Team Up Mission In The Mountains

@nessieartss i did it again lol

based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask) anyway, please enjoy!!

---

Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 

Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 

How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 

Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—

“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?

Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 

“How do you ask someone out?”

Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.

“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail. “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”

Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.

“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 

“So, who is it?” Maki asks.

“Huh?” 

“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.

This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).

Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”

The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 

Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—

“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”

Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”

Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 

“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”

He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 

It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.

Fuck it. Let’s do this.

Hell Bent posed a very important question which is “Is Darlington still fuckable now that he's part demon?” To which the answer is, of course, yes.

tell me, we both matter, don’t we?

this isn't their first kiss but hua cheng always reacts like it's their first

Keith knows, truthfully and entirely objectively, that his life has improved since he started dating Lance. Obviously. There is no disputing this fact if nature. His attitude has mellowed, his days are brighter, his nights are even better, his crops are watered his skin is clear et cetera et cetera. (Literally, on that last one, since Lance is sneaky with his product).

…However.

There are setbacks.

Like right now, where he’s been pushed so far to the edge of the bed that he’s actually holding his breath to avoid being squished against that wall like a new coat of paint. So.

He loves his boyfriend. Seriously. He’s slept more in the months they’ve been seeing each other than he has in his entire life combined, actually. It’s insane. There’s something about Lance pressed up against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his ribs, nose barely peeking above his shoulder to let in some air (seriously how does he do that; Keith has watched him and he has, like, maybe one nostril available for oxygen intake. The rest of his face is smooshed against Keith’s upper arm and pec. And he’s got the blanket up to his ears, too. Does Lance not need to breathe for long periods of time? Like a dolphin? Keith will have to ask) that just makes sleeping actually relaxing, for once. Like maybe he doesn’t have to stay half awake, like maybe he can actually trust himself to be safe in his own bed. It’s an incredible feeling, to finally feel well-rested in the mornings.

He does. However. Feel the ittiest, tiniest bit like he’s sleeping with a corset on. And being hydraulic pressed into the corner of the room. If he has to pick something to be nitpicky about, he means.

“Lance, c’mon,” he mutters, exhaling finally. Lance, who is mostly asleep based on the growing puddle of drool Keith feels wetting his sleep shirt, takes the opportunity to squeeze tighter like a goddamn python. “Can you move over a little bit? I’m up against the wall, I got no room to breathe —”

The human corset suddenly lets up, and Keith can breathe again.

So he does.

Perhaps a touch dramatically, with the bug gasping inhale or whatever.

(Look, he’s not perfect. He’s quite comfortable blaming Shiro’s influence, actually.)

“Thank you,” he huffs. He takes a few deep breaths, feeling the twinge in one of his ribs; tender from an injury he has yet to admit he has. (It’s fine. He checked. It’s barely even bruised mostly, he’s good. It’ll handle itself or become a Future Keith problem, so.) He curses under his breath as he stretches a bit, taking advantage of the space.

He frowns. “Wait, what?”

He sits up, confused as to why his spider monkey boyfriend is not in his immediate presence. It takes a second for his bleary eyes to adjust to the half-light of their bedroom, but eventually he manages and looks over and Lance is — Lance is on the goddamn floor. The blanket is with him. And four pillows.

“Lance.”

Keith bites his lip. This is either a bit or a very delicate situation, and if it’s the latter and he laughs then he’s very much in the doghouse, and for all his complaining he would much rather spend the night suffocating than alone. Much rather.

“Aw, Lance, come on.”

Unfortunately, his voice shakes, and he can’t quite tamp down his snorts and giggles, as much as he tries to muffle them.

Lance doesn’t speak, but Keith can almost physically taste his frown. His pout practically has its own atmosphere, it’s so potent.

“Hey.”

Keith gets to his knees, half-shuffling across the mattress. He leans over the edge, closer to Lance’s curled up form, and raises an eyebrow, amused. “Leandro. You are not being serious right now.”

The silence continues to grow. Keith can almost feel an actual chill, there’s so much iciness leaking from Lance right now.

(He also has the only blanket, but whatever. Tomato tomato.)

“Baby.”

“If you never want to sleep with me again that’s fine,” Lance says tersely. Keith rolls his eyes, head in his hands. “The floor is lovely. I’d rather be here than anywhere near your stinky mullet anyway.”

Keith sighs, long and heavy, steeling himself for the inevitable back pain he is going to have tomorrow morning. The things he does for love.

“You are the most dramatic man alive. Scoot over.”

Caught off guard, Lance uncurls, looking over at Keith in confusion.

Keith grins. “There are those pretty brown eyes.”

The pretty brown eyes in question are still squinted in suspicion, but Keith was expecting that. He moves as casually as he can manage, even trying his luck by humming something Lance was listening to earlier, picking up the edge of the blanket and sliding in behind his boyfriend, flat on the floor, arms winding around his waist and head bent at the junction of his shoulder. Lance is still tense, but allows Keith in his space, thankfully. Keith was half worried he’d stomp away to go sleep with Hunk.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Lance’s neck and lingering there, making his boyfriend shiver as his lips tickle his skin. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Just feeling a little claustrophobic.”

Lance softens, but only barely. “You can tell me to back off, you know. I will.”

There’s still an undertone of hurt to his voice, a backing of insecurity. Keith tightens his grip, shaking his head.

“No. Don’t want that.”

Lance makes a frustrated noise. “Well, then what do you want, Mr. Mixed Signals?”

“You.” He traces an invisible line down the side of Lance’s neck with his mouth, kissing and biting slightly, relishing in every little twitch of Lance’s shoulders. “Duh.”

“No, not ‘duh’,” Lance argues, but his voice has gone weak. “You’re a pain in my ass. Do you want to be cuddled or not, Red?”

Bingo. Keith fights a smirk at the nickname, knowing he fails when Lance sighs, but the slide of his hands to rest on top of Keith’s bely his amusement, his fading irritation.

“Course I do,” Keith promises. His kisses the back of Lance’s neck again, but it’s softer this time; no underlying motives. An assurance, a promise. “I just. You know. Would also like twelve percent more space to inflate my lungs, if that’s okay.”

Lance snorts. Keith grins.

“You’re such a goober.”

“You’re the goober, actually. The pile of drool on my shoulder proves it.”

He feels more than sees Lance’s neck go red. Keith snickers. Lance hates when Keith brings up the drooling and for that he will literally never ever stop.

“I hope you wake up in agony.”

“Oh, I will, thanks to your hissy fit.”

Lance kicks his heel into Keith’s shin because he’s a shithead. Keith takes it without complaint because he’s the biggest whipped loser of all time and he’s well aware of it.

“We can go back to the bed, you know,” Lance offers eventually, although he makes no effort to move.

Keith yawns. “Nah.” He rests his head on the top of Lance’s spine, tangling their legs together. “I’m good where you are.”

———

based off this post

Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!)

ever remember a long book or series and then how life was back when you read it?

especially if it was a long time ago

nostalgia kicks you to the curb and leaves you to die

Tosses up Kirishima Moms up here. I always found it funny how small Eijirou originally had normal teeth before his quirk came in, so I imagine as he was losing baby teeth, he had a mix of shark teeth and regular human teeth for a while.

+ The outcome (Xie Lian convinces Hua Cheng to join him at friendsgiving this year):