meet one of a very pretty girl as he feels his face getting flustered. Yup, this girl is definitely looking for Tsuki he thinks as he continues to look at her.

"huh? Why would I be looking for Tsukishima?" The girl tilts her head in confusion as she looks at him with a questioning look.

"O-Oh I'm sorry! Is there anything you need?" He replies with a stutter as his. "...Or did you even need anything?" he adds to his previous question out of clear nervousness.

The girl just simply smiled at him, she played with the hem of her skirt with her left hand; her nervousness clear as day.

“Well, I suppose you could say I needed something from you.” she then averts her eyes, from his, as a rose-tinted blush appeared amongst her cheeks. “ I would like to get to know you better.”

Yamaguchi is taken aback by her statement. What girl would want to get to know more about him? Isn’t Tsukishima the interesting one between the two of them? He knew his whole thought process surrounding girls stemmed from his self-confidence issues. Even on the volleyball team. He is the only one of the 1st years who isn’t a starting member. How can someone like him be appealing to a girl?

“Hey! Are you okay..?” The girl says now placing a hand on his cheek to feel his temperature. “Oh no! You’re burning up.” she lets out as her face softens into a worry.

How long had he spaced out? Did he completely short-circuit? Did he say someone he wasn’t supposed to say?

“I-I’m fine!” he manages to get out after his mini panic. Just then the girl takes her hand off of his cheek and sighs in relief.

“I’m glad that you’re okay! You had me worried for a bit!” she tells him, expressing her worry in her tone of voice. “Oh! I should tell you my name! I’m (l/n) (y/n).” she with her cheeks still rose-tinted, extended her hand out to him as a gesture of a handshake.

Yamaguchi looks at her hand and then softly smiles and accepts her handshake, relaxing his tense posture for once. “Nice to meet you (l/n), I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

As the handshake ends, it leaves the two of them steering at eachother for a time. Both seem lost in eachothers eyes. It’s almost as (y/n) can count the freckles on his face, and for yamaguchi, it’s almost like the attention of a girl is foreign to him.

“(y/n)! Are you coming?” Another girl’s voice called out to (y/n) breaking the silence between the two of them causing (y/n) to jump.

“O-Oh! Uh! I’m coming!” She replies as she bows to Yamaguchi as a sign of respect. “I-I have to go now. I’ll see you around!” with that, she's off in a flash.

Yamaguchi wonders if that just happened. He’s not dreaming, is he? Did he truly just talk to a girl who wasn’t looking for Tsuki, rather she wanted to get to know him? He smiles over this mini-victory as he finally gets a cute girl to talk to him. Maybe this was the boost to his self-confidence that was greatly needed.

©miyamizuna 2024

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 4 days

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I genuinely have a strong hatred for people who romance Shane then divorce him due to his room. Hi, welcome to my Ted Talk.

It's also not just his room, but also people who say "I thought he got help!" or "It's clashing with my style!" or "I thought I could fix him!" and what not. Like yes, I know this is a video game character, but honestly peoples' reactions to Shane speaks about them as a person.

We don't get him help, he gets it himself. Harvey suggests it, and Shane decides he is. We just help him along the way. We don't "fix him", he fixes himself and we are there to be by his side. And even though he does go see a counselor, that isn't going to fix everything. Honestly those type of people don't know how addictions work make mad. I can't say I know 100%, but I do understand you aren't going to get fixed right away.

I saw this tiktok of someone assuming they were being cheated on by Shane, without seeing the full cut scene. It just shows the absolute mistrust people have in him. And yes, I know he's fictional, but still it speaks about people's true colors.

Stepping away from the alcoholic part, let's talk about the depression part. IT. IS. NOT. EASY. TO. BECOME. UNDEPRESSED! Shane literally tried/wants to kill himself, he isn't going to get out of that mental state easily! I myself struggle with some mild depression. And it isn't easy to just "be happy." OF COURSE his room isn't going to be absolutely 100% perfect! Depression is a serious thing, especially for Shane.

Don't get me started on people with the "His room doesn't match my vibe" mentality. Everyone has an unique room that fits to them. Everyone is complicated (maybe, I don't know much about some of the candidates). Shane is a very complicated person, and his room speaks to that. Sorry that his depression and struggles don't match your cutesy cabin in the woods aesthetic. (That's somewhat sarcastic).

One of my biggest problems is this: You went through ALL his heart events. You know what he's struggled with, and still is struggling with. You stayed with him till marriage. And you divorce him for his ROOM?! I may be overreacting, but people with these mentalites make me mad. If this is how they react to a fictional character with alcoholism and depression,how are they gonna react to someone they might like irl that has these problems?

Anyways I'm a Shane defender for life, fight me.

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 7 days

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For the plotbunny thing I would LOVE to see more of Aone<3 I reread “lap cat” whenever I’m sad haha, you’re such a good writer

Aww, thank you! That means a lot.

I have to say I am a bit dried up when it comes to Aone content. I love him, don't be mistaken, but I haven't had an idea for him in a while other than this:

A Good Man

The shoes are tiny in his large hands. He holds them up for you to see and you have to bite down on your lip, hard, to keep from groaning. It's ridiculous.

"Are they for the cat?" He asks, a little dumbfounded.

You snort.

"No, silly. They're for the baby."

"What baby?" He furrows his brows as he thinks. "Moniwa's son has bigger feet, I think."

You're hand is now pressed against your mouth and you're glad you put the phone up to film instead of holding it in your hands. You'd be shaking too much.

"Baby," you grab his hands, "Takanobu, it's for our baby. We're going to have a Baby."

He blinks. You can almost see how his mind is processing things. Eventually, something clicks. Exhilarating joy moves over his face and it's like watching the sun rise. He pulls you in, wordlessly, almost crushing you until he realizes, hand pushing into the almost non-existent space between you, pressing warmly against your belly.

"How long?"

"Do you think I'll be a good dad?" He asks one night, large body curled around you. His hand's resting on your growing belly like it always does when you're near. You're not sure if it's conscious or not, but you know that's how he is, the protector, the wall between you and everything bad. Now he's got two things to protect.

"Absolutely."

"How so?" He sounds unsure and you kiss his temple, card your hands through his hair.

"Because you have all the traits I loved in my father. You're honest, hard-working, you care for the ones you love, you don't have to speak to say a lot. And most importantly, you love me."

"I do," he puts a lot of emphasis on his words, "I love you."

"Just think about it," you say, feeling how his hand flexes just slightly above your skin, "How proud she's going to be. How much she's going to love riding on your shoulders, watching you play Volleyball, telling her classmates that her father builds buildings during the day."

"Everything's going to be okay," he whispers into your hair as you whimper in pain. "I'm here, okay? Press my hand. I'm not going anywhere."

It takes forever, but his hand stays in yours. He's the wall of your life, the only protection you could ever need against the cold outside.

When your daughter is born, screaming her little lungs out, she looks nothing like either of you, just a wrinkled, red-faced, furious mess. But they put her into his arms, tiny hands flailing about until she settles and falls quiet. They say babies can't fully see until they're three months old but you're sure she recognized him instantly, felt the care pouring out of him just like you did all those years ago.

"Cho," he declares, looks at you for confirmation. "Her name's Cho."

"Butterfly?" You ask. "Why?"

"She's going to fly."

"Faster, Daddy, faster!" Cho screams at the top of her lungs, arms raised above her father's head as he clears the grassy field, his friends on his heels.

Moniwa's wife is laughing next to you as she watches, her husband another man in the group carrying his child on his shoulders.

Your son is curled into your arms, drinking eagerly, not caring at all for the commotion.

You'd known he'd be a good father, a good husband, a good man. You'd known all along.

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 7 days

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Friend of a friend

word count; 2535 – gn!reader, very suggestive at the end, manga spoilers

Back in high school, you went to Inarizaki and chose to be a manager for the volleyball club in your second and third years. It was incredibly fun and you might have cried when they won nationals in their last spring tournament before your class graduated.

Even after graduating and going your different ways, you stayed friends with Suna and the twins, as well as some of the other players. Unfortunately, you spoke much less frequently with the others.

Being friends with those three means gossip sessions, which is why you were lying on your bed with your computer open on a video call with the guys, updating each other on the latest gossip.

“How’s the new team, Rin?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu squint with a cocky smirk as he probably immediately started comparing it to his team. Suna shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s cool. That Komori guy is nice, I never really talked to him in high school,” he said, mentioning him because Atsumu had told you guys all about the players in the All-Japan group back in your second year. And of course, everyone knew about the best high school libero of the monster generation. You let out the tiniest gasp, covering your mouth when the twins started cackling while Suna looked confused. “What?”

“We never told you?” Osamu asked Suna in particular while you were making wild gestures for him to shut up. “Y/n has had the biggest crush on Komori since our second year at Inarizaki.”

Oh, the horror. Suna’s face lit up in a way it rarely did, suddenly armed with precious information to be used against you. “Are you serious?”

“It was a high school crush, get over it!” you yelled as if the blush on your cheeks was not giving you away.

“You were practically drooling.” Atsumu accused you and if you could punch him through the screen, you would.

“Miya, I swear to god-” but Atsumu knew you couldn’t reach him, so he smirked and kept that big mouth talking.

“When we were at nationals that year, the two of us went off to go watch Itachiyama.” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Because Tsumu wanted to stare at Sakusa,” you mumbled, already giving up on making him withhold any information.

“I was scoping out the competition! Anyways, one look at Komori was all it took before I was punched way too hard in my shoulder and forced to give up any information I had,” he explained, making it as dramatic as he could for Atsumu-purposes and clutching his upper arm as if he could still feel it.

“Reeeally?” Suna cooed. “From what I can tell, he’s single.”

Osamu had his mic off as he was in the kitchen making food, leaving you to the two worst ones. “This is why ‘Samu is my favourite,” you mumbled. He gave the camera a thumbs up and a wink, still leaving you to your own defences.

“Is he the one getting you a date with your lifelong crush?” Suna asked rhetorically, phone whipped out in the corner of his screen making your face go pale.

