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One door closes, another one opens - Kinoshita Hisashi x reader
Kinoshita is described as the main pillar of Karasuno's cheering squad - so here comes my ode to this sweet bean!
You’re in the middle of scrubbing the bottom of your largest pot when the door clicks shut.
You turn immediately, just in time to catch Hisashi poking his face around the corner.
He’s still wearing his new uniform and ever since you’ve told him that he looks smoking hot in it he’s gotten a little shy when wearing it around the house.
“Come on,” you tell him, voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t hide.”
“It’s your fault!” He whispers back. “You’re making me feel self-conscious.”
“I’ve seen you naked!” You remind him and his face erupts in pretty shades of pink and red as he groans.
Just two months ago the train company redesigned its uniforms. Hisashi has been suffering ever since.
-
You close the door as quietly as you can. But Hisashi still wakes, blinking up at you with bleary eyes.
“You need to rest,” you remind him as sternly as you can. He looks like he’s gotten hit by a bus and you doubt the cup of soup in your hands will do much help.
“I’m so sorry,” he whines, “I didn’t know the oysters weren’t fresh.”
“You couldn’t know,” you try to soothe him but he’s inconsolable. You take a seat next to him, pulling his head into your lap. His hair is soft beneath your fingertips.
“Worst honeymoon you’ve ever been on,” he groans miserably.
You can’t help but snort.
“Only honeymoon I’ve ever been on.”
“So far.”
Now you’re laughing, can’t help it. “Are you already divorcing me, ‘sashi? Over diarrhea?”
“I wanted this to be special.”
“And it will be. You just need to rest first.”
-
The door is wide open. You lean against the doorframe, exhaustion leaving you a little slumped.
“You’re disgusting,” Hisashi singsongs, face scrunched up at the smell, “Are you really related to me?”
“Well, I do remember our honeymoon-” You interject, only to watch him swivel around with a look of betrayal on his face. “Babe!” He moans, “Not in front of Atsuko!”
You giggle. Your daughter gurgles, possibly trying to recreate the sound. Or she’s preparing for the new diaper, who knows?
As soon as she’s clean, her chubby little feet thrashing around, he lifts her up and brings her over.
“Stinky,” Hisashi calls Atsuko affectionately, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. “Like your mom.”
-
The door slams shut. You flinch.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Hisashi slips out of his coat, water dripping. “It’s madness out there.”
You rush to his side, hugging him despite the wetness now seeping into your own clothes.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” you whisper into his neck as you hug him tight, “You shouldn’t drive when the weather’s like this.”
“Couldn’t stay away either,” he argues softly, “Did Atsuko fall asleep?”
“Barely,” you start but break off when thunder roars outside. You shiver at the sound. When it subsides, your ears pick up a low whimper.
“Atsuko-” Hisashi nods, is at the doors in seconds. You follow him down the hallway.
“Hey Baby,” he slips into his daughter's room, “Daddy’s here.”
It’s not surprising that Atsuko falls asleep in his arms. There’s no safer place in this world.
Not for you, not for her.
-
A knock on the door alerts you.
You put your book away and shuffle over, peaking through the door viewer. Narita’s grinning back at you.
“Hey?” You open the door, surprised to see your husband missing, “Where’s Hisashi?”
“He fell asleep in the car. Can you help me get him up?”
“Sure,” you slip your shoes on, “How much did he drink?”
“Not that much. But I guess he’s been a bit more tired this past week?”
“He did pick up a few extra shifts,” you agree, not yet ready to reveal the reason for them, “How’s Kame and the dogs?”
“Kame’s great,” Narita grins, “And the dogs are rowdy as ever. We’re thinking about adopting a third one. Or a cat. But we haven’t decided yet.”
“Adopting a cat will make you Atsuko’s favorite Uncle,” you tease, stopping at Narita’s car. Hisashi is snoring on the passenger seat, head snuggled against the seatbelt. You open the door and lean close, nudge his nose with yours. “Baby, wake up.”
