"𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂?!" W/jjk Men !!

early relationship with out of this world gorgeous man suguru and you're still stuttering when he stares at you longer than three seconds, yes you counted.

you still have no idea how you managed to garner his interest. him going from a small tiny crush to being your boyfriend? you had to pat yourself on the back.

so that's why you're extremely nervous and rambling about some lines in the movie you're currently watching with him, bodies tangled together. your hands are a little shaky, and maybe a little sweaty, from holding his and your heart is beating so loudly you pray he doesn't hear it.

as for suguru? he just stares at you no— admires you with a lazy grin. it's clear how nervous he makes you feel and he thinks it's endearing.

and as much as he's fond of listening to you rant about something completely irrelevant, he just couldn't help but steal a few glances at your lips. he knows you noticed too because your babbles were now a frenzy of stutters and the faint pink on your cheeks turn red, spreading through your face and all the way to your ears.

"so what happens after that was-" your words halt as you gulp and blink furiously, looking at anywhere but his face.

suguru only chuckles and shifts his body closer towards you "yeah? what happens after that?" he leans in teasingly.

"actually... i don't know" you smile to yourself, finding humour with it all and you turn, bravely too.

taking his chance, suguru closes the small distance separating you both and lands his lips onto your own. at first you freeze but then he feels you relax and melt into the kiss.

he slowly brings his hands to cup your cheeks, slowly caressing it as he gently tugs your lower lip with his teeth upon pulling away.

your forehead connects and suguru smiles fondly "you have no idea how long i waited for this" he practically purrs and your heart, for the hundredth time today, threatens to burst.

"me too" was all you could mutter out meekly.

suguru lets out a faint laugh "yeah?"

"yeah"

that was all the confirmation he needed when he leaned in to kiss you again, so much more passionate this time.

MATCHING — KEI TSUKISHIMA. gender neutral reader, fluff, no warnings.

i wrote this lowkey on a whim and realized such cute things while writing it. thank you furudate for making such fun characters to analyze. happy valentines!

though he wont admit it, kei tsukishima likes enjoying and understanding the same things as the people he cares about. though he’s grown to act all nonchalant, inside he’s an affectionate loser who actually cares a lot.

he only acts so distant to seem cool, (or cause he’s developed trust issues) but honestly all it takes is some time for him to really let loose around someone. pester him enough, and he might miss you.

“hey, look at this” he calls over to you, making you shift your gaze away from the stationary you were looking at. once fully turned, you see his hands holding onto two matching keychains.

you quirk an eyebrow, ready to tease. “keychains huh? you wanna match or something? it’d be cute, considering you have matching bags with yamaguchi… why not match something with me too?” you smile, talking as you get ahold of one of the keychains.

“sure” he replies flat. “and i know you like this animal so… i think that’s an extra point”

you blink, not even realizing that what he grabbed is in fact a cute keychain of your favorite animal. it’s furry and soft against your fingers, making you more endeared towards it. “damn, i didn’t even notice that. you actually remember?”

he scoffs, almost offended. “yeah? you think i wouldn’t? i’m your boyfriend”

you roll your eyes. “okay true… but i didn’t think information like this would matter that much. but i’m super flattered th—”

“if you don’t stop yapping i’m just gonna go buy these. find me when you’re done” he says before swiftly grabbing the keychain from your hand and walking to your opposite side.

you let out a yelp. “hey wait— what!? come back i never said you could pay for both of us!”

Weapon u3u.

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer— when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you’ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 

“What if I say please?” 

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

how the haikyu boys would react if you showed up to a game - after saying you wouldnt! °○~

contains : hinata, kageyama, daichi, tsukkishima, kuroo, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, oikawa, iwazumi, ushijima, tendou

warnings/tags : not all boys included ! suggestive themes in a few of them, but nothing descriptive!

note : just some of my fav cuties, if you want more pls throw it in the requests! i wrote half of this on mobile and half on my laptop, pls excuse any mistakes. i also had either none or alot of motivation for these, so eat up what you can out of this!

masterlist // requests are open

SHOYO HINATA :

he honestly forgot about the banter between you two, begging for you to come but then being shot down because of your studies. so when he stepped onto the court and began playing, he didn't pay any attention to it.

but in private, you felt too bad, so you attended. you cheered him on from the group of karasuno fans, a little louder than the rest. so when he turned his head and saw you, his face lit up, a big smile on his face before giving a small wave and turning back around.

by the end of the match, he met you outside, jumping at his full potential with hands on your shoulders, " you came!? but what about your homework? wait - did you see me during the second set!? " he blabbering on, before you just ruffled his hair and giggled.

