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secondhand-trash · 3 years

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If I Only Knew Your Name

A/N: so this was an idea I got while mindlessly picking songs to listen to on Spotify’s Indie rock playlist and came across this one song that just made me want to write something about it hehe accidentally put this aside for a whole month but I’m so glad that it’s here now lmao I had a lot of fun writing this

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: After a drunken night of passion, Atsumu had nothing he could find you with, not even your name. So he took the matter into his own hands and tried to search for you using the power of the internet.

Warning: drunken one night stand, suggestive descriptions, Atsumu is an embarrassment and I sure hope you cringe while you read it as much as I did when I was writing it

Word count: 9453

The song:

Young Love (feat. Laura Marling)//Mystery Jets, Laura Merling

One night of love

Nothing more nothing less

One night of love

Had left my heart in a mess

You woke up with a sharp pain spiking down your back, in a room you were sure you had never been to, on a bed that wasn’t yours.

Your head was heavy and every cell in your body screaming that you just wanted to fall asleep again when you stirred awake. You would have, had it not been the fact that you were not in your own room slowly started to settle in. There was a brief moment of blankness in your mind as you took in your surroundings. The room was still dim, the sun barely shining through the windows that were half covered by the shades. The domestic messiness crossed out the possibility that you were in a hotel room or some odd space behind the club you clearly remembered being at last night.

You did not move as your eyes glanced around the space. Trophies and picture frames were lining up on the shelf at the corner, all of names and faces you couldn’t match up with any of the ones that you remembered. The linen covers you were sitting under was sturdy on your skin, a dark red on top of brown sheets that you would have never bought for your mattress. The scent of the fabric was foreign to you, making your morning state of mind more and more alarmed at the amount of information you were trying to take in. You had to admit that it was very soft on the skin, not the slightest bit uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare arm when the duvet fell off of your body as you sat up.

You felt a moment of frantic terror at the registration of your own bareness, with your legs feeling terribly cramped, waking up on a bed that you did not remember getting into.

Everything clicked when you stiffly turned to your side, and found someone laying next to you.

The broad back facing your side had you clutching the sheets up to cover your torso that now felt chilly with the lack of layers. The man, whose name you did not think you know and what you had done with him last night you could not remember but was certainly able to guess, was still soundly in his sleep. Now that you were painstakingly unable to ignore his presence, you picked up on the soft snores that lingered in the air, making your legs that were rubbing against each other under what you could only assume to be his spreads tense up as the picture of what happened to get you right where you were slowly got clear.

You would prefer not to think about it in detail, albeit the fact that it getting vivid in your mind sent a trail of heat from your core right onto your face and burning out the fuse in your head.

There was a slither of shame and guilt as you found yourself staring hazily at the man, his sculpted back spasming with each breath. Your hand gripping at the sheets in front of your chest only served to pull it further down his torso, revealing the dip at his waist and his arms that curled tighter against his body with a shiver. Blonde hair sprawled out messily on the pillow, and you felt chills creeping up your spine at the recoil of your fingers fisting those locks and brushing against the fuzzy patch of his undercut as he hovered above you.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Your skin burnt up at the lingering feeling of a firm grip on your legs, the warm trail of his lips down your neck, and the unmistakable dullness between your thighs.

The heat settled into the pit of your stomach as a weight, twisting your guts until it resembled what felt like a bitter mix of shame and guilt.

Fuck, you slept with an absolute stranger last night.

You bite back a groan, slamming your hands against your face before letting them run down in a weak attempt to clear your head.

This was why you never go to clubs anymore.

The jolt of your body as you sat up straight pushed the sheets off of you and you winced at the soft whimper from the person next to you at the sudden movement. Your naked state was simply uncomfortable, not feeling like you were in your own skin at all as ironic as this was. You couldn’t help but hug your arms around your frame as you frantically looked around to see where your clothes and belongings were, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw the clothes you wore last night littering across the floor in all its messy glory.

Your clothes were all wrinkled up from the careless placement, a clear display of the passion and impulse when they were being taken off. Your hands were the same kind of frantic as you rushed to put everything back on, not caring about tugging them in properly or the fact that you did not even look into a mirror at all to see if you were at least presentable.