He groans but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Atsuko’s crying,” you tell him, “There’s a monster under her bed.”
His eyes flicker open. “Wha-?” He asks, voice rough with sleep.
“Come on,” you unlock the seatbelt and pull him into you, “Let’s go up and get to bed.”
“Hm,” he leans into you, too heavy to hold him on your own, but Narita’s already at your side.
“What about Atsuko?” Hisashi’s words are more slurred than spoken, but his worry is audible.
“You want to check in on her first?”
He nods and you roll your eyes affectionately as if you didn’t know him already.
-
“Why is mommy throwing up?” Atsuko asks, her voice muffled through the bathroom door.
“That’s what happens sometimes when you’re pregnant,” Hisashi explains, “Your little brother or sister is making her body all confused. Do you want to make tea? That helps.”
“Yeah,” she crows and you can hear the pitter-patter of her feat when the door opens.
“Babe?” Hisashi’s leaning in. From where you’re hugging the toilet you can see the cardigan he’s wearing and the disheveled state of his hair. “Do you want me to go and get medicine? Or come in and rub your back?”
“Can you tell me a story?” You ask, exhausted from the morning sickness. It wasn’t nearly that bad with Atsuko.
“Course, what story do you want to hear?”
“Something about Karasuno,” you close your eyes, hoping to ward off the next wave of nausea. “I like those stories.”
He clears his throat and for a moment there’s only silence filling the room.
“In my second year, I got to play against Inarizaki in the nationals… I got sent in a few times, I mean, I was just a pinch server, but I was hoping… I was hoping to get a moment… of being heroic, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“And I didn’t. And I felt… like I was being left behind. Like I was the only one being less than average.”
Silence fills the air. It’s heavy, but not sad. Vulnerable, but not defeated.
“I don’t think I was a great Pinch Sever. I wasn’t bad, but I think they could have done without me on court just as well. I liked being part of the cheering squad. To trust in my teammates, to make sure they knew I believed in them. I liked that a lot.”
“You’re my cheering squad.”
Hisashi laughs.
“You’re my cheering squad,” he argues.
“Maybe we’re each other’s cheering squad,” you find a compromise. The pitter-patter returns.
“I made you tea, Mommy!” Atsuko exclaims and squeezes her small body through the gap in the door. You smile at her eagerness to help and to care. You know where she got that from.
⊹˚.⋆ riddle rosehearts x male reader | he/him pronouns, amab physicality ,,
“Seven Minutes in Heaven. All that I need when I get with him.”
Riddle Rosehearts has never indulged in any of his desires.
After playing a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven with the dangerously charming Ramshackle Prefect, Riddle isn’t sure he can control himself any longer.
⊹˚.⋆ warnings: makeout session, dry humping, boners, teasing, etc, mentions of riddles mommy issues, little bit of corruption kink ,,
w.c. approx 2k
one -> two … to be continued
Riddle Rosehearts was never one for parties.
Hell, he wasn’t even allowed a TV growing up. His routine was mundane, stable, predictable. Everything a party was not.
Study, study, study, sleep, study again. His mother had always been strict on what pleasures Riddle was allowed to indulge in. No games, no fun, nothing.
Unbirthday parties were one thing. A thing he could control. They lived by rules, structure, and he was the dictator. But at a wild party like this, hosted by Kalim to celebrate… Riddle couldn’t even remember what the party was for, everything was out of his control.
Cater and Trey sat beside him with confidence smiles, talking to the others in the circle with an ease Riddle envied. People didn’t talk to him. They were too scared.
He sat straight as he observed the crowd. A circle had formed— for what reason was unbeknownst to him as Cater and Trey had just plopped him down. He saw familiar faces like Ace and Deuce huddled beside you.
The three of you were laughing carelessly. Your head was thrown back as you laughed at something Ace said. You were clearly a little tipsy, which Riddle noted with displeasure.
