langostilla
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Bokuto’s head shoots up then, so fast Kuroo thinks he might get whiplash just by watching it, and it’s the pendulum of his mood swinging back the other way around. “Hey,” he says, “I just got such a good idea.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow. Bokuto’s ideas are usually fun, yes, and exciting, but good isn’t necessarily how he would describe them. If anyone’s asking. “We should kiss.”
//
Kuroo and Bokuto and the glacial path of escalation.
Series
- Part 1 of sleeping with a friend
Bookmarked by langostilla
04 Nov 2021
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Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers.
Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours.
(In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)
Series
- Part 1 of a magnitude of vulnerability
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- English
- Words:
- 9,225
- Chapters:
- 2/2
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- 1
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- 63
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Bookmarked by langostilla
01 Sep 2021
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Three days ago Sakusa told Atsumu he wanted to try his hand at giving a blowjob, and three days ago Atsumu agreed to be his first test subject, like the dumb whore he was.
Now, with his pants down to his ankles and Sakusa's pouty lips pursed at him from between his knees, it hits Atsumu all at once that this is a very bad idea.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,203
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 32
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- 900
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- 106
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- 9,031
Bookmarked by langostilla
15 Aug 2021
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The kitchen curtain fluttered, inviting a slant of light to flit about the sunspot blooming on the corner of his lips, the arch of the eyebrows he let Keiji shape sometimes, and the twinkle in his eyes — mercurial. Keiji walked over. Osamu nudged a sack of oranges toward him, which meant, pick one out at random, then tiptoe to reach the cabinet above the sink, where the juice squeezer was stored. Keiji knew that. He also knew to declare, in many stilted words, “I am deeply sorry I did not make it home last night.”
At 32, Keiji should have no business staying a record-setting 20 hours at the office.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,325
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 13
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- 134
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- 21
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- 1,098
Bookmarked by langostilla
11 Aug 2021
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“It’s noth—” Atsumu’s voice catches on a cough. He presses a hand to his mouth on reflex, ignoring the judgemental glare Kiyoomi is probably giving him. Well, it’s the right decision because Atsumu coughs something into his hand, something small, petal-soft… petal-like…petal…
Oh no.
“You’re not sick are you?” Kiyoomi grumbles, sounding substantially more composed and pissy.
Atsumu closes his hand into a fist and crushes the petal. “No, I’m not.”
Fuck what everyone else says. If you ask Atsumu, bad puns and emotional avoidance are valid ways to cope with death-by-flowers disease.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,661
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 120
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- 3,375
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- 721
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- 25,958
Bookmarked by langostilla
04 Aug 2021