You did not hear the groan from the man that tossed over to his side on the bed as you slipped out of the bedroom, careful in softening your steps as you let the door clicked and darting your eyes around to see where the rest of your things were.

If you remembered correctly from the weak reconstruction of what happened last night, then your clutch should be somewhere near the door.

The giggle that slipped past your lips as he swung the door shut turned into a laugh when he latched onto you immediately. You could taste the hint of vodka lingering on his lips, bundling up your senses together with the warm breaths against your neck when he trailed down. It was like floating on a cloud, the way you latched yourself on this handsome man and he seemed to be unable to get enough of you. You barely heard the thump of what you were holding in your hand landing on the floor as your limbs went weak, swinging your arms around his broad shoulders when your mouth fell agape as he sucked down on the soft spot right on your neck.

It was right where you left it last night, the one and only clutch that you felt was suitable for you to bring to a club. There was a hint of hesitation as you rushed to pick it up, holding it in your hand when you thought of the person who you had left on the bed by himself.

What do people do after a one night stand? Talk? Have breakfast together? Or in your case, ask them for their name because you did not remember one thing that happened before you stepped into these doors?

Dear god, no.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of, and rushed out of the door without even looking back.

It wasn’t until you were far away from the apartment building you ran out of, the weight of your body shifting from leg to leg as you waited for the train to slowly drive into the station that something did not feel right to you. Your fingers fidgeted in reflex as you shoved yourself past the small gap between each person stuffed into the cart, a bad habit you had formed as a kid when you were nervous.

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when the lack of metal brushing against the tip of your finger finally clicked in your head.

You cussed under your breath, knowing exactly where the thin, gold band must be.

Miya Atsumu woke up with a pounding headache, in his own apartment that he forgot how he got back to, on his bed that somehow felt emptier than usual.

At first, all he could focus on was the clear hungover that he was suffering from. His tongue felt dry and he scrunched his face up at the bitterness as he tried to gulp. The half-drawn curtains were not doing it in shielding the sun that already came out, making him squeeze his eyes tight and blinked a few times before finally adjusting to the brightness. Stretching out on the bed, Atsumu whined at the soreness pulling at his muscles, feeling his joints pop as he arched his back and sprawled over to the other side of the bed.

He froze in place, arms still spread over his head and legs bundling up the sheets, before jolting up in one rapid movement only to wince at the horrible spinning in his head at the rush of blood up to his already heavy head.

Yet, dizziness and all that, Atsumu was sure that the feeling of someone being here with him last night definitely wasn’t just a drunkness induced illusion.

He groaned at the untimely pang of pain that pulsed at his temple, ruffling his hands through the locks of his hair that was tangled up from him tossing around the bed. The slight pull at his scalp at his impatient detangling method made him hiss, but it also served to get his wires just a little more sorted out than before.

First things first, he was very naked and combining that with the certainty that he must have had someone over, it wasn’t very hard for him to connect the dots. He ran his palm over the ruffled sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles and searched if there was still any hint of warmth left on the fabric. He cursed under his breath when nothing else but coolness met his skin, scolding himself for acting like a fool over some one night stand that did not even wait until he woke up to leave.

There was a lump at the back of his throat as he stayed there, holding onto the hovering position he took on the bed without a single thought.

He snapped out of it when he realised that he was in his own space, just staying still and letting time passed without doing anything. Atsumu had a strong feeling that if he stayed in bed any longer then he would just be miserable for the rest of the day and he really couldn’t afford it if he couldn’t manage to get over himself soon enough.

For all that it was, there was no bigger asset to his career than this very body that he felt like trash in right now, and god knows how much trouble he would get if people learnt that he let his performance slip because he couldn’t bounce back after a drunken hookup.

His steps were floaty as he climbed off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom and harshly gripping at the faucet. The water streamed out as a strong current and he splashed it against his face in a sadistic force. The coldness was stinging his skin, with no help from the way he rubbed his hands down his face and back up his chin.