“No, but neither are you!” you yelled, hoping it was somewhat threatening, but it sounded more desperate. “And who said lifelong? I hate you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” he finally said, but the way he was side-eyeing the screen while Atsumu smirked told you this was not over yet.

Fortunately, weeks went by without you hearing anything else about any supposed date. Komori did come up in conversation now and then, which you appreciated when it wasn’t just so they could tease you. You could feel the crush blossoming again every time Suna told you about their adventures in volleyball and it felt somewhat nostalgic.

Should you give in and ask Suna for his number?

This is what you were wondering as you walked through the city, barely dodging bikes that tried to run over you while you daydreamed. The better option is probably giving in, but you preferred admiring him from far (far) away rather than facing the possible rejection. You pushed the door to the cafe where you’re meeting Suna, before huffing as you realised it said pull. Good start to the day for sure. When you finally got inside, you were muttering under your breath as your friend’s laughter rang in your ears.

“Shut up!” you barked at him before sitting down. He already ordered two hot chocolates when you said you were on your way.

“What’s got you so scatterbrained?” he asked, leaning his arms on the table.

You glared at him over your hands, which you were leaning on. “How to secretly perform a lobotomy on my enemy while he’s sleeping,” you answered, but your ears still burned red knowing what was actually on your mind.

“So you weren’t thinking about a certain teammate of mine?” Suna asked, wiggling his eyebrows. However, he looked genuinely surprised when you just leaned back down on your hands, not denying it. “Wait, you were?”

“Why am I friends with you?” you whine, finally sitting up to sip your hot chocolate in hopes that it would fix all your problems.

Suna smirked, hearing the bell ring over the door of the cafe. “I can think of a few reasons,” he said quickly before lifting his hand in greeting, making you whip your head in the direction of the entrance. To your horror, there stood none other than Komori Motoya. “Motoya!”

The libero smiled kindly, making your heart skip a beat as he walked over to you two. “Sunarin! What’s up?” he asked.

“Just catching up with this lovely person,” he said, throwing you a devilish grin. Komori turned to you, bowing lightly to greet you as well.

“Right, Suna told me about you. Komori Motoya.”

“Hi,” you said, feeling shy as you told him your name as well. As if you didn’t already know his name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think too much about how you said finally. “And you.” With that, Komori smiled and excused himself to order his coffee. This gave you some time to soundlessly curse at Suna, until you had to plaster a smile back on your face when he came back over, sitting down for a moment while waiting for his name to be called. “You were friends from high school, right?”

“Yes.” You glanced at Suna for help, words stuck in your throat. “I was a manager for the volleyball team.”

Komori made a sound of realisation like he finally put two and two together. “I thought I knew your face from somewhere!” he said, memories flooding back of the game in their last year of high school where they faced off against Inarizaki. “The pretty manager who got scolded by the referee for being too loud.”

You laughed at the memory, looking at Suna to see if he remembered as well and somehow managing to overlook that he called you pretty. “That’s the one,” Suna said, confirming that he did.

“You beat us in the semifinal,” Komori added. “Rin said you saw another one of our games at nationals once.”

“Not just once,” you chuckled before realising what you said and shutting up immediately. Both of the boys chuckled as well, one to ease your embarrassment and one to embarrass you more.

“Komori!” the barista yelled, relieving you at the perfect time. The man stood up and got his drink before coming back over but not sitting down. “I’ve got to go, but let’s meet again sometime, yeah?” he asked, directing the last half at you more than his teammate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, putting as much effort as you could into giving him your best smile. He bowed quickly before turning on his heel and leaving with a final goodbye.

Your eyes went straight to your friend, squinting. The second the cafe door closed, he burst out laughing, trying to not be loud and disturb others. “Not just once!” he mocked, making you bury your face in your hands. “You’re so hopeless at this.”

Let’s just say Suna told the twins how that went over your next video call, so now you’re watching them laugh at you as well, begging any existing god for it to stop and to just bury you already. After a few minutes, the laughing and teasing cooled off. “Well, now it’s my turn to step in,” Atsumu announced, and once again they got to watch the colour drain from your face.

“Step in? There will be no stepping in.” you stuttered.

“This Friday, I’m hosting a private party,” he said like a rich man from some movie. “And let’s just say you’ll enjoy the guest list, y/n.”

You bury your face into your mattress, pressing a pillow over your head. “Please, anyone. End my misery!”

But who are you to deny a good party? It’s just for fun, nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting at all- the thought drifted off into nothing as you watched Sakusa and Komori walk through the door. You chuckled to yourself at how Sakusa seemed to already turn around and try to escape when he saw there were more people there. From the corner of the room, where you previously chatted with Atsumu before he had to answer the door, you watched them. While calmly sipping your drink and leaning against the wall, you observed how sweet Komori acted, turning Sakusa back around and urging him to stay.

However, you should never let your guard down when you’re friends with a Miya. Next thing you knew, all the previously mentioned guys were looking where Atsumu pointed; right at you. In a fight or flight moment, your eyes widened and you escaped into the crowd before Komori could even see you properly. What a classy reaction!

The party went on and you danced with a couple of people you knew from here and there. It was a decent party, you had to admit Miya was good at hosting. Lucky you also crossed paths with a smirking Suna at the edge of the living room turned dance floor. “You truly are the image of grace,” he teased, and you glared in betrayal.

“Thank you,” you answered instead of arguing, moving along with the beat. Suna still seemed smug, and you felt a sense of deja vu when he lifted his hand and yelled ‘Motoya!’ over the loud music. “Have I told you that you’re the worst?” you asked in your sweetest voice before using some liquid courage to turn around to your undeniable crush with a drawn-out ‘heeey’.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you,” he responded, a hand caressing your upper arm because some people were pushing. “Where did Suna go?” he asked, glancing up once or twice before settling his gaze on you.

“I asked him to call on you, actually,” you lied, choosing fight instead of flight for once. After all, you had downed a cup or two of mixed alcohol since earlier.

“Really?” Komori smiled and you naturally copied it, albeit a bit more dazed. “Why?” he started moving with you to the music, his hand stroking down your arm and finding its place on your waist.

You didn’t answer him with anything more than a flirty smile and sheepish shrug, stepping closer to him and getting lost in the music while you dared to. If Suna was so insistent on him perceiving you, you didn’t want to seem like some loser with a childish crush.

Eventually, the song changed and you looked down into your now empty cup with a small pout. You left it on the closest surface and turned to Komori. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” you asked, pointing towards the stairs. When he agreed, you loosely grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, looking around for a moment before realising the only good options were the bedroom or the balcony. “Bedroom or balcony?” you asked without thinking much about what it might seem like.

Did he look nervous? Komori was fiddling with his empty plastic cup and didn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bedroom. “Don’t you think it would be occupied?”

You shrugged and walked over to the door, pulling on the handle and swinging the door open only to find an empty albeit a bit messy room. Turning back to him, you knew your cheeks were burning. It’s just from the alcohol… “Coast is clear.” Komori followed you inside before closing the door behind you, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to lock it. What if that scared you off? What if he misunderstood? The two of you ended up facing each other in the middle of the floor, both thinking too much to make the first move. You weren’t sure if you pulled him upstairs for anything specific, you honestly just wanted to talk to him more now that you had the chance. And guts.

Komori accidentally dropped the empty cup he had been fiddling with and winced, seemingly spurring into action from that little movement alone. “You’re gorgeous.”

You looked at him wide eyed before the words just fell out of your mouth. “I have a huge crush on you.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips and it brushed over your face because he was so close, yet he was seemingly moving even closer by the second. “Sunarin told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, cursing your best friend in your mind until you feel Komori’s hands land on your hips more confidently. “I hate him,” you informed him in a whisper. The little space between you felt like it wouldn’t fit anything louder.

“I don’t,” he answered with a small grin before he kissed you, making your arms automatically loop around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back with the lust of every wandering thought you had of him the last few years, and he kissed you back with the passion of someone who wasn’t used to being the crush with a cousin like Kiyoomi. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you lay back and pulled him with you, feeling one of his hands slide under your shirt, which you had no intention of stopping.

Suna wasn’t sure if he was happy or not with the sounds coming from Atsumu’s bedroom when he went looking for you. He was glad his plan worked out but he did not need the mental image that came with you moaning his teammate’s name. Is it possible to rinse your brain? Also, Atsumu would act so mad about you doing whatever in his bed before you ‘snuck’ out of the party hand in hand with Komori.

And Osamu would hear all about it in the morning when you came to get food wearing an EJP Raijin sweatshirt. He’d tell you having you there on your derailed walk of shame was bad for business, but still let you sit there and babble about how great Komori was, both in bed and after.

At least you were happy, and that made them happy too.

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 11 days

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The World’s most (un)serious Game of Chicken - Hanamaki x Reader

Hanamaki has never been serious a day in his life. Lots of crack and luff and Seijoh Golden Four.

Warning: Over 6k words. My hand slipped.

Kindergarten - 5 years old

Yasuda, known for her large forehead and rich parents, points her finger at her newest enemy.

“Hanamaki is ugly,” she declares. “No one can touch him or they are ugly too!”

You’re pretty sure she’s just envious of the fact that his mother gave him a Squishmallow to bring along, and it’s a rare one too.

The other kids draw away. Hanamaki’s looking a little confused, but he’s not crying. You’re pretty sure you’d cry.

Yasuda grins. It’s an ugly thing, that grin, and it makes you want to punch her in the face. But then you’d get sent in time-out again.

Besides, your mother told you to “kill them with kindness” this morning, whatever that means.

Before you can rethink your strategy, you take a step forward.

Yasuda’s eyes widen at your challenge.

But it’s too late. You’re throwing yourself at Hanamaki who’s luckily catching you. He smells like bubblegum.

“Now I’m ugly too!” You declare before turning around with fire in your veins, your determined eyes catching Yasuda’s. You can see the fear in them.

“Run!”

“Hey,” Hanamaki waits outside, Squishmallow in his hands.

“Hey,” you say, wiping the snot from your nose and into your skirt. You hate that you cry all the time, especially in front of the teacher who just scolded you. It’s not your fault Yasuda tripped when you ran after her.