" you should come to all my matches, it makes me play better " he mumbled as he pulled you into a tight hug while tanaka and noya gushed over young love.

" oi! hinata, let's go! " kageyama called, as they were getting ready for a team photo infront of the complex.

he dragged you along, jumping onto your shoulders just to be taller than kageyama in a photo.

---

TOBIO KAGEYAMA :

there was no point in asking you to come tonight, it was normal. but he did want you to see some new stuff he spent so much time working on. but of course, you turned him down due to working late at the onigiri shop downtown.

so as he put his uniform on, sliding his knee pads up and tying his shoes, he went about the match like normal. he actually never noticed tou watching in the stands, eyes flowing back and forth through his stealthy sets. that freak quick attack that he set up was always impressive. it made you wonder why you never saw matches before.

you caught him on his way out, bag slung over his shoulders and jacket zipped up. the bus was parked and waiting already, so you barely got to his hand. your fingers wrapped around his, and he almost smacked you before realizing it was you.

" yn? " he asked, tilting his head in confusion, " but - I thought you were working late tonight? " he muttered, fingers squeezing a little tighter when you smiled.

" well, thanks for coming. " was all he could muster up between the harsh heat in his cheeks. he burried his chin into the collar of his jacket, watching you reach up and plant a kiss onto his cheek before running back into the building.

yeah everyone sitting on the bus just saw kageyama fold for his girlfriend again.

---

DAICHI SAWAMURA :

he completely understood how important your studies were, and he seriously didn't mind you not coming to games. so when he kissed your head and jumped in the car, he expected to see you later after the match.

but he had no clue you spent the rest of the time getting all ready, dressing up and jumping into your car to race, and making the first set. you flooded the stands as it began, leaning against the barrier next to their manager, Yaichi.

daichi was too busy with slamming recieves back and forth. when he finally got steady with returning the great king, oikawa's, serves, the crowd cheered. so naturally, you did, too.

" nice recieve daich' ! " you called out, hands cupped by your mouth with a big smile.

his head whipped behind him to see you all bubbly and pratically shaking with excitement as you watched him play. all he could do was smile and wave before giving sugawara a nervous look.

by the end of the match, you were downstairs, watching the teams flood out. you patiently waited for your boyfriend, hands clasped in front of you as the rest of the teams said their hellos. when daichi laid his eyes on you, he belined, lifting you and spinning you.

" you said you weren't coming! don't do that! it made me nervous - " he laughed, reaching up and rubbing the back of his head.

" but - thanks for watching, means a lot to me, baby " was all he he said as he kissed your head and pulled you into a tight hug.

---

TSUKKISHIMA KEI :

he didn't care, he actually didn't want you coming. he didn't see the point, they'd probably lose. and of course being a grade freak he was not about to sit and do your homework with you till 2am, so yea get it done now.

but when you appeared with an extra water bottle right before he went on the court, he just furrowed his eyebrows. he looked around before smirking a bit.

" thanks " that's all he said before grabbing the bottle and taking a drink, " if you didn't finished your homework, you have no idea what I'd do " he groaned, piercing his lips together into a flat line.

" tsukki - it's fine! you know I love to watch you play! " you gushed, teetering on your heels and looking up at him with a plead, that he knew too well.

" I am not giving you a kiss right now " he mumbled, going to walk away

" but it's good luck! " you whined, chasing him almost to the court.

" will you shut up? everyone can hear you " he whispered, leaning down and pressing a peck to your lips before grumbling off to warm ups.

he made sure to always look for you in the crowd before the next play, your bright eyes and smile always widening when you two made eye contact. yeah, he secretly loved seeing you support him.

