Thinking About Post Time Skip Haikyuu Is So Funny To Be Bc The People Who Know Other People Is Crazy

boyfriend!kirishima who makes you his whole personality — it's honestly sickening how obsessed he is with you, and he doesn't even try to hide it. every conversation circles back to you somehow.

boyfriend!kirishima who never misses a chance to call you beautiful, no matter where you are or what you're doing. you could be in pajamas with messy hair, brushing your teeth, or covered in food — and he's still looking at you like you're the most radiant thing he's ever seen.

boyfriend!kirishima who gets ridiculously excited when he finds something that reminds him of you. he’ll send you twenty-five blurry photos of a weird-shaped rock because “it kinda looks like your cat” and he’s already named it. it's now living on his shelf. it's part of the family.

boyfriend!kirishima who insists on carrying your bags, opening every door for you, holding your hand when you cross the street — even if it's just a parking lot. proving chivalry isn't dead.

boyfriend!kirishima who sends you gym selfies, but not just any selfies — specifically of his biceps, flexing hard, with a cheeky caption like “thinking of you 💪❤️” because he knows you love it (and he lives to impress you).

boyfriend!kirishima who, when ordering for you or talking about you in public, casually refers to you as his wife. “yeah, my wife would love the fries” or “oh, my wife showed me that!” and he doesn’t care if people correct him — you’re his forever in his heart, so why wait?

boyfriend!kirishima who’s never afraid to try anything you suggest. even if he’s deathly afraid of heights, if you say you want to skydive, he’s already booking it with trembling hands and saying “as long as i’m with you.”

boyfriend!kirishima who checks in regularly throughout the day. little texts like, “don’t forget to drink water, okay?” and “you’ve got this. i’m so proud of you.” he sends affirmations like they’re love notes, because he wants to be the voice in your head that reminds you you’re doing amazing.

boyfriend!kirishima who lets you talk his ear off about anything and everything. even when you think he’s distracted, he’s soaking up every word, remembering little details to bring up later just to see your face light up.

boyfriend!kirishima who always talks about the future like it’s already decided — you and him, together. “once we’re living together, we can get a dog?” “maybe we can paint our bedroom that color.” he never lets you forget that he sees you in every part of his life.

boyfriend!kirishima who makes you the sweetest, most thoughtful diy gifts. a jar full of reasons he loves you, all handwritten. matching bracelets he stayed up all night making because he wanted them to be perfect. things that take time, effort, and love — because that’s how he loves you: completely.

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© plushieni do not copy, steal, translate, repost any of my work

Thinking about how Atsumu turned all pouty whenever he saw his teammates getting a jump hug from their partners after a game.

“Why can’t we do that?”, he whined and looked at you with big puppy eyes.

“Because I would hurt you.”, you replied patiently.

“Nuh-uh. Why do ya think I go to the gym?”

His sage logic aside you only chuckled, still fairly certain he wasn’t serious.

“A layman might think it’s for your job.”

“Not anymore!”, he countered, “Been meaning to tell ya. I’ve long ago abandoned the dream and am now solely focused on giving ya the lovin’ ya deserve. Up against a wall.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, honey, but that will never happen.”, you patted his cheek and turned to join the crowd in their slow migration towards the exits.

“Why not?”, he whined, catching up with you.

“Because I will not be responsible for the end of a pro athlete’s career, that’s why.”

“That’s so unfair.”, he stepped into your way, “I want a jump hug. With impact. I want us to almost bang our heads together and only narrowly avoid a major concussion.”

Chewing your lips you looked down at yourself, at the chubby tummy and thick thighs that Atsumu loved to use as a pillow for his naps.

“How long would it take me to talk you out of it?”

“My funeral.”

And so you sighed. “Fine.”

As you put some distance between you and him for a good running start you bumped into a few people and thought more and more about what an incredibly stupid idea this was. But then you saw your boyfriend roll his shoulders and widen his stance, so very ready to catch you.

“Don’t be scared, baby! I got ya!”, he called and unfortunately pulled several surrounding eyes onto you.