“Thank you,” he says, voice earnest, “For that. You know.”

You sniff and shrug at the same time. “It’s nothing. I don’t like Yasuda. She’s nasty.”

He grins wide, revealing a missing tooth.

“Me too.” He offers the Squishmallow to you. “Friends?”

“You can’t buy me,” you tell him, the sentence grown-up and unfamiliar in your mouth. You heard it last week on Mom’s TV show. But you take the Squishmallow anyway. “Thanks.”

“Takahiro,” a breathless voice calls out. You both turn to his mother rushing down the street. She stops, catches her breath, and smiles down at you.

“Aww, did you give her your Squishmallow? Is she your friend?”

The two of you share a look. Kindergarten is hell already, you can’t have rumors like that going around.

“Nah!” You declare loudly, “Boys are nasty. This is blackmail.”

And before she can say anything, you rush back inside, determined to hide until they’re both gone.

Elementary school - 6 years old

The boy is tall, with dark curls hiding his tired-looking eyes.

“Yes?” You ask, annoyed that he’s blocking the sunlight streaming in.

“This is Hanamaki’s place.”

“So?” You push the lollipop in your mouth to the other side. “What’s it to you?”

“Hanamaki said I could sit with him at lunch.”

You sniff, clearly unimpressed.

And as if he’d heard it, Hanamaki appears in the doorway.

“Matsukawa, you made it.” He grins, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder as he slides into his seat. “What’d you get for lunch?” Hanamaki asks you without skipping a beat, already lifting the lid of your Bento Box. “Sausages, nice. Do you want to switch? I’ve got egg rolls.”

“Is this your friend?” Matsukawa asks, obvious interest sneaking into his voice.

Hanamki snorts. “No? She’s my mortal enemy.”

“Yeah,” you agree immediately. “Watch out for the rice. It’s laced with cy-cy-”

“Cyanide,” Matsukawa offers, pulling a chair closer. “I want the rice then. I’m offering tomatoes.”

Elementary school - 9 years old

“So, what did Yamagata want?” Hanamaki asks when you join them.

“He asked me out on a date.” You pick a tomato from Matsukawa’s Bento and chew on it as if you don’t care about it at all.

Hanamaki’s eyes are wide and round as he takes you in, his mouth open yet he seems to be speechless. Which is a first.

“You okay?” Matsukawa asks and for a second you’re not sure who he’s taking to, you or Hanamaki.

“That means you’re grown up,” Hanamaki whispers finally. “Like, a grown-up grown-up. Did you say yes?”

“No?” You ask back. “Yamagata is disgusting. He eats his snot.”

“You do that too,” Matsukawa points out.

“I stopped last year,” you point out, chopsticks raised for emphasis. “But if you think Yamagata is such a catch, you can date him if you want, huh?”

“No thank you,” Matsukawa waves his hands, “I’m waiting for Yoshida-chan.”

Yoshida-chan, your very lovely though also very old teacher, lifts her head from where she’d been reading at the desk and smiles in your direction, clearly not clued in on the joke.

You all smile and wave back, snickering quietly when she turns back to her book.

“But if you want to date,” Matsukawa points out, an eggroll perfectly placed between his chopsticks as he points, “You two can just date each other.”

“Yuck!” You both spit out at the same time and Matsukawa rolls his eyes.

Elementary school - 12 years old

You’re not the only girl waiting outside the gym.

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa have started playing Volleyball and you’re seriously considering taking it up next year as well. They make you train with them anyway in their free time and it sucks to either have to wait for them or go home alone. Baseball is only half as fun without them there.

“You think he’s going to say yes?” One of the girls in a group near you asks her friends. She’s pretty and you think she might be from one of the top classes.

“Of Course! Hanamaki would be dumb to say no.”

You turn a little at the mention of his name but it’s too late to do anything about it anyway when the doors open and the boys step out.

“Hanamaki, hi!” Pretty Girl all but dances over to where he’s walking toward you, stopping him in his tracks.

Matsukawa immediately realizes what’s about to go down, you can tell by the face he makes, but he doesn’t walk off, just stands there, stiff as a board, looming over Pretty Girl’s face.

“Uh, could you… walk away?” She asks and you hide your snicker behind your hand.

“Why?”

“Because… I was… uh… going to ask… Hanamaki… something?”

“So?”

“Hanamaki?” She’s determined, you have to admit that, turning back to him, “Could we talk in private for a second?”

To your surprise, both of the boys turn to where you’re waiting, looking at you as if waiting for a clue. It’s annoying as hell.

“What?” You ask, pointedly raising your hand to check your nails as if there’s anything to check but the dirt hiding under them. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Matsukawa waits next to you, quiet like a stone.

You want to know what she’s saying. Not that you don’t know what she’s saying, but you want to know what words she’s using. Hanamaki still can’t help but snicker every time someone mentions the L-Word like a little kid.

You don’t have to wait long.

Her face tells you everything you need to know as she slips into the group of her friends.

Hanamaki looks like nothing happened at all and you turn to leave with him, satisfied in a way you can’t properly explain.

“Is she-” A voice raises as you move and the three of you turn back again. It’s not Pretty Girl but one of her equally pretty friends. “Is she your girlfriend?” She nods in your direction.

You pull a face before Hanamaki can react.

“Ew. I’m his cousin.”

Matsukawa lives one street down from Hanamaki and you live one street further down, right at the river.

Today, he doesn’t stop at his place like he usually does, kicking a pebble down the street as if to tell you to keep walking.

“What did she say?” You ask eventually when the silence gets too loud.

“She told me I’m pretty.”

You snort.

“What?” He asks, laughter audible in his voice. “I’m pretty.”

“In your dreams,” you tell him and he’s full-on laughing now, both of you howling out a “He’s ugly!” as if Yasuda’s torment happened days ago instead of years.

Eventually, he kicks the pebble over to you to keep going and you follow suit, still snickering.

“I’d never have said yes,” he tells you, halfway caught between a snicker and something else, “Her lips looked like she put glitter glue on.”

“That’s lipgloss,” you explain, “It probably tastes like fruit.”

“I like fruit,” he says earnestly. “Do you have lipgloss like that?”

“No,” you lie and you don’t know why but your heart beats fast like a humminbird.

“Shame,” he sighs and you’re not sure if he means it. “Tell me when that changes.”

Junior High - 13 years old

“Your name’s going to be Makki,” Oikawa declares with the air of someone who rarely gets told off. “And your name’s going to be Mattsun.”

You push your lollipop to the side and narrow your eyes at him.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds cooler.”

“Shittykawa,” you offer, “Sounds way cooler.”

Iwaizumi next to him snickers and Oikawa turns to him with a pout.

“Iwa-chan!” He whines.

“Iwa-chan!” You repeat after him, expertly copying his whiny tone. Everyone laughs.

“You’re friends?” Oikawa asks just minutes later, still pondering on what nickname to give you. He points at you, then Mattsun, then Makki.

You roll your eyes.

“Mortal enemies,” you declare. “We’re bound until we kill each other. This is just our latest reanimation.”

“Oh, cool, like in that anime?” Oikawa asks immediately, eyes glowing.

You snort. Hanamaki leans over you, pushing your head into his sweaty armpit. You fight to get him off. Mattsun changes the topic.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi asks right as you part after class, “Do you want to become a manager?”

You blink, surprised that he asked you. He’s pretty shy around girls even if you don’t act like one most of the time.

“Didn’t think about that,” you tell him honestly, “I was going to try out for the girl's team first.”

“Oh, sure.” He starts to stutter, turning away. “Good luck.”

Makki looks after him, mouthing an exaggerated “Good luck” your way.

You roll your eyes.

“Do you think I should become a manager?” You ask as soon as Mattsun is out of sight.

Makki kicks a pebble over to you and you kick it back.

“I dunno, we didn’t have a manager in Elementary School,” he remembers. “Isn’t that job kinda boring?”

“Sure, but we could be in the same team, kinda.”

He nods slowly. Then, he grins. “You would have to wipe away my sweat.”

“Ugh, no!” You whine. “Gross!”

“Fetch me my water bottle, manager-chan!” He orders in the most conceited voice he can muster. “Hush hush, we have a game to win.”

“You’re impossible,” you tell him, pushing him off when he leans into you with all his weight. “You can get your own water bottles, loser.”

It’s only when his door comes into sight that he sobers up again, turning back to you.

“What do you think of Oikawa and Iwaizumi?” Makki asks, voice suddenly serious. It’s the first time he’s ever asked you something like that. You doubt he would have cared if you didn’t like Mattsun back then. Or would he?

“They’re okay,” you declare. “Oikawa is a little conceited if you ask me, but I guess Iwaizumi keeps him in check. Iwaizumi could be cool if we get him a little out of his shell, maybe? He’s so serious.”

Makki nods slowly.

“And lookwise?”

You furrow your brows. “Don’t ask me something like that, you know I don’t have any taste. We’ll see if the girls like them when it’s time, right? They liked you too and you look horrendous.”

“He’s ugly,” he crows softly and you roll your eyes, try to trip him and fail spectacularly.

Junior High - 14 years old

“I don’t want to be the referee again,” you declare pointedly when you join the boys at the riverbank, golden sunlight streaming over the area that has probably seen more Volleyball training sessions than your school gym. But who’s counting?

“Fine,” Oikawa huffs, yet again the one who decides everything. You roll your eyes behind his back. “You can be libero.”

“Oh yes, I’m saving your asses. Again.” You drawl out, smacking Makki’s butt as you pass by. He wiggles it again for good measure and Iwaizumi’s face turns red.

Half an hour later a group of boys joins you at the riverbank. You don’t know their faces, but Oikawa greets them eagerly. Not like friends, but friendly acquaintances.

“Who’s girlfriend is that?” One of them asks, pointing at you.

You scowl, but Makki’s faster than you.

“This, my esteemed gentleman, is my bodyguard,” he declares loudly. “It’s her job to keep me from getting killed, which is rather unfortunate.”

“Most of his death threats come from her,” Mattsun adds dryly. “Watch out, she bites.”