He looked terrible, Atsumu thought to himself when he stared at the reflection in front of him. His eyelids were pulled taut with his hand, cheeks squished under his palm before he pulled away meanly. Bloodshot eyes made him wince and his face was so dropsy it looked like he had cried himself to sleep.

A loud slap echoed in the empty bathroom when he clasped his face a bit too hard in a desperate attempt to clear his head. He whined, rubbing the area that went numb and then heated up. There was a slight flush around the area he had slapped down, but he was feeling more in touch with reality afterwards.

Alright, so what happened last night?

It would be a lie if Miya Atsumu said he had never had one night stands. He would argue that he never go out with the intention for one, but sometimes one thing leads to another and it just happens. Some were good, some not really, some he hadn’t really think of until now when he was desperately thinking of what it was that led him to now.

He hadn’t wakened up with a hungover this bad in a long while. Being in a profession that demands that much of your physiques meant that there was not much room for the more self-destructive type of letting loose. It was strange, Atsumu pinched the center of his brows as one hand on the kitchen counter held his body still, he didn’t quite remember the deeds of what was happened once the door to his room was closed last night.

Wow, he looked up with eyes widened and huffed at no one, that was such a douchebag thing to say.

He, however, remembered the person that stumbled through the door with him in shocking vividness to even his surprise.

He would have to pretend that the lack of follow up did not send a blow to his ego, reassuring himself that there was no way it was because he behaved terribly that the person had to run off before he even woke up. He was bitter about the fact that they had left without leaving even a note, something he had no idea he cared about at all until this very moment when the silence of his home became just short of irritating in his pounding head.

Could have at least said ‘I had fun last night but I gotta go’.

Atsumu rubbed his temple, slowly rotating his arms backwards to get rid of that dull cramp.

Or maybe leave their number somewhere too.

He paused in his track, standing awkwardly in the middle of his tiny living room.

Did he want their number?

He shook his head violently to rid of the meaningless thought, an act he would immediately regret when he remembered that he was having a hungover as the dizziness made him stumble on his feet.

A crisp clang after he took a fumbled step to steady himself quieted all of the voices in his head. That was not a sound that aligned with what his brain expected from his worn-out room slippers kicking against the wooden floor. Atsumu held his head as the rang of what sounded like something metallic registered itself in his mind, blinking at the empty space right in front of his feet.

His eyes darted around the floor, searching for whatever it was he must have stepped on to make that sound. Atsumu was ready to settle for the possibility that he was starting to hear things when a quick flash of light from the corner caught his attention. He walked towards where it was, and slowly crouched down.

It was a ring, a very tiny one. It looked rather ridiculous being held between his calloused fingers, the thin golden band arching off the afternoon light that had shined on it. A very simple design with no gems or carvings along the surface, something very much so the opposite to his taste. He knew it was not his, from the size to the tone to the lack of anything all over its rim.

And then he remembered the first time he saw the ring, on someone else’s finger, just last night.

Atsumu would not classify himself as a party animal, despite the common speculation shared by people who knew him but not well enough. He could deal with house parties just fine, but clubbing had never been much of his thing ever since he woke up outside the back of a night club once with the worst ring in his ear he had ever experienced.

If it wasn’t part of his job, he would much rather be anywhere else than this overly opulent club that his team’s sponsor had booked up for their event. But business was business, and if he wanted to keep having his own room in away games then this was the price he had to pay.

Was it a nice club? He couldn’t say, but it sure was an expensive one if he was to make a guess based on the decor. So expensive that it was a bit tacky, if he dares to say. It was like the owner wanted to remind you that this was high-end and decadent. Imagine what you would see in a basic mansion on a real estate agent’s website, then dim it up and add many hi-fis, what you would result with was likely close if not identical to the space he was in. It was loud and hard to escape from, his ear pounding together with the baseline every time it blasted through He would never quite understand rich people, he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink and scrunched his eyebrows together. He forced down the urge to poke his tongue out at the obvious taste of syrup, trying to pass it off with a cough into his fist as he plopped down on the barstool.

“How’s your drink?”