When you finally ran at him and jumped, you closed your eyes waiting for him to tip over but your man stood strong. Not even a wobble in sight. You clutched at his biceps, still sweaty from the game, and squinted at him hesitantly.

A wide cocky grin was spread across his face and he adjusted his grip on you.

“Told ya I gotcha.”

When I saw @bunnis-monsters baby bee hybrid art and....THIS IS THE CUTEST FUCKING IVE EVER SEEEN I LOVE THEM SOO MUCH TSHEYEYXHECAHSYJD

he’s going to the vet to get his shots >:0

joe confirming he's going to grow the curls out

You, Me, and Forever

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson has never been careful. He loves big, loud, and without hesitation.

The ring wasn’t anything fancy.

No diamond, no fancy box.

Just a simple silver band, a little worn but still beautiful.

Eddie turned it over in his fingers, his leg bouncing slightly like he was nervous.

Because he was. Very.

“I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” he said, his voice rough. “I didn’t plan a big thing, didn’t ask your dad or get some expensive ring.” He took a breath, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

“But I swear, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You sat next to him on the floor of his trailer, your backs against the couch, an open pizza box beside you.

The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid attention to it anymore.

“You’re serious?” you asked, staring at the ring.

Eddie let out a nervous laugh. “Dead serious.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his curls even more. “I know we’re young, and maybe it’s crazy, but I don’t care. I just know I want you. Forever.”

Your heart pounded in your chest so hard it almost hurt. So loud, you were sure he could hear it.

Forever.

Eddie had always been wild. You often found him throwing himself into things without fear, never holding back. And now, he was doing the same with you.

And you loved him so much for it.

Your throat felt tight, your hands shaking just a little.

Eddie swallowed hard, suddenly realising that it might have been too much for you. “Shit, you don’t have to say yes, I just-”

“Yes,” you whispered.

His eyes widened. “What?”

You reached for his hand, guiding him as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was a little big, but it didn’t matter.

“Ask me again,” you said.

Eddie’s forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm. “Marry me.”

You smiled and confidently spoke up once more. “Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

Not soft, not careful, after all, Eddie didn’t do anything halfway.

His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you close, kissing you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

Eddie loved with all of his being.

And you’d never wanted anything more.

---

Eddie leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk.

“You’re gonna kill me, Sweetheart.”

You raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He pushed off the counter, closing the space between you. “Yeah. Every single day.”

Your back pressed against the counter as his hands rested on your hips.

“You’re silly,” you whispered, fingers running into his curls.

“And you’re beautiful, and funny. And way too good for a guy like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie-”

“I’m serious.” He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t know how I got this lucky, but I’m never letting go.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “You’re really bad at shutting up, you know that?”

He grinned. “Then make me.”

So you kissed him.

Eddie loved loud. He loved you.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

unspoken valentine

fwb!eddie munson x reader

summary: you want more, but eddie’s destructive tendencies get in the way. (2.2k)

warnings: sexual content but no smut, small mention of oral (m. receiving), angst, hurt/comfort, eddie self-sabotaging stuff, mdni.

<3

“There you go, babe. All cleaned up.”

Eddie shuffles back into your bed after tossing the used tissue in your trash can, smiling into your hair when you cuddle closer to him. His heart warms when you lay your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

Eddie knows he’s so incredibly lucky to get to hold you like this in your post sex haze because it wasn’t always like this. Before, when the already muddled boundaries of friends with benefits weren’t crossed, the two of you would quickly dress right after fucking and go on with your days as if nothing ever happened. It’s different now.

Now that he’s surrounded and completely captivated by you, mind foggy with the sultry scent of sex and your fruity perfume that lingers on his sheets and skin, Eddie wonders how he was able to do it before. How was he able to tear himself away from your warmth the second the two of you were done and move on as if you didn’t just have the best sex of your lives?

Leaving you was once easy, but now it is an impossible feat. He’s never felt such a fervent need for affection from anyone until you started coming by more often, letting him kiss your lips after you finished, and touching him as if you weren’t just casually fucking.