“Hey,” Makki’s leaning against the doorway of your bedroom, staring out your window at the riverbank below. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you groan into your pillow, wishing he’d leave. It’s one thing getting your period in a friendly mixed match. It’s another thing if you bleed through your pants so spectacularly one of the boys on the other team has to puke at the sight.

“You can leave,” you tell him when he’s still not moving minutes later.

But when you hear his footsteps, they come closer. Before you can look up and glare at him, he drops, his body almost crushing yours.

You yelp, but he’s too heavy, too much arms and legs and everything else and trying to fight him off turns into a tickle-fight instead. He begs for mercy minutes later, claiming he’ll pee on your bed if you don’t set him free.

“You suck,” you tell him as you stretch out next to him, looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom, all the glow-in-the-dark stars that you claim you will take down soon.

“You suck more,” he answers softly, falling silent for a while. It’s comfortable, being like this, just Makki and you, and no one else to judge it.

“You wanna go back out and kick their asses?” Makki asks eventually and you nod, slipping off your bed before he can push you off.

Junior High - 15 years old

“Interesting,” Mattsun watches Oikawa’s fanclub with the most bored look on his face, “Collective loss of good judgment. That’s rare.”

“Ah, there are still some good ones left,” you tell him, “Ishikawa from my Volleyball Club has a crush on you, by the way.”

“Oh?” Mattsun asks, turning. “Which one?”

“First year, pinch server, the one with the pixie cut.”

He ponders that for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t like short hair on girls.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re superficial.”

“What do you like?” Mattsun asks, a weird kind of grin on his face. And you know all his grins by now, or so you thought. “In boys, I mean?”

You furrow your brows. “How would I know? There’s no boy I like.”

Mattsun scoffs disbelievingly.

“What?” You ask, hackles rising.

A warm arm slings itself around your hips and a head lands heavy on your shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” Makki asks, smacking his bubblegum into your ear.

“What kind of boys she’s into,” Mattsun points out.

“Oh, I wanna hear that,” Oikawa fights himself free from his groupies and shuffles over, pulling Iwaizumi with him. “Because I have a feeling they have to be tall, good looking and into Volleyball.”

You roll your eyes, unsure if the heartbeat you feel in your chest is your own or Makki’s from how closely he’s pressed against you. It’s annoying, and you hate annoying things.

“Actually,” you tell them as pointedly as you can, “I like them small. Tiny, even. Really ugly too, because that adds character. It’s best if they’re practically disfigured.”

“But they have to be into Volleyball?” Iwaizumi asks, a small smile dancing over his lips.

You shrug, almost managing to push Makki’s head off your shoulders.

“Hobbies are Hobbies. He could be into knitting for all I care.”

“Ah well, that’s good to know,” Makki sings, “Because I saw a guy exactly like that. I could set you guys up.”

“You would do that?” You mock gasp, pressing your hands against your chest. “For your mortal enemy?”

“Anything for you,” he declares, pressing a fake tear from his eyes while the rest of the group turns away, no longer interested.

“By the way,” Makki tells you as he follows you down the road, Mattsun’s house growing smaller and smaller behind you, “Itoh-chan asked me out today.”

“Oh?” You look over. “When did that happen?”

“Ah, while you and Mattsun were discussing what kind of boys you like,” he grins cheekily.

“You mean while I was telling him that Ishikawa has a crush on him?”

“She does? What a shame, she’d really be his type if she had longer hair.”

“What do you guys have with hair?” You ask, a little exasperated. You don’t really expect him to pull on yours, but you’re not surprised when he does it either.

Makki stops in front of his house but he’s not going inside and you’re not leaving either.

“Don’t you wanna know what I told her?” He asks and his voice dares you to say yes.

“Not really. I’m gonna find out eventually.”

“I said no,” he shrugs, “Because she was talking about kissing me and I didn’t want to have my first kiss with someone who chews bubblegum like a horse.”

You roll your eyes.

“You’re superficial.”

“Maybe.”

Silence.

“Do you wanna practice?” You ask.

He looks at you, no sign of a joke in his eyes when he speaks.

“With or without lipgloss?” You realize that he knew what you meant when you asked, just like he’s always known what you thought before you said it out loud.

“What do you think?” You ask, moving one leg first and then the other. He falls into step next to you.

“What flavors are you offering?”

“Uh, I have one that’s supposed to be cherry flavored, but it tastes more like bubblegum.”

“I like bubblegum.”

“I know.”

His lips are dry and a little chapped, his hands clammy as they hold yours.

Kissing isn’t all that it’s made out to be, you decide unanimously a few minutes later and head down to the riverbank with a Volleyball instead.

High school - 16 years old

“Hey, we’re staying behind after training,” Makki tells you in between Classes, “Oikawa has this idea he wants to try out. Are you coming over to watch?”

“Sure,” you tell him, “Can’t have you walk home alone. You’d end up in Tokyo or something worse in the end.”

“What would I do without you?” He asks, exaggerating his theatrics as he dips back out of the classroom.

“Boyfriend?” The girl next to you asks curiously.

“Mortal enemy,” you declare and she furrows her brows and falls silent.

“Hey, we have training today,” you pull a lollipop from your jacket and pop it into your mouth, pulling a second one out when Mattsun stretches out his hand, asking wordlessly for one.

“Are you waiting for me?”

“What time are you going to be out?” Makki asks only half-listening as he copies Mattsun’s notes from the lesson. History is his weakest subject.

You calculate and name it and he nods.

“Yeah, sure, we can stay in the library until then and do our homework, right?” He turns to Mattsun who rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to wait around if you don’t want to,” you tell him and Mattsun’s eyes roll even harder.

You can’t help but snicker at it, knocking one last time against Makki’s desk when the bell rings, calling you back to your own Class.

“Alright, see you later guys.”

“Girlfriend?” One of the guys to their left asks, leaning over. “She’s pretty.”

“Mortal enemy,” Makki declares proudly, finally looking up from his notes. “I’d be careful. She bites.”

“No, no, this goes here,” you pull his hand from the paper before he can put the wrong number in yet again. “We’re not talking about the Edo period yet!”

“How do I know?” Makki grumbles, kicking his feet in the air behind him. “This shit sucks.”

“You wanna do something else?” You ask, not in the least bit minding a break. “Mattsun’s not coming over for another hour.”

“If ever,” Makki mumbles lowly and you look to the side just in time to watch insecurity flash over his face.

“You think he’s going to ditch you for a girlfriend?”

“Isn’t that how it always goes?” He asks, writing the wrong date in the space in front of him. You don’t care to correct him.

“We wouldn’t be like that,” you point out, not quite sure in what way you mean it.

“No,” he agrees easily. “We wouldn’t.”

“Mattsun’s not like that,” you assure him, putting your hand over his. “Shittykawa maybe, but not Mattsun.”

He stills for a second, eyes flickering over to yours. You can tell that he’s thinking about something, but you’re not yet sure what it is.

“Wanna try again?” He asks, voice low and quiet, his eyes flickering to your lips.

Not much history is studied that afternoon.

High school - 17 years old

It’s one of those rare days when you’re not coming home with Makki and Mattsun, dragging your tired body from the train station down the road.

You’ve cried more than enough already, yet your tears water again when Makki’s house comes into sight.

If only you hadn’t dropped that ball at that moment, had been a little faster that one time…

You know your mom’s waiting at home, food not quite ready yet, waiting to hear about the game.

But you can’t… you can’t…

The key is where it always is, hidden beneath the little wooden Tanuki at the front door.

The way up the stairs is so familiar you could do it in your sleep.

You slip into his bed and pull the covers over your head, smelling bubblegum and deodorant and a faint hint of sweat. It smells like Makki and you close your eyes, wishing you could shut out the tears just as easily as the light.

“Hey…” a warm hand on your shoulder wakes you. “You okay?”

You shake your head and he nods, slipping into bed with you.

“Do you want to continue Volleyball after High School?” Makki asks, arms slung around you. He’s like a monkey like that and you often wonder how he sleeps during training weeks. Does he sling himself around Mattsun or a pillow, does he dream of you or not?

“Not really, you?”

“Mhm, no. Winning is fun, but all that training would suck ass…”

You agree quietly, just a little noise in the back of your throat.

“So if you’re not going to continue playing anyway, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” He asks, “Just another blip in your life.”

“It’s not just another blip.”

“Remember how you bled so much you made a random guy puke?”

“Makki!” You howl, even louder when he bites into your shoulder.

But the pain soon subsides, turns into laughter that you can’t hold back.

“His face,” you remember, “He looked like he was going to pass out.”

“He’s ugly,” Makki howls and you press his hand, understanding finally why he keeps bringing up that joke.

Sometimes it’s best to laugh at your demons. They might not get smaller that way, but at least you have something to laugh at.

High school - 18 years

“Hanamaki-kun, I wanted to ask for your second button, oh…” The bright-eyed first-year stops in her tracks. The button is already missing.

She blushes a scarlet red, stuttering as she excuses herself.

“I don’t believe you,” Mattsun huffs, “You didn’t just wake up today, missing that button.”

“But I did,” Makki claims, “I swear, I’d never lie to you.”

“You always lie to me.”

“Name one time I lied to you.”

“When you told me your natural hair color was purple but it faded out over the summer.”

“Well, that’s on you, Mattsun. I can’t help you if you believe that of all things.”

“What did he believe this time?” You ask, walking over.

“Purple hair,” Makki points at his head. You scoff at Mattsun.

“I was six years old, okay?” He defends himself. “By the way, did you notice that Makki’s button is missing?” He points and you look.

“Nice,” you high-five Makki, “Who did you give it to.”

“I didn’t. Lost it at night. Some nightmare gremlin must have cut it off.”

“For real? Probably your mother who wants to curse you to stay home forever.”

“No, Mummy wouldn’t do such a thing.” He leans into you, trying to make you sway under his weight. It hasn’t worked in years but he keeps trying.

“How many buttons did you get?” Mattsun asks. “I saw Yamagata confessing to you in the hallway earlier.”

You pull a face.