The smooth voice reaching into his ear was mismatched to the booming club he was in. Atsumu turned his stool to the side with a push with the heel of his uncomfortable leather shoes and was met with an entertained gaze. You sat with both feet on the footrest of the stool, a posture that seemed rather childish for the night club bar you sat in front of. With your bare forearms lazily placed at the edge of the bar table, your finger tapped casually against the rim of your cocktail glass, the pink liquid inside looking like it was glowing under the neon lights. He could not map out your features too clearly but your head tilted as you looked at him through narrowed eyes, a glimmer behind your lashes from the many lights that hung above your head.

Miya Atsumu was an adult now and in his adult mind, he knew that the proper answer he should give to a stranger asking about the sugary mixture he just poured down his throat was that it tasted decent, expensive even, like the club he was sitting in now.

“It’s kinda shit,” he felt a strange swell in his chest when you let out an unfiltered snort at his answer, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest as he licked his lips, “yours?”

You lifted up the glass and necked down the rest of the coloured water, smacking your lips as the sweetness spread in your mouth. “Like the type of stuff they mark up and sell to high schoolers who couldn’t buy real alcohol.”

The bartender at the side threw you two a sharp look and you two sat up straighter, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He supposed you had to be tipsy at the very least and probably so was he, what sober person giggled like a child over trash talking overpriced liquor at a bar? “Why are you here at this trashy place?” you asked, now resting your chin on your palm with your elbow propping you up.

You did not know him, Atsumu was almost delighted by the fact that you likely just struck a conversation with him because he was another bored person trying to escape to the sidelines of dancing bodies just like you with no other intentions. “Got an invite and couldn’t say no because of work reasons,” he wasn’t exactly lying, he just didn’t say that he was supposed to be one of the main guests of this function.

“Ooo...” you let out a soft whistle, tilting your upper body forward him, “are you a big shot?”

He smirked.

Yes. “Not entirely.”

“Hm...” you sat back, your smile pursed as you tapped your finger on the table, “not denying it, huh?”

The vibration of your hum sent shivers to his spine and he blamed it on the very spiked drink he just gulped down. Atsumu ran his hand through his hair, a move he discovered in his teenage years that could let him smoothly fixed his hair while also flexing his arm. “I try to stay humble,” he replied, earning him a playful eye roll from you.

The melting ice clinked in the glass when he held it up against his lips, still looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he tilted it and let the pungent liquid run down his throat.

You nodded, returning to the laid back posture you kept before he sat down next to you at the dim corner of the bar table when you realised he wasn’t going to say more. “Fair enough,” you pretended to sound disappointed, holding your hand out in front of you to swiftly turn your attention away.

“You?”

“Got dragged here by a friend who works for the organiser,” you huffed, “don’t even know anyone here besides from them.”

Atsumu felt the warm buzz of the liquor spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, settling onto his face as a tipsy fever. He did not look away from you and he was sure it was exactly what you wanted, mindlessly toying with your hand as you faced away from him. Your shoulders pulled back as you slid the thin ring off your index finger smoothly with your thumb, twisting it with the tips of your fingers before letting it fell down another one, all while pushing your hips back against the stool as you crossed your legs.

“Nice ring,” he tipped his chin slightly.

“Oh, this one,” you held your hand out to him, spreading your fingers apart to show him. You pulled back just slightly when he reached out, grinning teasingly at him when he quirked his brow up.

“my grandma gave it to me before she passed away,” you sighed, caressing the band that sat on your finger dreamily, “shoved it into my hand on her death bed and made me swore to never lose it, said it was given to her by her first love when she was a girl.”

“Oh,” Atsumu let out a soft gasp, “oh wow, I-”

He rolled his eyes when you broke out into laughter, the longing expression all gone from your face as you let out a hiccup through your giggling. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He clicked his tongue, letting out a huff, “Lying isn’t good.”

“Neither is talking to a stranger at a club but I’m still here,” you wet your lips as you flashed a childish smirk, showing him your hand again. He was certain that he was drunk now, because there was no other way he could excuse the pounding in his chest when you didn’t pull away this time as he reached out to hold your hand for a better look.

“I got this as a pack of 5 for 800 yen online,” you said proudly, “quite the deal, if you ask me.”