Yet, he couldn’t stop watching you. The way your lips curled into a genuine smile, your eyes crinkling in the corners, your head thrown back in bout of laughter. It was a magnetic sight.
Ace’s eyes flickered towards Riddle, a smirk growing onto his face before he leaned over to you, whispering something in your ear. Immediately, your eyes flickered towards Riddle across the circle, and your grin turned mischievous. Riddle felt a surge of annoyance at being caught, quickly looking away, focusing on the strange stain in the carpet before him.
But the damage was done. He had been caught. You were still looking at him, he could feel it like lasers pointed straight at him or a persistent itch he couldn’t scratch. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, a sentiment he played off as a side effect of the heat of the party.
Body heat, surely. Nothing else, especially not you.
He adjusted his tie, a familiar, grounding motion in the unfamiliar chaos of the party. As he fixed his tie, he had failed to notice the beer bottle being placed in the center of the circle. Whistles started to sound out from the circle, capturing his attention.
His eyes shot wide. This was not what he had signed up for. He glanced over at Trey and Cater who shared easygoing smirks. They were enjoying this too much.
“What is this?!” Riddle’s sharp voice cut out through the chatter, but it fell on deaf ears as the thrum of the bass and excited giggles. The bottle was already spinning, a dizzying green blur in the dim light. It slowed, wobbling, a drama queen taking its final bow.
It pointed right at him.
A wave of heat washed over him, prickling at the back of his neck. He was on display, the eyes of everyone else focused on him with eager attention to see his reaction. The stern housewarden allowing himself to be soiled? It was peak comedy. His mouth fell open, “This is an inappropriate use of—“
Before he could finish his sentence, Cater had grabbed him by the shoulders. “Seven Minutes in Heaven!” His sing-song voice announced, cutting him off.
The name itself sounded like a threat, shocking Riddle to his core. He had heard whispers of the game, of closeted encounters and stolen kisses, but he had always filed it away with other frivolous, rule breaking activities. It wasn’t for him. It was for the likes of people like Ace. And for you.
Ace’s triumphant whoop echoed Riddle’s internal scream. You were laughing, but there was a new edge to it than before. A glint in your eye that said, “oh, this is going to be fun.”
“Who spun it?” Cater asked, scanning the circle of faces. Your hand was still resting on the bottle. A devious smirk was placed upon your face as you gave the bottle a final, decisive tap in Riddle’s direction.
“I believe I did,” you said, your voice smooth as honey, carrying across the circle with impossible clarity. You rose to your feet, brushing off the imaginary dust off your jeans. “Well, Rosehearts, your chariot awaits.” You gestured with a flourish towards a nearby closet door, a dark, menacing rectangle in the wall.
His world narrowed to that very door. To your expectant face. To the sea of awaiting, grinning faces. There was no escape from this humiliation.
The collar of his shirt suddenly felt too tight, strangling him. He stood up, his movements so stiff they almost looked robotic. He could feel the watchful eyes of his peers as they followed him towards the closet door. He could feel their judgment and their amusement at his predicament. The rule-freak in the closet, how funny. His chest heaved in embarrassment.
It was a punishment for a crime he hadn’t even committed. He was just trying to follow the rules. Like his mother always told him to.
He walked towards you, each step a monumental effort. You held the door open for him, a playful smile still dancing on your lips. As he brushed past you to enter the cramped darkness, he caught a whiff of your scent— something warm and sweet, like vanilla and moonlight. It was disorienting.
The door clicked shut behind him, plunging the small space into absolute blackness. The sound of the party was muffled, a distant, rhythmic thrum. He could hear your breathing, soft and even, right beside him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body. This was closer to another person than he had been in… perhaps ever. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.
Your body was so close as you towered over him. Your fingers played with a stray strand of red hair, “So, you’ve ever kissed anyone before?” you asked into the dark, your voice a low murmur that vibrated through the stifling air. The question hung between you, bold and unapologetic.