“I don’t care if he’s no longer eating his snot, I’m not accepting a confession from him.”

“Why’s that?” Mattsun’s voice is saccharine sweet now and you narrow your eyes at him. You know what he wants to hear, but you’ve always been one to deny the things others want from you. Makki’s weight on you isn’t helping.

“If I say I don’t like someone, I’m not changing my mind on that.” You declare. Makki’s snickering above you, probably because he’s close to finally making you sway. You bite his bicep but he’s not moving away.

Mattsun rolls his eyes so hard it looks like he’s passing out.

College - 20 years

Your legs are flung over Makki’s and you’re so close to beating him when the door opens.

“Suck on that!” You yell as you swerve over the finish line, hitting his shoulder with your fist.

“Gladly,” he jokes, already choosing the next road as you look up.

“Oh, hi!” You wave at the guy standing in the doorway. “Are you looking for Mattsun? He’s in his room.”

“He said there’s a party going on tonight?” The guy asks. You try to place him, but your brain is failing you. He doesn’t look like he went to Seijoh, but Makki’s always been better at remembering faces.

“Yeah, for sure.” Makki declares. “Just a little later. You’re early. You can get yourself something to drink from the kitchen.”

“Cool.” He nods, walking over. He’s back in minutes, leaning over the backrest to watch, sipping whatever concoction he’s poured himself. “You two a thing?”

You don’t look up, too focused on beating Makki. You hate the rainbow road.

“Roommates,” Makki explains, his leg twitching under yours.

“Mortal enemies,” you declare, sticking out your tongue as you drift and push Makki off the road.

“Cool.” Couch-Guy leans in even further. “I’m Terushima by the way.”

Terushima finds you in the kitchen hours later. His eyes are glassy as he smiles at you and you wonder how many drinks he’s had.

You wouldn’t call yourself sober either, but you’d been so obsessed with beating Makki that you’re way behind on the others,

“What do you think?” Terushima flutters his eyelashes at you. “You and me? I could show you a good time.”

You swallow down a snort. He looks like he’s barely able to stand.

“Tell you what.” You point at your room down the hall. “Go lie down, I’m gonna be with you in a minute.”

“Awesome.”

You watch him stumble down the hall, how the door closes after him with a click. Seconds later Makki is leaning into you. He smells like bubblegum and the most disgusting brand of Tequila you’ve ever tasted.

“What are you doing?” He asks, snagging one side of the sandwich you’d been preparing.

“I sent the baby to bed.”

He snorts and you can feel his chin graze our shoulder as he peers over into the living room.

You steal a quick glance yourself. Some girl is trying her best in flirting with Mattsun who’s deep in an explanation about something that probably no one’s interested in.

The others are either drinking, singing, or snoring on the Couch and the floor.

Makki’s lips ghost over your bare shoulder.

“You’re sleeping in my room?” He asks, voice quiet as if anyone but you could hear him.

“Where else? My bed is already occupied.”

He pinches your hip, but he doesn’t move away, leaning heavy and warm against your back. You can feel his heartbeat like that, sluggish and slow and so well-known your heart beats in sync.

Work - 22 years

You’re sitting on Makki’s lap, or rather, in between his legs, playing on your phone as you wait for your stop.

There’s an older woman across from you who’s giving you the stink eye, but you don’t really care. It’s late, you’re both tired, and she can suck it.

“What do you want for dinner?” Makki asks, his head resting on top of yours.

“Rice.”

“We had rice yesterday.”

“Ramen?”

“Ugh.”

“You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.”

He falls quiet.

You let him, knowing damn well that he’s going to say it when he’s ready for it.

He pulls you up at your stop, links his hand with yours as you walk out.

It’s so not him, you’re almost worried. At least until he stops right at the corner, pulling a coin out of his pocket.

There’s a gumball machine there, one that sells cheap jewelry next to the cheap sweats.

He puts the coin in, twists and pulls a little ball out, presenting it to you.

“You shouldn’t have,” you tease, pulling the ball apart. It’s a ring, the metal bendable to fit every size. The design is even worse, a gaudy heart, but you don’t care, pull his hand up and slip it on his finger.

“Will you marry me?” You whisper as dramatically as you can and something flickers over his face, gone and away before you can catch it. He laughs, softly, and leans forward to kiss your temple.

“Oh, aren’t you a sweet couple?”

You turn, surprised to see an older lady standing behind you, squinting up at you in the fading daylight.

“Actually,” Makki starts. You can’t help but finish.

“We’re siblings.” You tell her. “Separated at birth. We just found out.”

Her eyes widen.

“What lovely news!” She chokes out, clearly confused.

You nod and bow and move away, pulling Makki with you as you rush down the stairs, suddenly no longer tired.

“They cut my hours,” he tells you later.

You’re stretched out on his bed, trying to convince yourself to get up again and do his workout routine with him. But the bed is comfy and you’re tired.

“How much?” You ask.

“Might not be able to pay rent this month.”

“I’ll cover it,” you offer. His mouth pulls into a thin line.

“Seriously,” you pull yourself up until you’re sitting. “I’ll cover it. You pay for my food all the time anyway. I could move in here with you and we open up my room for someone else. It’s no big deal.”

He still looks… unsure. Insecure. Like he’s not sure what to say or what to feel.

“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Remember? How am I supposed to protect you when you sleep in a different room anyway?”

Mattsun looks like he wants to say something. Scratch that. He looks like he wants to say a lot.

“Another roommate?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You nod. “You know, it makes sense, I should have thought about it sooner. As his bodyguard-”

“Mortal enemy.”

“And mortal enemy, thank you, Makki,” you pat his hand like one would do with a child. “It’s my job to protect him. I have neglected that for far too long. I’m moving into his room. Going to keep an eye on him at all times.”

Mattsun sighs.

“You can’t just say it? That you’re a couple?”

Makki gasps. You fake gag.

“We’re like siblings, Mattsun!” Makki claims. “Please keep your incestuous tendencies to yourself.”

“Ship someone else, will you?” You ask and he groans, pinches his nose, and shakes his head.

“Whatever. I’m not… You’re going to be the death of me. You can go and find us a third roommate for all I care… By the way, Makki, are we still on for Friday?”

Work - 24 years

“I think Ishikawa still has a crush on him,” you whisper into Makki’s ear. You have no interest whatsoever in the movie playing and neither does he, if the hand rubbing messages into your thigh is any indication.

“She still has that pixie cut,” he reminds you.

“Yeah, but it suits her now.” You point out and he shakes his head from side to side as if he’s thinking about it.

“Could you guys stop talking?” Mattsun growls from where he’s sitting. Ishikawa is sitting close enough that her hair must be tickling his nose. If only he’d put his arm around her.

“Excuse me, but we’re having a serious discussion,” Makki claims, picking a piece of popcorn and throwing it in the air. “Catch.”

It misses your mouth by a mile, landing somewhere behind you on the floor.

“Shit, again.” He picks another piece.

By the time the bowl is empty, Ishikawa and Mattsun are gone. You blink. The floor is covered in popcorn pieces and the movie has been over for quite some time if the flickering ad is telling you anything.

Makki picks up his phone from the table and squints at it.

“Mattsun took Ishikawa out for drinks.”

“Score.” You push him off the Couch. “Now come on, let’s get the vacuum.”

“Why do I have to?” He moans but gets up from the floor. “By the way, your hair looks pretty today.”

“What?” You look up from your own phone, your mind still halfway stuck in that email you just received.

“I said your hair looks shitty. What are you reading?”

“Apparently I got a promotion. Look.” You hand him your phone, pouring over the text together.

“Wow, shit, you’re going to earn so much more money,” he says, pulling you closer with his free hand. “How do you wanna celebrate?”

“I dunno, you decide.” You blink up at him. “I could treat you to that fancy hot pot place you mentioned last time.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “That’s stupid. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, it’s my money and I’m your bodyguard and I need to make sure you’re well-fed. So I guess Hot Pot it is.”

“You sure about that?” He follows you down the hallway to the closet where you keep the vacuum cleaner.

“Absolutely. What else would I do with my money? Buy you a diamond ring? Wait, do you want a diamond ring?”

“Please,” he huffs, “I only take Platin, you should know my style.”

Work - 26 years

“Oooh, look.” Makki pulls at Mattsun’s sleeve, dragging him to the left. “What do you think?”

Mattsun blinks. In front of him, behind thick glass, is a tray full of rings. Engagement rings.

“What do I think about what?”

“The rings, doofus. You’ve been dating Ishikawa for what, two years now?”

“1 year and eight months, okay. I’m nowhere near sure I’m going to marry you.”

“Still,” Makki pulls him through the door. “It’s good to do research. Thorough research.”

Mattsun rolls his eyes, digging his elbow into his friend's shoulder and navigating him to the left.

“Silver is less expensive.”

“Oi, since when are you a cheapskate?”

“Since gold turned expensive.”

They spend twenty minutes pouring over the options.

Mattsun has to admit, there are some pieces there that he wants to take a picture of, but he doesn’t, because it would be weird.

He watches his friend from the side, the way he takes in each ring.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, if this is a joke or serious.

“So, when are you going to ask her?” He asks when they step outside again.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“What am I asking?”

“If they marry you.”

“Why would I ask that?”

Mattsun groans in exasperation.

“Do you seriously find this funny? After all those years? Do you never just want to tell her that you love her or that she’s pretty or tell some weird dude that hits on her that she’s yours?”

“Oh, is that what you say to Ishikawa?” Makki asks, hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Yeah,” Mattsun says, “That’s what I tell her. Every day, if possible. Because it’s something she needs to hear. Because it’s true.”

Makki falters. He rubs the tip of his shoe over the asphalt under him, searching for a pebble to kick around.

“I don’t think she’d want to hear it. She’s not like… She’s not like Ishikawa, in that way. If she was, she’d tell me. She would have told me, you know.”

Mattsun sighs.

“Sorry. It’s your thing how you do it. If you’re both happy with it, continue being weird. It’s just hard to understand sometimes. But love you guys, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, you sap, I do.” Makki grins back at him.

His eyes fall to the watch above them and they widen.