---

KUROO TETSURO :

" cmon, baby, it's just one match, can't you come? " he pleaded, waiting by the door.

you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to this match, you were too busy and had stuff to do at home. so you shook your head and sighed.

" sorry, testu, not tonight " and he frowned, but hugged you goodbye and as always, kissed both cheeks for good luck.

when you watched him leave, guilt ate away at your gut. so you checked the time, got as much stuff done, and then raced to the complex. his match had just started, and you were in his red jacket. so you blended in with the crowd of fans.

when they lined up at the end to thank the fans, you shot forward to the balcony and yelled out for him, " good job, tetsu! " giggling and waving as he looked up at you.

kenma also looked up, rolling his eyes when kuroo put his hands on his hips and cackled like a hyena, " told you she'd come kenma! " he patted the smaller boy on the back.

when you two met up, he crushed you, squeezing all the air from your body. " so you were busy, huh? " he teased, shoving you as he walked you out to your car.

he leaned against the top of your car with his arm, pressing down and capturing you in one more kiss. where he tried to make in to a full makeout session and fit into your drivers side.

" tetsuro! not now! " you yelped, shoving him out and scoffing.

" so later? I did win, yknow " he dragged out, and you rolled your eyes and shut the door.

---

KENMA KOZUME :

you barely made it to the third set, noticing kenma already being worn out and sweating buckets. you bit your lip anxiously, knowing kenma definitely didn't want you here. it made his anxiety skyrocket.

you stood hidden in the sea of fans, rushing out by the time it ended so he didn't see you. you watched him walk into the locker room, kuroo following close behind him with a proud smile.

you tried to creep your way silently, but kuroo seemed to notice you before kenma.

" ey! kenma look! " he redirected kenma from the door, to face you. you were wide eyed and smiling innocently.

" oh " he blinked, walking up to you, " when did you get here? " he asked, looking down at you with a blank expression as always.

" I just saw the last set - sorry I know you hate it when I come but - " you began, but kenma only stopped you by pulling you into a very awkward and sweaty hug.

you laughed and hugged back, of course. kuroo was already beckoning lev to come see this. once lev bursted out laughing, kenma let go, " sorry - they're just gonna be annoying " he muttered, shooting them a look.

" I know, kozu, you did great tonight " you nodded, trying to reassure him by rubbing soft circles into his palm.

" can you come to all my games from now on? "

---

KOUTARO BOKUTO :

every time was the same, bokuto trying to drag you out of your house to come to at least one match. you hated crowded areas, a sea of people watching a game of more sweaty people toss a ball around? yeah absolutely not.

but you knew it was important to him, so you always said 'next time', but there was never a next time. now bokuto was walking with you to the gym of fukarodani so the team can pack and leave.

" im sorry, kotarou, maybe next time? " you offered, holding his hands right before he walked in.

" you say that every timee! " he whined, but quickly gave up when he saw your frown.

" good luck out there, youre gonna do amazing " you kissed his hands before skipping away to the front of the building and driving home.. well, that was the plan

and somehow you found yourself driving 2 hours away to the complex, wearing an old jersey of bokuto's. you stepped out and scanned in with a wristband. the place was packed, fukarodani fans already setting up. so you sat and waited.

the match finally started, and akaashi was already fighting to keep bokuto out of emo mode. you teetered on the edge of your seat, clapping when they scored once more.

" lets go bokuto! " you couldnt help but give yourself away, and the look on his face was worth it all.

after that, bokuto scored point after point, taking both starting sets with ease. now akaashi was working on calming him down before they were kicked off the court. you were already on your way down to the court. when he saw you, he rushed off the court without a second though and into the crowd.

" you really came? hey! did you see that? all those were for you baby! " he shouted, taking you in his arms and jumping around, akaashi couldnt help but run after him and say his hello.

" akaashi! my beautiful girlfriend finally came! wait - why are you laughing? did you two set this up? HEY! " he began, hands on his hips and scowling.