At first, he thought the fantastic sex was just getting to his head, making him see you in a way that wasn’t akin to his very platonic feelings towards you. But then he started catching himself admiring the cadence of your laughter and the beauty in your eyes. And so the pining ensued.

He started doing little things for you like offering to fix your car and bringing you lunch to your work (usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because it’s all he knows how to make and a cookie from your favorite bakery.)

Really, Eddie was disgusting whipped. He found that it wasn’t difficult, rather incredibly easy, to like you. All it took was a simple glance of yours for his heart to skip a beat, cupid’s arrow striking him right through the chest every single time as if he wasn’t already halfway in love with you.

And maybe, a small part of him thought, maybe you like him in the way he likes you. He’s nearly certain that there’s something unspoken between the two of you.

He’s noticed the way you light up whenever he’s near, his mere presence pulling you out of your sour moods, and the way you get all shy and flustered when he compliments your smile or kindness or whatever else it is that has his head spinning that day.

He’s realized that you touch him like you love him. Eddie knows that touch is your way of showing affection, constantly noting the way you hug Robin tight when you haven’t seen her in a while or rub a hand between Steve’s shoulders when he’s stressed. But, when you’re with him, your cuddles and embraces and nibbles and pinches are bursting in a certain romance that you’ve never shown to anyone else. You always take a moment to place a trail of small love-filled kisses down his chest before dipping down to take him between your lips. And when you’re cuddled close against him afterwards, you trace the ridges of his scars with nimble fingers, as if to remind him of how beautiful he is, scars and all.

He’s okay with this odd dynamic for now. But the consuming and enthralling thought of you feeling the same way he does is one he constantly brushes away, his fear of rejection and self-sabotaging tendencies never allowing him to linger on the subject.

He’s having a difficult time getting himself out of that reoccurring turmoil right now as you smooth circles into the skin of his neck and scoot up to place a chaste peck on his kiss bitten lips. He chases pathetically after you for more, but you ignore it and shuffle out of his embrace, wrapping yourself in the throw blanket that was tossed on your bedroom floor. Eddie can’t help but scoff a bit. It’s not like he hasn’t seen every part of you already.

He leans up on his elbows and watches as you saunter to your closet as best as you can while tangled in the fabric. For a second, he thinks you’re going to get changed and ask him to leave. But he before he could dwell on it, he realizes he’s mistaken as you’re coming back to your bed with a sparkly pink gift in hand.

Your breath tickles his skin when you speaks. “A present.” Your words mumble together in laziness. “For you,” you add when you’re met with silence.

Eddie eyes the bag suspiciously and begins to open it when you lovingly pinch his bicep. He gently tears through the red and pink tissue paper stamped in white hearts, ignoring the uncomfortable weight in the pit of his stomach. A part of him dreads getting to the end of it, nerves aflame with anxiety. In the middle of it lies a painted guitar pick with a few bats threaded through a thin chain necklace and a custom mixtape with “happy valentine’s day” written in your handwriting.

Eddie falters, a sharp exhale jolting you off his shoulder.

Your voice cuts through the silence. “Do you like it?”

He doesn’t not like it. No, he fucking loves it. But it’s too much, too much for friends with benefits and too much for his fragile, self-sabotaging heart.

He forces himself not to look at you as he knows he won’t be able to stop himself from falling in love with you if he does. Instead, his eyes bore into the heart above the “i” on the mixtape, despising the way the moths in his tummy flutter alive at the sight of the small doodle. This is just you showing affection towards a friend, right? Eddie thinks you probably got Steve something similar. And even if you didn’t, even if your feelings for him aren’t just a figment of his imagination and you’ve poured your special affection into this one gift, he just can’t. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you or anyone for that matter.

“What is this?” He questions dumbly, wincing at the stern, whispered tone of his own voice.