“Shit, I’m late for work.”

“Hey,” Makki’s back way too early.

“Hey,” he mumbles, slipping into the chair next to you. “When did you get home?”

“An hour ago. Got all the Argentinian stuff for the match next month. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, away from you, yet his hands reach out. You take his left and press it.

“You sure?” You ask.

He nods.

Silence falls over you. It’s hard to continue typing with only your left hand, but you’re not willing to let go of his.

Eventually, he opens his eyes again.

“I got fired today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

Another beat of Silence.

“You wanna take a holiday?” You ask, closing your notebook for a moment to look at him. “We could drive to the beach for a weekend.”

“I wanted to buy you a ring.”

“Mhm,” you reach out and rub your thumb over his cheek. “Already bought me one. How many rings do you think I need?”

“How many fingers do you have?”

You wait for him to continue, but he falls silent again.

“Did you want to keep working there?” You ask. He shakes his head. “So if you didn’t want to keep working there, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” You ask, hoping he remembers a similar conversation when the roles were reversed. “Just another blip in your life.”

“It’s not just another blip.” He says and you can see some light returning to his eyes.

“Mhm,” you say, “Remember when Yasuda called you ugly in kindergarten?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles.

“I always thought you were very pretty.” He stills, his eyes flickering over your face.

“Really?”

“Really. Also, I love you.”

He grins. “I knew it. Called it when you tried to pee on me in elementary school.”

“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Your mortal enemy. Now, do you wanna go to the beach for the weekend or do you wanna stay in bed all day and play Mario Kart?”

Makki takes his sweet time to decide.

“Can we do both?” He asks eventually. “Play Mario Kart at the Beach?”

“So demanding,” you joke, leaning forward to kiss him.

There’s a ring packed in your things when you leave the city for the weekend.

It’s not Platin and not silver either, bought at the gumball machine with a few coins.

It will do for now.

“I could be your Navigator,” Makki offers as he looks up routes on his phone. “How much are you paying per hour?”

“Ah, not enough to be able to afford you,” you joke easily. “But I am looking for a housewife.”

“No way,” he gasps, eyes widening. “That’s exactly the job I was looking for. I make a fantastic sandwich.”

“Hired,” you offer him your hand. He takes it.

Tagging: @darthferbert @alienaiver @marti-mp4 @lemurzsquad @ @sachirobabe

#ADORABLE #I’m gonna cry this is so cute :(((#i love the chaotic dynamic of being in seijoh 4’s friend group sm #SO CUTE #makki fluff #hanamaki fluff

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 12 days

Note

I know I’m late, but may I request 16 or 30 from the Valentine’s prompts with Eskel, if you’re still taking requests? Thank you 💕 Your writing is the best!

La-Vide

The Need to Get Away

A/N: OF COURSE I CAN, ANYTHING FOR YOU. And you don’t even have to ask, because the only Eskel I write for is game Eskel :) (and hopefully some book Eskel as I read through more). Sorry this took so long! It’s been a WEEK, but I really appreciate the love.

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 2398

Warning: none! Just some fluff! (oh and absolutely CHAOTIC sibling energy)

Witcher Masterlist

Consider buying me a Ko-fi?

__________

It was nearing the end of winter, teetering on the edge of spring and the holiday of love was right around the corner. Most years Eskel wouldn’t bother to celebrate- the path was ever lonely and if company happened to be found, they barely stayed beyond the night.

But this year was different.

This year it wasn’t a mocking reminder of his isolating work, But rather a reminder that against all odds, somehow he found you.

When he first met you, you had been a radiant hearth in a house he didn’t even realize had gone dark and cold. No matter the day he had you always smiled and laughed when he came back to you with sticks and monster bits in his hair. You’d pick them out, ask him how his contract was, and spend all night in his tender embrace.

You made him feel normal, and for that, he wanted to give you something special- something he felt was worthy of the love he felt he had so unjustly received.

First, he tried the library.

He had set everything up perfectly; the fireplace crackled with the warmth of life, the fragrant petals of your favorite flower lay scattered around the stacks, and the warmest blanket in the entire keep was placed over your favorite loveseat.

He pulled out a stack of your favorite stories and even a few new ones he’d snagged in town before the bitter cold came. He figured you two could have a relaxing morning side by side in the library before you continued on to the rest of his plans.

… unfortunately, it didn’t last for long.

“Eskel, my love, did you do all of this for us?” You grinned as you opened the heavy wooden door. The pleasant smell of fresh flowers and old books swirled around you, its soothing scent enveloping you along with the warmth coming from the room's large hearth.

“I thought we could start with a quiet morning…” he said as he took your hand and led you to your seat where there was already a steaming mug just for you.

Your grin was so sweet and genuinely excited that even now, Eskel still lost his breath at the sight of it.

You settled down in your favorite loveseat, your legs thrown over Eskel’s lap as per usual as you settled in.

It seemed like the perfect way to start the day, book in your lap, mug in your hand, until-

BOOM

You nearly jumped 3 feet in the air when you heard the rumbling explosion beneath you, causing you to spill the contents of your mug into your lap and book.

“Ah!! Hot! Hot!” You shouted as you jumped up to your feet, dropping everything to the floor as you desperately tried to fan yourself.

Eskel wasted no time jumping up either, trying to pat dry your clothes and blow on them, but there was only so much he could do. Soon enough, thankfully, the entire room let out a relieved sigh as your clothes had finally cooled down, now just leaving you with a soaked, cold lap.

“Well this… could be worse,” you tried to stay positive as you looked at Eskel with a small smile “But What on earth was that? It sounded like it was right below us”

Eskel sighed, sitting back down as he watched you go stand near the fire to dry your clothes, “it probably came from the alchemy lab… it’s right below us but I don’t know who would be-“

BOOM

A smaller explosion went off.

“I meant to do that!” You heard Lambert’s voice yell as bits of rock crumbled and fell from the ceiling.

Eskel sighed, “I really should have guessed… It seems he chose today of all days to test his volatile substances…”

“‘Volatile substances’? You mean—“

BOOM

“Oh, THAT'S NEW” Lambert's voice shouted, a mix of excitement and concern…but mostly excitement.

“Bombs.” Eskel finished for you, “precisely.”

“Right…” you said quietly, seeming to be in thought as you nodded and fanned your clothes before the fire, “… should we not be here?”

“No probably not…”

Next, he tried the courtyard.

It was warm for the end of winter and the sun hung happily in the clear sky. Though there were still some weeks of winter left, soft green buds mistakenly peeked out of the twigs and branches above you, giving hope of a soon-to-be spring.

“So this morning didn’t go as planned, but I thought maybe we could spend some time with Lil Bleater?” Eskel suggested, carrying a small pack under his arm. The aforementioned noisy kid bleated up at her two-legged dad as she followed just half a step behind, urgently asking for everything from cuddles to treats to a sparring partner.

You laughed a bit and nodded, “of course… you know I can never get enough of her.”

As if sensing his intentions Lil Bleater suddenly ran ahead, bouncing around a large tree jutting out of the courtyard. Its roots had pulled up pieces of the stone walkway its many, many years of watching over the keep, but maintained a little bowl that was perfect for sitting. Landing with as much flare as a goat can she turned back to Eskel, yelling at him to set up right here.

“There? That’s where you wanna be? Alright, you’re the boss, Bleater…” your beloved said with a warm smile, unfolding the small blanket with a satisfying fwoosh.

The mountain of a man let out a sigh nearly as big as he was as he finally sat on the thin cushion of the blanket, “let’s try this again shall we..?” He offered, his notched lip tugging up at the corner as he reached out to you.

Practically falling into his lap, you wasted no time before curling into his warm embrace, your head resting pleasantly against his shoulder as you tried to take in the peace of the morning once again. Lil Bleater was quick to follow suit, climbing into your lap and nibbling at your clothes until you finally scratched her just right.

It seemed like everything was finally going right this time… that is until-

Clang! Clang clang! Ding!

Eskel groaned, his head knocking into yours as it hung in defeat again. He swore this day was testing him.

Geralt and Vesemir came round the corner shortly after, swords clanging viciously as they sparred, their mentor holding nothing back as he came at him again and again. Metal on metal rang incessantly in your ears and even Lil Bleater had to protest the unending noise they made.

“Baaaaah! “ she cried, pushing off of your lap in a rush as she ran swiftly in the opposite direction.

“Um… “ you muttered as you watched them keep going, even going so far as to wave at you as they passed. You wanted to say something, but this was still not your home, not technically, and you didn’t want to overstep your bounds.

Eskel sighed, he was a very patient man, but it was wearing thinner with every aggressive clang of metal ringing against the stone walls, “Of course they have to do this now-- Come on… why don’t you go in for lunch?” He suggested, his smile much more tired now as he helped you up, “I’ll be in soon, okay? Hopefully, it’s quieter in the hall.”

And then… it was lunch…

Eskel was hard at work in the kitchen, willingly unbothered by the racquet of his brothers as he put the finishing touches on his meal. He had prepared most of it earlier that morning, having already planned ahead on sharing your favorite lunch. “Okay… it’s done,” Eskel mumbled to himself as he looked out the thin window, “and with any luck, my brothers will still be busy while we eat….”

As Eskel brought out plates for the both of you, looking cautiously around the hall, he had to sigh in relief; his brothers were still out and about.Maybe he could finally have time for just the two of you.

Thank any and every god that one of his activities was going right.

Your smile was gentle and patient as he headed toward you, your whole expression graced with a wash of wonderfully stubborn love. Eskel nearly tripped on a raised tile, his eyes lost in yours instead on the path ahead of him, before quickly recovering his footing.

“Careful there…,”. You warned with a laugh, “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to lunch after all the trouble you’ve gone through today.”

Your Witcher huffed a small laugh, but refused to jinx it any further

However…

About four bites in the hair on the back of his neck began to rise. Something didn’t feel right. He stopped and looked around the hall. All was quiet, but something still nagged him.

Hm.. it’s not his Witcher senses bothering him, or his medallion would have gone off. No… what was bothering him was his sibling senses.