---

KEIJI AKAASHI :

another night working late at the corner shop downtown, and man was it slow. you knew akaashi had a game tonight, and you were itching to go see it, but there was no way you could get off of work. so he made the effort to stop by right before leaving.

the door dinged open and before your started the whole 'welcome to l/ns' speech, your boyfriend already set your meal down on the counter. " hey you " he spoke, smiling slightly.

" keiji! but arent you leaving - what are you doing here? " you asked sadly, coming around the counter and hugging him.

he gently ran his fingers across your hair before pulling you back, " im sorry you cant see my game tonight, so i thought id bring you something " he offered, kissing your temple before letting you go completely.

the conversation continued, and he soon left. and your store was empty once again. you peaked into the back at your father, who was sleeping in a chair. you removed your apron quickly and bolted for the door, grabbing the bagged meal on your way out.

you hopped in your car and began directions to the complex, speeding almost half of the time there. you parked, squeezed your way through the people, and found your seat right as warmups began.

you watched the match, clapping and cheering as they took home the win. you said goodbye to some fellow classmates you found in the sea of fans, before rushing down the stairs. you got caught in cross traffic, and barely saw the team head into the locker room for warm down.

you waited patiently, noticing bokuto being the first to leave, " hey! bokuto! " you called out, rushing for him before he wandered from the door.

" ah! akaashis pretty ladyyy " he put his hands on his hips, " i thought you werent coming tonight? " he tilted his head, but the door opened after him.

" bokuto, did you say my - " akaashi was quickly cut off by the sight of you, swiftly scooping his arms under yours and pulling you into a crushing hug.

" i thought i heard you, but i figured i was hallucinating " he laughed, setting you down and holding your head to give you a large and dramatic kiss on the forehead.

" i wouldnt miss you for the world, keij " you giggled, noticing bokuto sulking.

" when is it my turn, akaashi!? " he cried out, trudging away

---

TORUU OIKAWA :

you seethed every time oikawa had a game, especially because his whole fangirl club would just shove you to the side to breathe his air. so when you told him you werent coming to anymore games, he quite literally got on his knees and begged for you to come to his final one, which was tonight.

" absolutely not, toruu! you barely even notice im there anyways! " you argued, crossing your arms and shaking your head.

" wha - no baby i promise! i will glue you to my side! ill shoo them away! " he pleaded, standing up and going to hold your arms.

" no, i have a bunch of homework to do anyways " you giggled, denying his words and looking up at him.

" finee " he sighed dramatically, gathering his things and waling for the front door with you following.

" good luck, okay? hey, i love you " you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before letting him walk out the door and to his match.

a few hours went by, and you got up and groaned, before ultimately driving to his game. you were in an extra jersey, dressing comfortably as you were going to be sitting the rest of the time anyways. you watched the match begin, noticing oikawa was first to serve. and his girls were going crazy.

it was like that for the rest of the time, screeching and drooling over the top balcony at your boyfriend. the game ended and you were now waiting outside near seijohs bus, anyone wouldve thought you were a creepy fangirl too.

when the team came out, and oikawa's eyes finally met yours, he took off running. he lifted you into the air and spun about a hundred times. " i knew you couldnt resisit me! did you see the whole thing? " he asked curiously, kissing all over your face.

a crowd of girls practically melted, tears quite literally rolling down their face at the sight of oikawa and another girl. but he paid no mind, only hugging and gushing over the fact you actually showed up.

" yes toru, i saw the entire thing " you reassured, nodding and giggling,

" oh just wait till i get home - " he muttered, before being slapped on the back by iwazumi.

" lets go shitty-kawa! " he yelled, getting onto the bus.

oikawa gave you one last kiss before waving off and sticking his tongue out. you shook your head and then noticed the stampede of girls that now chased after the bus.

---

HAJIME IWAZUMI :

oh this man was swooning over you, had a picture of you in every crack and crevice of his room or car. he even kept one in this pocket of his shorts during practice. so obviously when you said a family emergency came up, and you cant make it to his game, he was crushed.