He feels you trying to catch his eyes as you tilt your head towards him, but his gaze is strictly fixed on the mixtape. “I-I wanted to do something… something nice for Valentine’s day.” Your nervous stutters only worsen the tight feeling on Eddie’s throat.

He shakes his head, “That’s couple shit.” He works up the courage to look at you with a hardened gaze, and the sight nearly kills him. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, the ridges of your teeth bruising your skin maroon, while your brows are furrowed together in something that resembles hurt.

“Is that so wrong?”

It is wrong.

Eddie knows everything about this is wrong. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to play out. You’re only supposed to be fucking, not giving each other sentimental gifts that teeter on the edge of romance. He can’t have this, and he can’t have you because you deserve better. “I just wanted to do something for you.” He can tell by the slight tremble in your voice that you’re trying to keep your composure as best as you can.

“Well, you shouldn’t have. I don’t know what you think we are, but it’s not this.”

His words come out like venom, infiltrating your veins and piercing your heart. He watches your expression shift, hurt now laced into all of your pretty features. In the same way that Eddie masks his affection for you with cruel words, you’re quick to veil your pain with an anger that he knows he deserves.

“Fuck you, Eddie! You’re acting as if you haven’t treated me like your fucking girlfriend for months now.” You move away from him, letting the blanket drop off of you as you begin to dress.

He sighs harshly, eyes quickly darting away from your naked body. He can’t deny your point, but he also can’t let himself express what he truly feels. “That’s not what we agreed on when we started fucking around!”

You’re seething when you turn to look at him, now in a large hoodie and a pair of shorts. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I planned for any of this? You think I planned on liking you so bad that it hurts? I fucking didn’t. Things change, asshole! You certainly didn’t plan on liking me either!”

“I- I don’t-“ Before Eddie could spit out more words that he doesn’t mean, you walk to him, your body towering over his sitting frame and eyes squinted.

“Don’t start with that. Don’t try to deny it. You think I don’t recognize your little act? I know you like me, but you’re just self sabotaging because you think you don’t deserve anything, right? You aren’t worthy of happiness?”

Your words strike him hard like a wave of freezing water that crashes over him. He was a fool to think you wouldn’t see right through him.

You’re unstoppable as you continue to lash out at him. “Stop being so fucking mean to your self! When are you going to realize that you’re allowed to have nice things, that you don’t have to fuck everything up? Call me when you do, but until then, get out.”

It’s your words that snap Eddie out of his deranged state. You step back, giving him the space to walk out of your bedroom door and potentially never come back. But he stands up and follows you instead, his tall, lanky body now towering over you. He has to do something quick. He grabs your wrist as gently as he can possibly manage and tugs you toward him.

You watch him intently as he scans your face, trying to piece his words together in his scrambled mind.

He rubs a trembling hand down his face. “Fuck, I- I don’t know how to do this shit.” His heart feels like it’s pounding out of his chest. In some weird and twisted way, confessing his feelings for you is harder than hurting you. “I’ve never been good at feelings. I do shit like this to myself all the time, and I- I don’t know why.”

His eyes squeeze shut for a second, the sparks of light dancing behind his eyelids an odd comfort to his spinning mind. “B-But I do know that I like you a lot and…. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your eyes soften upon seeing the tears threatening to spill out of his own, the anger that they once held slowly draining. Nodding softly, you wrap your hand around his forearm. The warmth and pressure of your touch grounds and encourages him. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I like you so much, and I don’t want to lose you ‘cause I don’t know how to handle things like these. But, I want to learn with you. Just give me a chance, sweetheart, please.”

He follows your gaze as it roams down between your bodies, lips bitten in thought. A few tedious seconds of silence, you finally meet his eyes.

“Eddie,” you start slow. “I really fucking like you. I don’t want to lose you either. We can take it slow, and figure things out together. But, if you’re getting in your head about stuff, you have to tell me, yeah?”

He feels like he could cry out of the myriad of emotions he’s experienced. But mainly because he doesn’t understand how someone as charismatic and kind as you is giving him another chance. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry that wasn’t fair to you.,” he murmurs sincerely.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.”

