word count: 1k+
authorโs note: warning for nsfw towards the end. fwb with implications of smth more. sโbeen a while since iโve written a non-drabble whew ~ [reuploading because first one had tagging problems huhu]
You could hear the muffled thump of footsteps coming from outside, creaking, light tremors coursing through the wooden floorboard beneath the futon.
โโcould I ever repay you for this, Kenma,โ someone says, voice bearing a familiarity you couldnโt quite put a face on, not while half-asleep.
โLike I said, just donโt get boring,โ comes a deeper one. โHave fun and.. give me something to look forward to.โ
This one you recognize all too well, all embedded into memory from hearing every night.
โA-haha.. O-of course!โ the former stammers, โDonโt make it sound so easy though.. Itโs cool you think I deserve this sponsorship, plus the fact that I finally have something to rub in that kingโs face, heh! Butโฆโ
You shift on the futon and curl to your side, eyes crinkling fondly in recognition of the voice - the perkier half of Karasunoโs duo. Heโll be going overseas soon, last youโd heard, and briefly, you consider pulling on some clothes and coming out to greet him.
But they seem barely within earshot now, voices shrunken further away (somewhere near the foyer, you gauge). You hear the front door creak open - distant laughs and murmurs of farewell being exchanged - before finally closing with a thud.
Resigned and half-dazed, you scramble to your feet, clad in only an underwear while clutching on to a blanket that didnโt do much to cover your front - as if it mattered. There wasnโt much left to cover when these walls have seen every nook and cranny of you.
Footsteps echo from down the hallway. You peek out the bedroom door and wait for him to appear at the end of the corridor, within the narrow view of his living room - tatami mats and kotetsu and all.
Against the backdrop of wood and bamboo, the only modern touch was the large globe pendant hanging from the ceiling as lighting. And adding to that, him, in his too-large hoodie and baggy cargo pants rustling with every drag of his bare feet, looking like the poster boy for domesticity and weekends at home.
Clumps of black and bleached tips slipped from his bun and framed his face with languid grace, and your fingers twitch in memory of running through them.
โSo.. Shouyo was here,โ you pipe, watching him stifle a yawn into his palm.
โYeah.. Just left actually.โ
โAnd you couldnโt bother waking me up?โ you pout, โI couldโve said hi..โ
He gives you a once-over, smiling. โIn that?โ
โHa-ha, funny. I wouldโve put something on if youโd called me.โ
He hums in humor, coming to a stop in front of you. Kozume Kenma has grown a few inches taller since high school, a few degrees warmer towards everyone else. With both hands pocketed, he smiles, a few stretches too wry. โAnd which of us would have explained to him what youโre doing here this early?โ
The question - reminder - comes out like a flick on the forehead, a soundless oh escaping your lips before closing to a thin line.
No one knew about this - whatever the kids called it these days - not Kuroo, not anyone from the team.
You wouldnโt call it hiding, not on purpose at least. The opportunity to bring it up just never came around. Funny enough, neither did the will to keep it a one-time thing.
Some nights, when youโre both too spent for another round, when he sits on the floor cross-legged with his hands on the controller, occasionally combing through your hair as you lay on his lap - you think you both know why, yet prefer to prolong the vagueness of it all.
When you donโt answer, Kenma mindlessly takes a stray tuft of hair from your temple and tucks it behind your ear, fingers lingering idly. โYour clothes are still in the laundry. Were you gonna wear mine?โ
You open your mouth to say something but find the words stuck in your throat. You gag them out. โMaybe. Would that be a problem?โ
โHmm, not really, no.โ Then tilting his head slightly, lowering his hand to the patch of skin below your jaw, โMakes me wonder though.. how heโd react if he saw these.โ
You draw your brows together in question before flinching, shuddering at his touch. Feeling a sore sensation on your neck, on the crevice of your shoulder. The stinging, almost tangible memory of lips and teeth digging into your flesh. Your face feels warm all of a sudden.
โYouโre always leaving them where itโs seen,โ you manage weakly.
โDo I..?โ he leans forward, just enough to press a kiss to your skin opposite where his fingers flirted. An unbidden shiver swims its way down your spine. โYou never try to stop me.โ
I couldnโt even if I tried.
At the feel of his lips trailing along the soft edges of your face, of the tips of his hair tickling your skin, a crawling ache settles below your waist, between your thighs. Clenching and unclenching. Your knees accidentally bump into his and youโre sure heโs caught on. He always does.
Always had been sharp at reading body language and yours was something he read fluently. Every movement and response, every lack thereof, every blush and avoidance of eye contact. Every morning when youโve woken up in the mood and press your face onto his back and heโd know just what you wanted from him. But thenโ
โYou werenโt there this morning..โ You kiss the words solemnly onto his cheek, fingers going loose around the blanket, letting it splash soundlessly onto your ankles as if a barrier had melted.