" go home and make sure everythings okay, love " he said, kissing your head before seijoh loaded the busses for the tournament. despite him obviously loving when youre there, he understood this was important.

when you got home, a few hours of dealing with whatever had finally passed. you noticed, there was only an hour till seijohs warm ups began. so of course you ran for the car, ripping out of your driveway and speeding down the express ways to make it in time.

you filed into the crowd about halfway through the first set, that seijoh was obviously going to win. the vibes were up and good, oikawa fangirls fawning and falling. you just didnt understand, when your better looking love of your life, hajime iwazumi, was standing right there. well, youd kill anyone who came close to being a fangirl of him.

seijoh took the first set, and the second one, now advancing to the next round. you were over the moon excited, bouncing down each step to find iwa. you managed to tag onto the back of the train of players as they walked, making conversation with maki.

you noticed iwa and oikawa making conversation right outside of the warm down room, and you bolted. you stood behind iwazumi, putting a finger over your lips as oikawa giggled.

" oh it looks like a iwa-chan fan girl does exist! " he chimed, tapping his chin while iwa hummed.

he turned around and his face instantly flushed, lips sputtering out noncoherent words. " wait - yn? what are you doing here? " he asked, shaking his head to clear any confusion.

" well - i broke a few laws just to see you " you laughed, yelping when oikawa shoved iwazumi into you, laughing

" atleast hug your lady! " oikawa gasped, hand on his hip as he tried to escape a running crowd after him.

iwa held you close, head over top of yours, " you did all that for me? " he asked quietly, face hot with embaressment.

" of course i did, iwa! you think id leave you alone with him - " you went to pull away and point, but noticed the stampede oikawa was trampled by.

you and iwa only giggled together, before he looked down at you with the utmost sincere eyes, " thank you. truly, thank you " he muttered, kissing the top of your head while holding your hands.

---

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI :

you didnt even see ushiwaka before he left, he only sent a simple text. 'leaving now, love you' was all he said, you couldnt tell if he was upset about you missing this match, youve been pretty busy, so maybe hed understand.

as much as tendou tried to poke him, he only put in headphones and stared out the window for the entire bus ride. he tried to collect himself before going off and playing for one of the most important tournaments in his entire highschool career - and you werent going to be there.

you sighed and tapped your foot anxiously against your floor, trying to decide if you should really risk skipping all your piled school work to see him. but of course you chose the latter. you threw on one of his academy volleyball hoodies and began the drive.

of course you buckled, and barely sped up. all because of ushijimas extreme car safety thing he had for you. there was a little sticky note reminding you to buckle, and a photo of you two covering anything thing on the right side of the speedometer. and when you flipped your visor down, there was a sticky note next to the mirror that read, 'stop looking in mirrors. you know youre pretty'

you parked pretty shitty, running in and tripping over a few steps as you caught the last glimpse of the second set. ushijima absolutely slamming the last point into the ground. the crowd went wild for them, of course, it was shiratorizawa. everyone needed to see your hunk of a boyfriend that was the best spiker in the prefecture.

you watched him walk off the court, not paying attention to any of the harsh celebration dont by goshiki and tendou. he wiped his forehead, before lining up to shake hands. when the team came to thank to fans, he finally saw you.

you watched every muscle tighten up, and his stoic face falter for a moment. tendou nudged him a bit, before laughing as they walked away. you walked down the stairs carefully, trying not to trip again or you wouldnt hear the end of it from ushijima.

" yn. " he said broodingly, already halfway up to stairs to find you first.

" wakatoshi! " you beamed, trying to rush down to him, but he caught you first, demolishing you into this bear of a hug. " ushi - ! - cant breathe! " you squeaked out, and he let go.

" thank you for making it " he said quietly, blinking down at you, and for a moment, he actually smiled with his teeth.

---

SATORI TENDOU :

he was ecstatic for his game tonight, knowing it was against some no name school that they would beat in 30 minutes. but he was quickly shot down when he heard you say the words 'i cant make it tonight'. so he sulked and sighed.

" yn.. are you sure youre really reallyyyy busy? " he asked, putting his head down on your shoulder as you ate your lunch.

" yes, im sorry tendou " you chewed out, blinking over at him and giving him an apologetic smile.