He sighs, feeling as if the weight of the world has finally come off him and let him breathe. “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” you respond, arms coming around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug. He wonders if you can hear the way his heart swells for you. His eyes flutter closed as his own arms circle around your shoulders, comforted in the way you touch him.

“The mixtape looks sick and the necklace too. Thank you.” He mumbles into the top of your head, nose nuzzled in your hair. “Can we go on a drive and listen to it? Maybe go out to dinner after?”

You giggle against the corner of his lips. “Yeah, okay. But first-”

“What?” He asks, wide-eyed and ready to do whatever you want him to do.

“Put some pants on.”

thank u for reading! this goes out to my single chicks who love angst (me). please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed! i’d love to know your thoughts.

is your girlfriend single?

characters: atsumu, suna, bokuto

warnings: mentions of sex in suna's, timeskip!

note/s: i do not feel like writing a new piece rn so here's a lil repost from my old account

(ushijima, iwaizumi, sakusa)

atsumu: 

the setter was doing a livestream, he was bored and you were doing a grocery run, so he decided to tweet the hashtag #AskTsumu five minutes before going on live. 

once he started filming, he first greeted his viewers and thanked them for their support towards the previous games against the adlers. 

“right. let’s get started on the questions.” he says, placing the phone down and clasping his hands together. 

“‘is it true that you have a twin?’ no, i don’t. next question.” atsumu smirked as he scrolled past the comments only to see his twin’s angry spamming on how he should’ve eaten the blonde in the womb. 

“just kidding, yes. unfortunately, i have a twin brother, he’s currently opening up a restaurant in tokyo so go visit if you can.” atsumu endorsed. “‘wow, thanks. you’re actually useful for once.’ i take it back! don’t visit his restaurant, his food is shit. worst food ever, -10/10.” he joked, knowing that his fans and viewers would realize that it was sarcastic. 

“alright, time to check twitter for your questions.” he said as he took his laptop and pressed on the hashtag. 

“wow, okay. there’s a lot, i’ll try to answer as much as possible.” atsumu began answering the questions, it was mostly about his training routine, his hobbies and his relationship with his team. 

“how long have you and your girlfriend been together?” he smirked at the question before tilting his head to the side and shortly reminisced about your relationship. 

“we’ve been dating for.. four years now and i couldn’t be any luckier.” as if on cue, the door to your apartment opened and you trudged in with groceries. “wait a minute.” he said to the camera before running to where you were and helping you carry the groceries then dragging you to the camera’s view. 

“‘tsumu, i look terrible!” you say, trying to get away from the view but atsumu held your waist as he perched you to his lap. “nah, you don’t. ‘yer the prettiest.” he said before leaning forward, chin on top of your shoulder as he read more questions. 

“‘is that (y/n)?! she’s so pretty!’ ‘course she is. glad you seem to think so as well.” atsumu smirked. 

his live suddenly became a couple q&a. not that either of you were complaining. 

“atsumu, is your girlfriend single?” he reads before he could comprehend the message. he only realizes once you stifled your laugh. 

atsumu huffed before his big hand cupped your cheek to face him and he placed his lips onto yours for a few seconds. just enough to get the point through. 

“no, next question.” he winked, you slid off his lap as he laughed at the comment section which was now in an uproar. you knew you had to apologize to the team’s publicist as soon as possible.

suna:

suna was lounging on the couch as atsumu and komori interacted with their fans in their livestream. 

he was in the background, scrolling away on his phone as the setter and the libero chatted animatedly in front of the screen. 

“oi, suna! you should go and join us.” atsumu called out, looking behind him, the middle blocker gave a passive wave of the hand, eyes still on the phone. 

“‘ya guys see how mean he is? he doesn’t care about anyone unless they’re (y/n).” atsumu says before his eyes widen. “i should not have said that, huh?” the glare suna sent atsumu’s way made the setter cower in his seat. 

“always knew your loud mouth will get me into trouble.” suna sighed and left it at that.