Riddle flinched as if struck. His mother’s voice, a ghost from the past, echoed in the sudden, suffocating silence.
“Decent boys don't indulge in such vulgarities.”
His face was on fire. He opened his mouth, ready to recite a rule, a regulation, anything to put this moment back in its proper box. But the words wouldn't come. They were tangled up with the feeling of your fingers near his scalp, the scent that was uniquely you, the sheer, terrifying intimacy of the dark.
He shook his head, a jerky, minimal motion. Then, remembering you probably couldn't see him, he choked out a single, strangled word. “No.”
A soft chuckle from your direction. Not mocking. Something else. Something warmer. “Good.”
And then you were kissing him.
Your lips were soft, impossibly soft, and they moved against his with a gentle, insistent pressure that sent a jolt straight through him. It was nothing like the chaste, formal pecks on the cheek he’d received from his mother. This was… alive. Wet, warm, and demanding a response he didn't know how to give.
His hands hung useless at his sides, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. His brain, usually so neat and orderly, was a blizzard of static. Rule 437: No fraternization with… with… what was the rule? There was no rule for this. There was no precedent. It was just as it was. Just… you.
You deepened the kiss, a soft sigh escaping you as one of your hands came up to cup the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. The touch was electric. It anchored him to the moment, to you. His body, betraying his mind, began to relax. The tension in his shoulders eased. His unclenched one fist, his fingers uncurling slowly.
Hesitantly, experimentally, he kissed back. It was clumsy, awkward, all wrong angles and too much teeth. But you didn’t seem to mind. You just tilted your head, guiding him, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips. A gasp escaped him, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, exploring his mouth with a confidence that left him breathless. He tried to reciprocate your actions, but it was all wrong.
Adorably wrong.
“Don’t suck on my tongue so hard,” you murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak. Your breath was warm, smelling faintly of the soda you’d been drinking. Your thumb stroked the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Relax.”
Relax. As if it were that simple. As if his entire life hadn't been a masterclass in tension.
But something in your tone, in the gentle, patient way you were guiding him, made him want to try. He tried to copy your movements, to match your rhythm. His hands, finally, found a place to rest—one on your waist, the other hovering awkwardly near your shoulder. The fabric of your shirt was soft under his fingertips.
The kiss became a conversation. A silent language he was just beginning to learn. You taught him with your lips and your tongue, with the way your body pressed against his. It was overwhelming, a sensory overload.
The darkness was no longer suffocating; it was a cocoon. A private world where the rules didn't apply. Here, there was only the thumping of his own heart, the taste of you, and the slow, deliberate exploration of a pleasure he never knew existed.
He was so lost in it, so consumed by the sensation, that he didn't register the bulge in your pants, slowly starting to rub against him.
A muffled groan rumbled in your chest. The kiss became hungrier, more desperate. Your hips rolled against him, a slow, deliberate friction that sent a bolt of pure, unadulterated heat straight to his groin.
His entire body went rigid again, but for a completely different reason. This wasn't just kissing. This was… more. This was the kind of vulgar, wanton behavior his mother had warned him about in hushed, scandalized tones.
And god, it felt good.
A strangled noise escaped him, half-gasp, half-moan. He felt dizzy, drunk on a sensation he couldn't name. His fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you closer even as a part of his brain screamed at him to stop. Rule 263: Maintain a respectable distance from… The rule dissolved into a haze of pleasure as you did it again, harder this time.
He was hard. So hard it was almost painful, confined in the stiff fabric of his uniform trousers. A wave of shame washed over him, hot and swift, but it was instantly drowned out by another, more powerful wave of need. He ground himself back against you, a clumsy, needy movement that was pure instinct. Your response was a low chuckle, a vibration that he felt more than heard.
“You’re a quick study, Rosehearts,” you breathed against his jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck.
You found a spot just below his ear that made him shudder, a jolt of electricity that arced through his entire body. He tilted his head back, giving you better access, a silent plea for more.