" hm " was all he peeped out before sitting down in the desk ahead of you, backwards so he could see your face.

he drew meaningless shapes into the desk, huffing and sighing as you packed up your lunch box. the bell rang and you said your goodbye, not seeing him for the rest of the school day. you made sure to send him a big and happy good luck text, hopeful that it would bring his spirits up a bit.

when you went home, you immediately stared on your chores. you picked up around the house, your room, and helped cook, all while reading through your homework assignment. you tried your best to get it done in time to catch the game.

luckily you didnt live far from the stadium, so you arrived just in time for the match to begin. and as tendou expected, they beat the opponents in a whopping 43 minutes. he was giggling with goshiki, and practically jumping over ushijimas head while celebrating.

you stood in the hallway, squinting around and trying to peer over the crowd. you noticed a white and purple jersey, with the most noticeable red hair upon anyone, walking next to the broad wakatoshi.

" satori! " you bellowed out, trying to wave and get his attention but he was on a one track mind.

well, he was, but ushijima turned his head and nodded at you, before tapping tendous shoulder and pointing right in your direction. you waved happily, trying to get him to notice you actually came. and you swore the room just got brighter.

he smiled and laughed, running up to you and pulling your body into a hug. " so you caved? how was i? " he giggled, his cat like face peering down at yours with triumph.

" you all played very well, satori. " you spoke, kissing the corner of his lip and smiling.

" i have the best girlfriend ever " he announced, squeezing you until you coughed one too many times. " see, i told you she'd come, wakatoshi! " he chimed, grabbing around your shoulders to keep you by his side.

ushijima just grunted, looking around before looking down at you. you backed away slightly, smiling nervously all while tendou giggled once more.

“I’m expecting great things from you”

Hey so I really like your writing. Your fics are so inspiring...! Can I pretty please request a fic about Kita catching Reader off guard with a blunt love confession?? 🙏 I'd love to see what you come up with!

Aw inspiring?!! That is so sweet!! I love that I am what people were for me when I started writing (about 5 years ago!) so never give up and be proud of any work you make!! I hope you enjoy <333

--

Confessions: Kita

The thing about Kita Shinsuke is that he never does anything without purpose.

He speaks with intention, moves with care, and rarely—if ever—lets emotion get the better of him. He is dependable to a fault, calm even in the most chaotic situations, and as predictable as a rising sun. Which is why, when he turns to you one spring afternoon and says, "I’m in love with you," you nearly choke on your drink.

The two of you are sitting beneath the shade of a wide camphor tree near the back of the school, where the grass grows a little taller and the breeze feels like a secret only you two share. The breeze is soft, the air warm and sweet with the scent of new blossoms. You’d come out here to eat lunch together—something that had become a quiet ritual between you and Kita. No crowds, no noise. Just the two of you, sharing space, swapping stories, occasionally falling into long stretches of silence that never felt awkward. He always brings homemade bento boxes, neatly packed, and you bring snacks or something small to share.

You blink at him, unsure if you heard right. "Sorry—what?"

Kita is still looking at you, expression as steady and unreadable as ever. He’s holding a rice ball in one hand, his bento sitting neatly in his lap. "I said I’m in love with you."

There’s no hesitation. No blush. Just the plain delivery of truth—as if he’s pointing out the weather, or commenting on the quality of the rice today.

You nearly drop the bottle of tea in your hand. "Kita," you breathe, searching his face for a trace of humor or a tell that he’s messing with you. But he’s not. Of course he’s not.

Your heart stutters. "You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere, you know."

He tilts his head slightly. "Why not?"

"Because—" You flail for a second, grasping for something clever to say, something to make sense of the heat rising to your cheeks. "Because it’s—surprising."

Kita hums, thoughtfully chewing. "I didn’t think it would be. We spend time together. You bring me pickled plums even when I don’t ask. You save the last piece of tamagoyaki for me, even though it’s your favorite. You walk me to the gate every day, even when you’re running late. I thought maybe you felt the same."

You sputter, caught between the instinct to deny and the overwhelming realization that he’s right. You do all those things, and more. You always look for him in a crowded room. You always listen when he speaks, no matter how quiet his voice. You think about him in between classes, after practice, before bed. He’s right.