Carefully he put his fork down, the gentle ding clear in his ears. He looked at you, innocent and unaware of what was yet to come, you were too engrossed in your meal to notice the danger looming all too close.

“It’s too quiet-” he tried to warn, but it was too late.

Almost as if it was planned, both Lambert and Geralt came in from different doors and their senses were set on Eskel’s premade food.

“No, no, no, no..!” Eskel started to stand, yellow eyes flaring as Geralt slid in next to you, and Lambert next to him.

“Oooh, smells good, whatcha got there big guy?” Lambert asked with a grin as he reached over onto Eskel’s plate, taking a bite of the meticulously made dish, “oh shit, this is good!”

Geralt looked over onto your plate, “Hm? Can I try some?” He asked, tone calm and deceivingly gentle, but Eskel knew his brothers. Lambert was brash and didn’t care about the consequences as he reached for what he wanted. Geralt on the other hand was calculated. As a child he learned quickly that he needed his approach to be smart if he was going to skirt the slaps and jabs Lambert got, so he’d stick his foot in the door. He’d ask to try some, complement the work, and then eventually get YOU to offer HIM part of your meal. Eskel had fallen for it many times.

“Oh, of course,” you smiled pleasantly as you offered him a fork, watching him take a politely small bite.

“Oh it’s good, Eskel you made this?” Geralt complimented, the slightest smile on his lips as he met the blazing eyes of his closest brother.

“I did…” Eskel gritted out, pushing Lambert away from his plate as he went to reach in again.

“Huh, you’ve never cooked like this for us…” Geralt remarked, rubbing his ‘aching arms’ “mm, too bad my arms are so sore from training today to make myself something like this…”

“Oh… well, would you like some more of mine? I’m sure there’s enough to go around.” You said, offering him a few more forkfuls.

Geralt grinned pointedly at his brother as he lifted his fork again, “Wow, Eskel… you must’ve brought home the most generous person on the continent….”

You smiled at the compliment, but the pleasant expression quickly fell as Eskel stabbed his fork into the table, dangerously close to Lambert's reaching hand, and wordlessly walked away. His shoulders were tight and arched, like a threatened animal, and you weren’t sure if it was growling or muttering beneath his breath that you heard.

“Eskel? My love, where are you going?” You asked as he turned the corner wordlessly.

“Well,” Lambert said, scooting over into Eskel’s seat as he took his plate with a grin, “If he’s not going to finish it then I guess I should.”

All of this Chaos and turmoil had bubbled and stewed and now you hadn’t seen Eskel all afternoon. Sunset was just a few hours away and you were starting to get worried.

“Where could he be..?” You mused to yourself as you pushed past the front doors.You had just stepped outside to look for him once again when you heard a familiar, yet excited sound.

“Bahhhh!” Lil Bleater yelled as she ran toward you, her gait quick and determined as she trampled a path straight toward you.

“Hey, kiddo. Have you- wait, what’s this?” You asked as you quickly snatched the note she was chewing away.

‘Meet me at the stables? Dress warm. -E’

You grinned as you saw Eskel’s neat handwriting scrawled across the simple note. With all the speed you could manage you rushed to get your warmest clothes on, a grin plastered on your face the entire time as you raced through the keep and down to the stables. What you weren’t expecting though was to see Scorpion saddled up, packed saddle bags bulging with various items.

“Eskel..? What is this..?” You smiled, nearly out of breath as you slowed to a stop before the stead-fast stallion. “Are you going somewhere?” You asked, petting Scorpion’s dark muzzle as he leaned his nose in to sniff around your pockets.

“We are,” he smiled, looking at ease once again as he came to your side, “I’m sorry today was- sort of a disaster. I had all of these things planned and just… nothing seemed to go right,” he admitted. “But I think I found the perfect solution…. How do you feel about an impromptu road trip? There’s a little clearing up the side of the mountain that has the most amazing sunsets.

There’s a big tree in the middle that’s perfect to sleep under, and after we eat dinner-” he knocked on a saddle bag, its noise clanking with the sound of a pot and its utensils, “then maybe we can make a fire and stargaze..?”

His large frame was uncharacteristically nervous, his gaze staring down at his rough hands as they came together in front of him. He hoped you’d be willing to try it all again, It hadn’t been a great start, but he was still determined to see it through for you.

When he finally looked up from his hands the brightness of your toothy grin was contagious, Eskel’s own lips tugging up into a wide smile.

“Oh, my love… you had me at ‘road trip’.”

_________

Witcher Taglist: @writingmysanity @novigrad--dreaming @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut @beardedladyqueen

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 12 days

Text

Cuddling Eskel HCs

While Eskel is the kindest and most polite Witcher, I think he’s also the loneliest. Unfortunately his scars don’t exactly bring in the admirers like his white haired brother’s does and his mild nature doesn’t really put him out there much.

That’s not to say he’d let it get the best of him though. Early on, before you guys have a true and defined relationship, he’d steal a couple touches. A grazing of his fingers as he reaches for something, an “accidental” knocking of each others knees under tavern tables, or a quick brushing away of dirt from your cheek.

The best though were sharing a saddle during long rides. Where- depending on how much sleep you got- you’d either ride behind him, your arms wrapped around his chest and staying there. Or, if you had been tossing and turning the whole night before he’d have you sit in front of him. This way he can have his arms most of the way around you, keeping you from falling off the side. If he was lucky you’d fall asleep to Scorpion’s rhythmic movements and lean back against his soft chest as you snoozed.

However when you got closer he became a little more confidence in reaching out for you, though he still likes the little surge of confidence and love he feels when he sees you reach out for him first.

But once your place in each other’s lives is more established he’s much more apt to slip his hand into yours as your walking or hold open the blanket in an invitation for you to join him under the covers.

In winter it’s 10 times worse. Eskel handles the cold perfectly fine, he’s learned how in his years growing up at the keep. But he also knows it’s the perfect excuse to pull you in closer to him, to spend those 10 extra minutes in bed just holding you that much closer.

Speaking of- the classic question: Big spoon or little spoon? Eskel is s big spoon man, his whole purpose in life his to protect and with you it’s only amplified, especially if you two are out on the path.

However, Eskel has discovered a great fondness for laying his head on your chest/stomach. Specifically when he can lay between your legs, his chest and head laying peacefully on top of you. Soft hums emanate from the mountain of a Witcher as your hands run through his hair, fingers massaging his scalp idly and picking out twigs and leaves. He loves listening to your heart beat in this position, Loves knowing that you’re here, you’re his, as if you’re a dream he’s still not sure if he’ll wake up from.

———-

Witcher Taglist: @writingmysanity @novigrad--dreaming @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut @beardedladyqueen

Wanna be added to the Witcher taglist? DM/Ask me to let me know!!

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 15 days

Text

Man’s best friend

word count; 489 – gn!reader, fluff?

You walk into the kitchen to find your husband, Kageyama Tobio, snacking on salty crackers. He’s looking at you from the second you enter the room as if he's always measuring your next move.

“Tobio,” you say seriously as if you didn’t already have his attention. He just nods, mouth busy with chewing. “I think we should get a dog.”

Tobio’s face falls. He looks pouty already, and you think you know why. “We can’t,” he says after finally swallowing his snacks. “Animals hate me.” In your mind, he sounded just as annoyed about it as he was when he first told you years ago.

“But if we go to a shelter, maybe you’ll be the perfect match for one of the sweet dogs who need a home!” you insist, walking closer with your hands clasped together. Your puppy eyes were working full time so Tobio looked away and sighed.

“We can go, but don’t be too sad if we can’t find one that likes both of us.” he insisted. You flung your arms around his neck and hugged him tight, thanking him over and over.

“We’re getting a dog!”

You were not getting a dog. At least not so far.

The caretakers of the shelter had led you two to a little room where they let two and two dogs meet you at a time. While you were having a great time, your husband was continuously either barked at or shied away from. Every time you stood by him, you would squeeze his hand, adding a kiss on the cheek every now and then to keep the motivation going.

You had started to give up when they announced that this would be the last dog that fit your description, but that she was very shy. Out came a medium-sized dog who walked carefully into the middle of the room. You squatted down and held your hand out, coaxing it over to you. However, even the caretaker in the room gasped when the dog walked over to Tobio and sat beside him, looking up at him with big eyes.

Tobio was frozen just like you, admiring the dog until it started whining a little for attention. “Pet it, Tobi,” you whispered, making your husband finally move. He bent down a bit awkwardly before running his hand over its head. Eventually, this progressed to him sitting down with his legs crossed and the dog settled in his lap. You had come over eventually, petting the kind dog as well and looking up at Tobio who was smiling so genuinely.

“I think she likes me,” he said happily, and it was the kind of softness you rarely got to see in him, even though you knew it was there.

“She chose you.” you agreed, making him puff out his chest proudly and look at the caretaker who came into the room again after leaving you to it.

“We’ll take this one.”

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 15 days

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Workplace romance

word count; 941 – f!reader, fluff

“The Schweiden Adlers ball is next weekend, I assume you know that,” you mumble to start off, already used to how Kageyama’s knee bounces repeatedly in what you could only assume was restlessness. “I just need to know who you will bring as a date. There will be paparazzi and I just want to make sure I have everything under control.” As you were speaking, you didn’t really look up at the man, simultaneously finishing off the notes from your previous meeting with Hoshiumi.

“A date?” Kageyama repeated back to you and you chuckled softly at his confusion, sparing him a glance.

You’re one of Schweiden Adlers’ PR managers, recently tasked with handling the three younger members, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hoshiumi Korai and Kageyama Tobio. They are all pretty sweet and you thanked the heavens every day that you didn’t end up as PR manager for the MSBY Black Jackals. “Yes, you get a plus one. You could also bring your mom or sister, that’s always good for your image. Alternatively, there’s no problem with going alone. Although that might call forth a different genre of headlines…” you rambled, doing your job and analysing the different options without even noticing how the young man was twiddling his thumbs in his lap nervously.