He was melting. The carefully constructed walls of Riddle Rosehearts, Prefect of Heartslabyul, were crumbling into dust. He was just a boy, in a dark closet, with a person who was making him feel things he’d only ever read about in forbidden medical textbooks.
And then, light.
A blinding slice of it cut through the darkness as the door swung open.
“TIME’S UP!” Ace’s obnoxious, triumphant voice shattered the cocoon.
Riddle jumped back as if he’d been electrocuted. He stumbled, knocking into a rack of coats. The sudden brightness was painful, the cacophony of party noise a physical assault.
He stared at you, wide-eyed and breathless. Your lips were swollen and glossy, your hair messy, a triumphant, knowing smirk plastered on your face. He could see the prominent bulge in your jeans, a blatant evidence of what they had just been doing.
“Over so soon,” you pouted sarcastically before leaning closer to Riddle, smoothing his mused hair down with an affectionate gesture. “Maybe next time,” you whispered, a promise that sent a fresh wave of terror and anticipation through him.
You walked out of the closet with an easy confidence, leaving Riddle to stagger out after you, his face burning with a humiliation so profound he thought he might combust. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes. He could feel them on him, though. He could hear the snickers, the wolf whistles. He saw Ace give you a triumphant high-five.
He didn’t remember the walk back to his dorm room. He just knew that one moment he was the center of a humiliating spectacle, and the next he was slamming the door to his room, leaning against it as he tried to get his breathing under control.
His body was still humming. His lips still felt the ghost of yours. The scent of you— vanilla and moonlight— seemed to have permanently embedded itself in his uniform.
He looked at himself in the mirror. The reflection was a stranger. His hair was a mess. His face was flushed. His lips were red and swollen. And he was still painfully, shamefully aroused.
You had ruined him. In seven minutes.
⊹˚.⋆ notes ,, : part one of my riddle mini series :) I hope u guys enjoy!! I am so excited to share this on here (already on my ao3 lol) reblog, comment, etc! OH AND IM TAKING TWST REQUESTS!! any characters any suggestions from sfw to nsfw, angst to fluff! male and gn readers only :p
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Boyfriend!Toby who loves waking up next to you everyday and smell you, touch you, kiss you. If he doesn’t get any of that from you, he starts acting like a scolded toddler who got refused candy. He will hold a grudge all day and lash out at anyone who dares talk to him and even threaten them until you calm him down with a kiss. He instantly melts at his angel’s touch! And yes, Toby actually thinks you’re some sort of angel who has come to save him from losing himself completely.
He’s such a good boyfriend, he does everything for you! You don’t even have to ask sometimes! So what if you treat him like a dog, he likes it! It’s normal in a relationship between two people :( Its a sign of true love!! He knows you’ll never leave him anyway, it’s not like you can. He won’t allow it, you were meant to be after all :P
He doesn’t mind being anything for you, he’s a good boy.
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When asked how they feel about you, how do they respond?
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|| GN! Reader ||
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Characters Featured: Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Durin, Kaeya, and Kaveh
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(Part 2 probably coming soon)
About Y/n
"Y/n? They're a competent worker, makes good coffee, and isn't the most annoying researcher I've met. So I suppose I don't mind them too much."
About Y/n: Coffee Preferences
"Y/n knows how I like my coffee. They haven't gotten it wrong once... Have I made coffee for them? No... should I?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"............You're imagining things."
About Y/n
"I find Y/n to be quite lovely. They provide a moment of rest in my busy day, I couldn't be more thankful for their presence in my life."
About Y/n: Duties
"Y/n helps me out with many things around the estate. They work so hard; I wish I could convince them to take more breaks. They tell me I worry too much, but... do I?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"Ah... ahaha. What a curious thing to say. I have no idea what you mean. You do have other things to do now, don't you? You ought to take care of your own business before nosing into mine."