He continues, voice soft but sure. "You don’t have to say anything right now. I just thought it was time I told you."

And with that, he turns his gaze back to the tree branches swaying above you, like he didn’t just tilt your entire world on its axis. He takes another bite of his rice ball, completely composed, like he hadn’t just carved a confession into the air and left it hanging between you.

You sit in stunned silence for a moment longer, the breeze tugging gently at your sleeves. Everything feels quieter now. The breeze, the rustling branches, the distant sound of other students laughing in the courtyard—it all fades into a soft, blurred background. Your fingers tighten slightly around the tea bottle in your lap.

You steal a glance at him. He’s not looking at you. He’s perfectly calm, patient, and somehow that makes your chest ache more than if he’d confessed with nervous laughter or flushed cheeks. There’s no doubt, no need for reassurance. He meant it.

You reach over, plucking a stray leaf from his shoulder. You don’t know why—it just gives your hands something to do.

"You’re unbelievable," you mutter, shaking your head.

He glances at you, eyes curious but unbothered. "Is that a good thing?"

You let out a soft laugh, one that feels lighter than it should considering your heart is still racing in your chest. "I don’t even know. You really just said that like you were telling me we had PE next period."

He shrugs. "I meant it. I don’t think it needs to be complicated."

And you know he’s right again. Kita doesn’t dress things up. He doesn’t make things harder than they need to be. He doesn’t hide behind games or fear or doubt. He just is.

You look down at your lunch, your appetite forgotten. You can’t stop thinking about the things he said. The way he noticed your little habits. The way he didn’t need you to answer right away. The way he didn’t waver.

When you finally meet his eyes again, there’s a warmth blooming in your chest—slow and full, like sunlight rising through clouds.

"I’m in love with you too, you idiot," you say, and your voice is so quiet, so soft, that you almost expect him to miss it.

But he doesn’t.

Kita Shinsuke turns to you fully then, and for the first time all afternoon, he smiles.

Really, truly smiles.

And just like everything else he does, it’s quiet, intentional, and completely disarming.

He reaches for your hand—not suddenly, not dramatically, but gently, deliberately—and your fingers lace together like they were always meant to. You sit that way for a long time, the afternoon stretching endlessly before you, the breeze curling around your ankles, the scent of spring growing thicker with each passing minute.

Neither of you says much after that. You don’t need to.

Some things are better left to the quiet.

And Kita, as always, knows exactly what silence means.

“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.

it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.

“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.

“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”

you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.

you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.

like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.

“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”

kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”

or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.

“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”

your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.

yeah, you totally did that.

or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.

“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”

tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”

you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.

“...huh?”

“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.

“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”

“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”

BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”

@kokokoula this one’s for u <3

You hold mr crawling’s face in your hands, caressing his cheeks as you watched him chirp and purr as he melted into your touch as he puts his hand atop of yours, keeping you where he needed you most.

‘I will kill for you I hope you know that.’ You said all of a sudden and mr crawling stopped to look at you with an adorable frown on his lips.

‘Kill for me?’ Crawling asked in his unique way.

‘Yes. You keep safe.’ You replied in an attempt to communicate in the only way he could understand. ‘Must have you safe.’ You add and mr crawling smiled widely as he patted your hands in excitement while letting out a laugh.

‘You keep safe.’ Mr crawling then said as he moved to cuddle himself up to your chest, listening to your heartbeat. ‘Keep this safe.’ He adds as he nuzzles his head against your chest and you couldn’t help but bundle him in your arms and kiss his head multiple times, breathing in your own shampoo and conditioner lingering in his hair.

‘We keep safe.’ You muttered to him as you run your hand up and down his back, feeling him tighten his grip on your waist as he made himself comfortable atop of you for a man of his tall stature. ‘Keep safe.’ Mr crawling murmurs softly against you as a calm befell you both as you enjoyed each others company, safe under some layers of soft blankets and soft kisses planted on the others skin in praise and appreciation for one another; Such simple pleasures are the ones you treasure the most.