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can't do a clean sketch nope

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study session 📚🖊️📓
ko-fi / twitter / redbubble
also what if i got really into kurotsukki again. what then. can u stop me no i dont think so
kisses
BONUS:
fluff 🌸

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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kurotsuki + “what are you doing?” 💖💞
What are you doing? [KuroTsuki]
It was a bad habit, that's all.
Tsukishima tried to reassure himself that these frequent lapses in judgements of his were simply the results of excessive work. Surely, the extra practice he'd been putting in at Gym Three these last few nights had him delirious. That was the only possible explanation for these strange, erratic actions of his.
And with that justification in mind, Tsukishima holds the sweaty penny to his nose once again, breathing in deeply.
It's not his fault that Kuroo smells absolutely delectable. Like this, Tsukishima can almost imagine it's Kuroo he's holding. He can picture the shorter man's defined collarbones and the way the veins in his neck pulsed whenever he grinned after a great block. Quietly, Tsukishima pretends that his lips find the way to the crook of his neck and not a sweaty rag. He takes one last whiff in, memorizing the smell of sandalwood and honey, and-
"What are you doing?"
The timid creak of the door opening fell on deaf ears, Tsukishima too engulfed in his fantasy to notice, but the low rumble of the voice that followed was enough to make his heart stop.
"Nothing!" Tsukishima insists immediately, shoving the penny into the wash with the others. "Just…" he fumbles with the controls. "Waiting for the machine to finish."
Kuroo quirks an eyebrow and Tsukishima silently prays the darkness of the room hid his actions from the third-year's vision, but the shit-eating smirk adorning Kuroo's features says otherwise. "Really?" he jests. "Because it looked like you were smelling my clothes."
While Tsukishima wants to feel relieved that Kuroo's not completely repulsed by his actions, he's too busy fighting down the blush that threatens to spread across his cheeks from Kuroo's haughty gaze. "I was…" he searches his mind for an excuse. "Curious." Tsukishima swallows, trying to present his conundrum in the most platonic-and-not-at-all-creepy-or-aroused manner.
"I recognize your cologne," Tsukishima lies calmly, tone flat. "But I can't remember where from. What is it?"
When Kuroo nods thoughtfully, seemingly taking the bait, it's all Tsukishima can do not to let out a sigh of relief. "Wow, interesting." Kuroo breaks out into a grin. "Especially because I don't wear cologne."
Shit.
Tsukishima's lost for words, sputtering together fake stories to clear himself from guilt, but Kuroo speaks over him. "But if you like it so much," is that blush on his cheeks? "I could lend you one of my sweatshirts."
.
When Tsukishima walks onto the bus the next day after a private "student and teacher" conversation with Tetsurou looking flush and slightly winded, Yamaguchi is the only one thrown off guard by his uncharacteristically dark clothes. But one look at Tsukishima's far-off, glazed over eyes and he knows better than to ask about it.
fic: diplomat’s son
Description: A modern royalty AU. Rating: M Word count: 3,177
Royalty or not, Tsukishima opens his eighteen-year-old mouth and does what he does best: says something mean.
"Some people say you don’t do much. Other than use up public funds."
Kuroo grins in response, showing a slightly crooked canine tooth.
"What a modern view of the monarchy."
(on ao3 here)
first kiss of 2020