Kageyama was the one you spoke with the most from the team, as he was also the newest to this business. While the two of you would talk casually outside the four walls of your borrowed office all the time, you loved your job and preferred to stay stressed and professional while doing meetings. “But I could bring a date too? Someone I like?” he asked. For some annoying reason, his words made you stop writing and an icky feeling crept into your stomach.

“Of course, I just need to know who so that I can take the necessary precautions…” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek as if to force yourself to speak.

“Will you go with me?” he asked. Finally, ran through his mind as your eyes finally stilled where he could see them, staring right into his. Kageyama smiled nervously, hoping you would answer any second now. It’s a bit like the smile you finally coaxed out of him for those commercial photos. Oddly charming.

“You want to go with me?” you asked, wondering if you heard him correctly and straightening up in your seat. Hopefully, he couldn’t see your bright red ears.

“Yes,” he answered simply. No room for misunderstanding there, you suppose.

“That’s…” you couldn’t help the giddy chuckle you left in the air as you looked back down at all your messy notes. “Very unexpected.”

“Why? I thought I made it obvious that I like you,” he said, blunt as ever. Tobio felt like this should not be a surprise at all, as he made an effort to talk to you every time he saw you and even got you a box of milk on the days he knew you would be there in advance. Was his affection not obvious?

You’re full-on grinning like a madman now, burying your face in your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks. “I would love to go with you.” you finally declared, not responding to his blunt confession because you weren’t quite sure how to yet. “But I need to talk to some of our bosses and make sure it’s approved first. We wouldn’t want any scandals to plague your name,” you said, removing your hands from your face as you went halfway into work mode again. You flipped to a new page in your notebook and wrote down what information you needed. The smile was still stuck on your face and Tobio was happy to see it.

“Okay.” he agreed. There was still a sense of childish innocence to him that you really liked. “But I don’t want to go with anyone else,” he added as if that was just stuck in his mind.

“You should go back to practice, Tobio,” you said, using your softest voice to make sure he knew you weren’t trying to be dismissive. “If you stop by before you leave today, I will let you know how it’s looking after making some calls,” you told him, smiling as he got up.

“I will see you soon, then.” He bowed, about to leave when you spoke again.

“Tobio!” you called, pursing your lips and considering your next words before they just spilt from your lips. “I like you too.”

Kageyama walked back to practice with a happy smile, making Hoshiumi frown at him as if it was the creepiest thing he had ever seen. Meanwhile, you were in your office kicking your feet and punching the air in joy before taking a deep breath to start making those calls without giggling.

He stopped by after practice, like he promised, knocking on the door and walking in with a hopeful spark in his eyes. You told him how this might play out so he would be prepared for any potential consequences, but could still happily inform him that you would be going with him to the event.

And boy were your assumptions right. The headlines questioning whether or not this was appropriate were simply unavoidable. However, it only took one press conference to quiet it down.

“She’s very sweet, I really like her. It would make me sad if we could not be together just because she also works with keeping me and my teammates out of trouble,” he said softly, making the reporters coo and the headlines turn from Volleyball manager: Inappropriate moneygrabber to Living our fantasies: Kageyama’s workplace romance.

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dragonslayer-5fanfiction · 15 days

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The art of flirting

word count; 1583 – f!reader

Everyone else on Kamomedai’s volleyball team would probably say that their second-year manager’s relationship with Hoshiumi Korai was very flirty. However, you and Korai saw it more as a rivalry. You would always be bickering back and forth, throwing insults and annoying comments at each other like it was breathing. Being a manager was truly rewarding, but you and the one-man army simply couldn’t get along.

When Korai stepped out of the locker room, very ready to get on the bus back so he could rest, he saw you. His eyes always found you, even if the room was filled with other people. You were there to make sure all the boys came safely out of the locker room and went in the direction of the bus instead of wandering off.

Korai automatically scoffs and adjusts his bag up on his shoulder. “What a difficult job you have,” he said sarcastically, raising a brow as he walked over to look at the notepad you were writing on. You jumped slightly at his sudden presence and looked up, but Korai was surprised when you first met his eyes and then looked up at his hair. And to top it off, you blushed. It looked sweet on your soft skin, making the boy a bit dazed even though he was frowning.

You were flustered because he wore his hair down after a shower.

“It would’ve been easy if I didn’t have to look at your ugly face all the time,” you said, but it sounded much less annoyed than usual. The warm colour on your face made you much less convincing.

“Good one, tomato face,” he said back and rolled his eyes, stepping past you towards the doors. You looked at him over your shoulder, mentally beating yourself up at how ridiculous that was while also getting another good look at him because when did Hoshiumi get so handsome?

The short boy sat down in the bus seat beside Hirugami with a heavy sigh. His friend raised an eyebrow. “I assume you met y/n on your way out?” he asked rhetorically, amused with how he crossed his arms stubbornly.

“She’s so freaking annoying, looked at my undone hair and suddenly acted all bothered,” he grumbled, making faces at the seat in front of him from thinking about it.

Hirugami almost got annoyed with how oblivious his friend could be. Obviously, you two found each other attractive and refused to admit it. After all this time, you finally revealed a crack in your resolve, yet all Korai saw was a challenge. “Probably thought you looked hot,” he said casually, looking out the window where you followed the last players out the door, laughing at something one of them said.

Korai was looking as well, but his eyes widened at Hirugami’s theory. Now his cheeks were even redder than yours were earlier as he grumbled something under his breath and turned away, staring at the floor instead. “What do you know anyways...”

However, there was no denying – despite your continuous attempts – how the atmosphere changed around you two after that. Perhaps even you two could admit it was flirty now, as you laughed at his missed serve during practice and he came over to playfully punch your upper arm and mess up your hair before going back to the practice game. There was always a light air of laughter around you now that wasn’t there before, a discreet way to tell the other please, don’t stop giving me your attention!

Who could blame him for never doing his hair after showering anymore to watch your red cheeks and smile at you before going home for the day? All so he could be recharged for another day of foolery knowing he still had your attention.

And who could blame you for targeting his height with your teasing just so he would come closer to you and make you repeat it to his face? All so you could bat your eyelashes and then push him away while the others gaped at how much differently he reacted when you did it.

Hirugami wasn’t sure which one was more frustrating, before or now. Because both of you were still too stubborn to admit your feelings first. Will he intervene? No! Maybe... Most definitely.

He started with his best friend. Korai was telling him about some observations from their last match at lunch when Hirugami very obviously diverted his attention elsewhere. Korai followed his gaze and found you, smiling and laughing with your friends like you always do. With a small tsk, he turned back around quickly. “Am I boring you?” he asked with the usual attitude.

“Think that guy likes her?” Korai had to ignore how frustrating it was to have a question answered with a question in favour of turning back to where you were. Hirugami smiled at the shift in Korai’s expression.

Korai never took the time to look at your friends, not when he could be looking at you. So he hadn’t really noticed how some of your friends were guys and one of them was leaning particularly close at the moment. It shouldn’t annoy him, because he totally doesn’t like you like that, but it did. “I don’t care.” he insisted, but it wasn’t very convincing when he didn’t stop staring.

Hirugami let out a fake dramatic sigh, spooning another portion of rice into his mouth. “Doesn’t matter, I heard that she likes someone in the volleyball club anyways,” he said as if it was just a throwaway line. Of course, it wasn’t just that to Korai, whose neck looked like it could have snapped from how quickly he turned back to his friend. He was squinting, as if trying to spot any hints of a lie on his face.

“Whatever.” Hirugami’s job was done here, now he just had to talk to you. Unless Korai got to you first, that is. His friend wasn’t exactly known as a patient guy.

The middle blocker passed by you in the hallway on the way to the volleyball club, and he thought fate might be with him. “Y/n, wait up!” he said and fell into step with you while you smiled at him. “Korai was looking for you earlier.”

“He was?” you asked, making Hirugami smile even more.

“Think he wanted to ask you something,” he added casually, and he could swear you walked with a spring in your step now.

You stood beside Korai while they had a break, giving him his water bottle last and wondering what he had wanted to ask you earlier. “So what’s up?” you asked, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow. That was unusually civil of you.

“Nothing, weirdo,” he answered. Maybe Hirugami shouldn’t have intervened…

“Oh, okay,” you said, suddenly looking oddly dejected. Part of you was embarrassed at the hope you had felt when you heard he wanted to talk to you. You’re supposed to deny any feelings, but it was getting more and more difficult every day. Korai was facing the court but didn’t stop looking at you in the corner of his eyes.

Silence fell over you as you tried to think of something else to do, but the other managers were already hard at work. “You look good with your hair like that,” Korai said, making you look at him quite stunned, but he was already jogging back out on the court as the coach blew the whistle.

It made you dizzy. You were thinking constantly about how confusing Korai was today. Did you do something wrong? Did you do something right?

Once again, Korai didn’t style his hair after practice, looking for your attention on his way out of the locker room. He walked over to you while you were gathering your stuff to leave. “Who is it?”

You stop your movement of trying to fit the stupid shoes in your bag, slowly turning your head to look at the boy you wished wasn’t so handsome. “Who’s the dumbest person in this room? I’m looking right at him.” you quipped. It wasn’t a very good insult, but it was all you could manage in your state of attraction mixed with confusion.

“Ha ha. No, who do you like on the team?” he said, or more like insisted. You straightened up and a blush covered your cheeks the way he liked, but he was looking at you with such a deep frown that you felt nervous.

“I like all of you. Even though you’re a bit of a turd sometimes,” you answered childishly.

“You should like me more.” It was a confusing statement, and now you were both just staring at each other as if trying to decipher what the other one was thinking.

“Why?” you finally asked, nose scrunching as you gained some attitude back.

“Because I like you more. It’s only fair,” he said like it wasn’t a confession. It was.

“Fine, then I like you more,” you said stubbornly. If Hirugami saw your matching frowns right now, he would probably laugh.

“Good.”

“Great.” And then Korai couldn’t take it anymore. Curse you and your sweet red cheeks. He put his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin, and the second he saw how your expression softened, he pulled you in for a kiss.

Fortunately, Hirugami didn’t miss this part. He chuckled under his breath and shook his head before leaving the gym. “Finally.”

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