“show us a pic...” motoya read out loud, suna’s head snapped up and before he could stop the two, atsumu has already pulled out his phone and began going through photos of you and the team. 

“this is suna’s girlfriend, sorry ladies and gents, mr. suna rintarou is off the market.” motoya laughed as he pointed to the picture on the phone screen. “anyway, this is (y/n). she’s really pretty and she has the entire volleyball team to go after you if you dare send her hate.” 

suna smirked and continued to scroll down his phone. 

“is suna’s girlfriend single?” motoya read outloud, atsumu stood up with the phone and placed it in front of suna’s face, effectively placing him in a hotseat. 

“so, sunarin.” atsumu starts. “is your girlfriend single?”

suna looked at atsumu with an unimpressed expression before facing the camera, looking straight at it.

“no, we had sex last night.” atsumu almost let go of the phone at how nonchalantly suna answered. 

“can you get the camera out of my face now?” suna asked, both of his teammates nodded. atsumu grumbled about how he was making the live as pg as possible but the middle blocker had to ruin it. 

once atsumu sat down, he made sure that the camera does not catch sight of the smug middle blocker before he states to the camera.

“we’re not entertaining any more questions about suna and (y/n).”

bokuto:

most of the fans knew that bokuto was a volleyball idiot. his actions and reflexes are quick yet when it comes to anything that wasn’t related to volleyball, he’d rather pass on the question. 

“ah, yeah. i’ve tried the hybrid on our spikers yet no one managed to receive it! bokkun was pouty the whole practice we had to call (y/n) to get him out of his slump.” atsumu recalled, earning a roll of eyes from sakusa and a lot of praise from hinata. 

“i was caught off guard!” bokuto tried to defend himself, earning a passive wave of the hand with a matching smirk from the setter. “sure, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, bokkun.” 

the live audience cooed at the team’s banter, finding it both endearing and entertaining. 

“i see. any more questions from the audience?” the host asked, the mic that was vacant was occupied by a fan who then asked what their drive for volleyball was.

it was the segment for general questions. then it would be time for personal questions per team member. 

the owl-spiker was excited but a bit nervous, he didn’t know what to expect but the smile on his face didn’t show any bit of unease. 

after a few minutes, the host turned to bokuto and gestured for him to sit in front, replacing hinata who had just finished answering his fans’ questions. 

“ah, bokuto-san! are you ready to answer?” the host asked for formalities, everyone knew that bokuto didn’t really have a choice. bokuto nods twice, a beaming smile on his face as he faced the audience. 

“alright! first question.” the host gestured for the first fan to occupy the microphone. 

“are your emo modes unintentional...” the questions went on, the spiker answered the next questions with ease, the past feeling of anxiousness dissipating as he noticed the line getting shorter. 

“hi, big fan! so my question for you is… is your girlfriend single?” the fan asked, causing a few gasps from the crowd. bokuto couldn’t see it, but the team was silently giggling at the question, anticipating whether bokuto would comprehend the question before he would answer. 

“what?” bokuto asked, wanting to hear the question again. he awkwardly laughed before he spoke once more. “of course she’s not! she’s my baby.” 

bokuto pouts before speaking again. “she’s my other half, my soulmate, my baby, my honeybear, my-” “alright, bokkun. we get it!” atsumu said, exasperated. 

“(y/n) is the love of my life and my girlfriend and it will stay that way until we see each other at the altar.” bokuto finalized, unknowingly smiling at the thought. 

the host cleared their throat, taking the stage away and wrapping the interview up. 

you were waiting backstage, watching with a warm face as bokuto talked about you. the backstage staff who was with you gave you knowing glances as the interview ended and bokuto was walking straight towards you. 

your boyfriend wrapped his arms tightly around you in greeting. “you know, that question could’ve been answered with a yes or no, kou.” you say as you pull away from the hug. 