โSorry.โ His only response before taking your bottom lip between his, appending a knee between your legs. He presses a thigh against you - right where you needed him - and listens to the broken tune of sharp inhales. A silent plea for more.
You rub yourself hard against him, hot, wet - enough to feel the dampness seep through the layers and onto his skin. His fingers gravitate towards the junction and, unthinkingly, slip inside the thin fabric. At the contact, you tear your lips from his and nestle your head into the crook of his neck where his scent from last night clung. You think it might be your scent but you arenโt so sure.
โWhat timeโs your first steam..โ
โI could spare a couple more minutes.โ He laughs, beckoning you into the room. โCโmon.โ
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011925. cw | slightly suggestive (?) i hate him (affectionate)
if tsukishima kei learns the full extent of you losing your mind over the minuscule of things with everything he does,
babe, youโre done for.
if he learns that removing his glasses while kissing you makes your stomach do saumersaults, or when he fixes your clothes casually; smoothing down your skirt or adjusting your shirt, hand on your waist. or when he cups your face and squeezes both of your cheeks together, when it shows that he loves the physical touch in ways that feel crude if you say it aloud. in ways that no one else can speak about, makes you so mushy with him. to the point that it makes you sick, head throbbing.
if he learns that you find his jealousy kind of attractive, all cutting and ruthless, snappy. that you're totally not weak in the knees. if he learns that whenever he leans in whenever you speak is the cause of why you feel flustered, when he hums softly in question, tilting his head, or when he just hook you in his arms to get closer.
god. he will take absolute pleasure in pushing those buttons even moreโactually, heโd press them with the precision of someone who knows exactly how far he can go to leave you reeling, all while pretending itโs no big deal.
and this is exactly what happens, as expected, but no less frustrated.
when he realizes how much removing his glasses during a kiss messes you up, heโd start doing it slow and methodical, taking his time to set them aside while giving you that piercing look, like he knows exactly whatโs coming next. โwhat, nervous?โ heโd ask, leaning in just a fraction, his tone laced with mockery, but his lips soft when they finally meet yours.
those casual touches? forget it. his handsโthough he would ask firstโroam your body and let them linger around your waist dangerously longer than necessary, you're not making it up now, you know you feel the slight squeezes his does on your skin, letting his fingers graze, just enough to send shivers down your spine.
when he holds your face in one hand, thereโs something about how his thumb lingers near your jawline or how he leans in just a little too close. itโs playful, sure, but thereโs a tenderness beneath it that leaves you spinning. because he knows. he knows all too well.
it's game over when he finally does thisโone arm braced above your head, his whole figure towering over you, casting a shadow which makes him look ten times more insufferable. you cannot breathe.
his lips hover just shy of yours, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. โdo i really make you that nervous?โ
"fuck off."
"really? thatโs all youโve got? how original.โ
โkei, i swear toโโ you start, but the words catch in your throat as his thumb brushes the curve of your jaw, the touch barely there but devastating all the same.
โwhat? gonna tell me to stop?โ the glint in his eyes turns playful, pupils dilated, โyouโre all talk, arenโt you?โ
your hands twitch at your sides, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer. โi hate you,โ you hiss, but it lacks any real bite.
โsure you do,โ he says, his tone dripping with mockery, and thenโbecause of course he doesโhe closes the infinitesimal gap between you, his lips brushing against yours with infuriating slowness.
he kisses you chastely. it feels so wrong with how he already built so much tension. that this all just a stupid game he can easily control.
thereโs a distinct edge of smugness to it, like heโs savoring every second of your undoing. when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, the smirk is still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth.
โstill want me to fuck off?โ he asks, though he already knows the answer to it.
you can only scoff and roughly smack your lips against his in a solid, and very straightforward reply. your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else.
he relents to you just as easily, this is why he simply can't get enough of you.
my stupid writers block is not making me write properly for the hersheyโs kisses mini series so i had to pull this stupid drabble outta my sick ass (coughing loudly as we speak)
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Hi Boz!! Haven't seen you since the FT days. What new fandoms are dominating your heart now?
(Unsubtle way for me to ask what ships can we expect to see beautiful art for? Even if I don't watch the show I'll check it out for all the personality and sense of humour you put in)
Hohoho kind of you to ask and I love your question ! Iโm very into Dandadan (okamomo and jijiaira) and Spy x Family (twiyor) right now so youโll probably see those more often. Also, Invincible but idk if Iโll ever draw stuff for that ๐ค Tho some part of me really wants to try drawing some Mark x Eve smut lol
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