About Y/n
"Y/n is rather kind and has a good head on their shoulders, most like them for that alone, but I admire their strength as well. They play Genius Invokation TCG with me as well, even if I never let them win."
About Y/n: Frequent Visits
"Isn't it my job as the General Mahamatra to check in on researchers? I doubt Y/n would do anything dangerous, but they've had a few research partners trying to push the envelope a little too much. I'm just checking in on them... and of course I do this with other researchers... It'd be irresponsible not to..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"...No clue what you're refering to."
About Y/n
"Y/n is one of those few people who can get along with anyone. They're just easy to get along with. I find myself relying on that skill of theirs for intel and general information gathering. They're dependable in that way, more so than any of the Knights of Favonius."
About Y/n: Drinking Habits
"Y/n often visits the tavern when I'm working the bar; I know their drink preferences by heart at this point. They have good taste. Why are you looking at me like that? It's not so strange to know a... friend's drink of choice, now is it?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"Urk... I... where did you get that idea? Y/n is just a close confidant and f... friend. I see no point in muddying the relationship with such feelings... that I don't have."
About Y/n
"Miss Y/n? Oh! They're so lovely! They gave me some really nice pens a few weeks ago... I wanted to give something in return, but I couldn't really think of anything... maybe I should ask Hat Guy?"
About Y/n: Favorite Thing
"My favorite thing about Y/n is their smile! It always makes me happy when I see that smile. I wonder if I was ever the cause of their smile... hmm..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"C-crush? I don't... uhm... That's the love thing Miss Lisa was talking about, right? I-is that what I feel for Y/n? Is that why they always make me so happy? Huh... a crush..."
About Y/n
"Y/n? Why so curious? You wouldn't happen to be interested in them, would you? Why am I asking? No reason, just a simple inquiry."
About Y/n: Teasing
"Oh, you've heard about me teasing Y/n? It's nothing malicious, I just like the look on their face when they get mad, it's just so cute how they puff out their cheeks... and if I get them angry enough, their face turns red. I'm rather fond of that expression of theirs."
About Y/n: Crush?
"You simply must be imagining things. Now I do believe these questions of yours are done. I'll be going now."
About Y/n
"Y/n? Oh they're great, if only I could spend more time with them... I wonder if they'd go get coffee with me... or maybe I could ask them to go on a picnic? Huh? Oh, sorry, I forgot you were here."
About Y/n: Feedback
"Y/n talks to me about my designs sometimes; they always have good feedback. I highly regard their opinion, even when architecture isn't involved. I've relied on them in the past for their judgment; I hope they'd feel comfortable doing the same with me..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"Ahahaha, I- uh, I suppose you could say... gah... not rea- or, actually... uhm............................ d-don't say anything about this to them... okay?"
best friend alhaitham who somehow has become your designated "will this guy be a good boyfriend or not" detector. except he keeps rejecting every single one of the candidates you brought up to him with the most ridiculous but logical reasons that you can't really refute.
"you've reiterated that you wanted a man who wouldn't prioritize his career over family, and he has confessed that his dream is to become the akademiya's grand sage. continuing to see him would merely expend meaningless energy on your part."
"he dislikes your favorite color and is allergic to cats. your future living arrangements are bleak."
it's when you've finally had enough, when you yell in frustration for him why don't you just pick someone who would make a good boyfriend for me, then!ー he finally stares at you, snaps his book close, and declares with the utmost confidence: "objectively speaking, that would be me."
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I wanted to draw more of what they looked like to me so :p enjoy my brain rot of the morning-after events <333
Plus Jack’s “I’m-a-monster-and-I’ve-hurt-you”guilt complex because he DOES have a whole thing about losing control during and then regretting it the next morning T3T. He says the nastiest things and then looks at you like :(( when y’all wake up.
(His demons are literally just “oh wow my marks on my lover to show people they’re taken” vs “oh wow I have no self control and have hurt my one and only when they were vulnerable.” If you don’t kiss him after he WILL sulk and it WILL be your fault btw.)
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