“i needed to let them know that you’re mine!” bokuto stated childishly before pecking your forehead. 

yeah, you were his and didn’t plan on being anyone else’s. 

yeah so I’m thinking about best friend Eddie curling up behind you on his bed, fluffy blankets keeping you both cozy as he wraps an arm around you. He places a warm and strong hand underneath your tummy where your cramps rage, gliding back and forth, pressing and kneading into the spots that so badly need pressure. His lips graze your ear just as you start to drift off, and you think you hear him whisper a sweet confession before you’re pulled to sleep.

Jealousy: Kyotani (Mad Dog)

The bar was crowded—not uncomfortably, but just enough that the air pulsed with low music and the warm scent of whiskey and fryer oil. The lights were low, warm and golden, casting soft shadows over tables cluttered with drinks and peeling coaster edges. Glass clinked softly in the background, a lazy rhythm to the Friday night energy building in waves.

You were leaning against the bar, waiting for your drinks, while Kyōtani had ducked away to use the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it, eyes on the bartender shaking cocktails two seats down.

Which was, in hindsight, the exact moment the universe decided to test your patience.

“Hey there,” came a voice to your left—slurred, low, and too close. You caught the sour tang of beer on his breath before you saw his face.

You didn’t turn immediately. You’d felt it coming—like a storm you could smell in the air.

“I been watchin’ you from across the bar,” the man said, a lazy, drunken confidence in his voice. “You look like you could use some company.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose. “I’m good, thanks.”

He chuckled. “C’mon. Don’t be like that. I’ll buy you a drink, sweetheart.”

You turned your head, offering a cool, unimpressed stare. His eyes were glassy, cheeks blotched red from too much alcohol, and his grin was the kind of smarmy that made your skin crawl.

“You don’t wanna do that,” you said flatly.

The guy blinked. “What? Buy a pretty girl a drink?”

“No.” You shifted your weight, voice firm. “Hit on someone who’s taken.”

He raised a brow, like he thought you were bluffing. “Taken? Don’t see anyone here. You ditched him already?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You need to back off.”

But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Men like that never did.

Instead, he laughed—loudly, like he’d just heard the best joke of the night. “Relax, baby. You’re hot. I’m just tryin’ to show some appreciation.”

You turned back toward the bar, trying to signal the bartender, but the guy didn’t take the hint. You felt him step closer, invading your space. Then his hand brushed your arm—too familiar, too bold.

That was when you felt it.

The air shifted. Like the pressure dropped.

A presence behind you—heavy, hot, and unmistakable.

Kyōtani.

A shadow passed over the drunk guy’s face, but he didn’t turn fast enough.

Kyōtani didn’t speak. He didn’t posture. He didn’t warn.

He just swung.

A blur of movement exploded at your side—a crack, loud and sharp, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground. The guy lay sprawled across the scuffed floorboards, groaning, his hand cupping his jaw as shocked silence rippled through the nearby tables.

Kyōtani stood over him, jaw clenched, one hand still curled into a tight fist, his broad chest rising and falling as he stared down at the guy like he was debating whether to throw another punch for good measure.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.

You just looked down at the groaning man and said, with a shrug and a sip of your half-warm drink, “Told you so.”

Kyōtani turned to you, golden eyes burning with residual fury, scanning your face and arms like he needed confirmation you were untouched. “He touch you?”

“Barely,” you muttered. “He tried.”

Kyōtani grunted low in his throat, gaze snapping back to the guy on the ground. “You’re lucky I stopped at one.”

The bartender said nothing. No one did.

You grabbed your second drink off the bar, rolling your eyes. “Guess I need a new gin and tonic now.”

Kyōtani huffed, throwing a protective arm around your shoulder, steering you away from the scene. “Let’s go. I hate this place anyway.”

“You hate every place.”

“Not true,” he muttered, hand tightening at your waist. “I like the ones where people don’t talk to you.”

You laughed under your breath as the two of you disappeared into the cooler night air, Kyōtani’s hand never leaving you for a second.

And as you walked, he leaned in, voice low and unrepentant.

“Next guy that touches you,” he growled, “I’m breakin’ his ribs.”

You smirked, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I know.”