He hummed in approval, letting out a shaky breath when you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip, the tip of your finger ticking the center of his palm before you lifted it away. It sent electricity trickling down his spine, the feeling of your touch lingering on his skin even as you were steps away from him again, once again staring at him with a smile tugging on your face like you were waiting for his move.

Was it a challenge or was it an invite? Either way, he was ready to take on whatever you were offering.

“You still owe me some sort of compensation for toying with my poor heart like that,” he mused, mimicking the way you leaned towards him from before.

You sniggered, “And what do you want from a poor stranger like me?”

The music playing through the speakers stopped temporarily and for a moment, the projected light illuminated his figure briefly before moving to another spot. You had not taken a good look at him until now, knowing full well that the attractiveness of anyone under the pink, dim glow of the bar was not to be trusted.

But he was really, really good-looking, even when you could actually see his face properly.

The next song started playing and the party people on the dance floor cheered. The loudness that returned made your head ache and you scrunched your nose in annoyance as the dj yelled into the mic. Atsumu threw his head back as the music returned, tapping his finger against his jaw.

“How about,” he said, knowing that you and he were likely to be on the same page, “you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink somewhere where the drinks aren’t shit?”

You chuckled at his unfiltered suggestion, your laughter slurring into a hum as you grabbed your clutch by the side of the bar. “I can make up to you,” you asked as you stood up, tilting your head to your side, “by letting you pay for me?”

He nodded, smoothing out his shirt as he got up from his stool too.

You shrugged, pressing your palm to your face to let the coldness of your hand calm down the heat on your face as you grinned.

“Take me somewhere nice then, big shot.”

Even through his tipsy haze, Atsumu was sure that this was the most irrational thing he had done in a while but as you took his arm while he pulled you through the crowd and out in the open after being stuck in the same space with many drunk and sweaty bodies afterwards, he was quite certain that he couldn’t care less whether this was stupid or not.

If he had any regrets about it, he would just blame it on the alcohol.

Now that he was staring at a fake gold ring you got as a pack of 5 for not even a thousand yen, Atsumu could only tear at his own hair in regret when he realised that he didn’t ask for your name or contact at any point during which you went from the first bar to one he actually liked, then to many other because there was no way he would get this drunk after just two drinks, and finally stumbled through the door of his own house, before you disappeared as if you had never been there at all.

It was all the alcohol’s fault, fuck alcohol.

It was not his first time taking a near-stranger home and even though he wouldn’t want to say it out loud to people, he also couldn’t guarantee that this was the last time either. He should just forget about it and move on with his day, maybe make some tea, maybe get some soup to cure this heaviness in his head so he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself the way he really should. After all, there was really nothing he could do about it since he didn’t know anything about you other than what you looked like and that you wore cheap jewelry. But it left a strange tightness in his chest when he toyed with the gold ring in his hand, knowing full well that drunk or not he did enjoy his time with you even before it really got to the fun fun part.

He really should have just asked for your name like a normal person instead of trying to look cool and mysterious the moment you talked to him at the bar.

Miya Atsumu let out a sigh no one was there to hear as he slowly accepted the fact that not only was he hungover, he was also hung up, and put the only evidence he had of you ever being there with him into the key tray by his door.

He would figure out what to do with it later but for now, he was starving.

So Atsumu set off for the only one place he could think of that couldn’t kick him out no matter how annoying of a customer he was.

“Say, Samu...”

Miya Osamu sighed, putting the plate he was drying at the side and let the damped towel fell from his hand onto the side of the sink. His twin had finished his food a long while ago yet he was refusing to leave, planting his face down at his counter like a pile of mush as he took up the precious space of Onigiri Miya’s bar seat. Osamu liked to think that he was a supportive brother , by all means. He fed Atsumu, listened to his childish whines and didn’t kick him out when he started getting so loud that the other patrons sent him a worried glance. Maybe he should have pretended that he was about to head out for errands when he saw his twin marching in, slumping down on the stool like he owned the place (Miya Atsumu claimed that he had unlimited access by relation, Miya Osamu denied it with his life and told all his employees to just kick his twin out if he said that bullshit to them).

He was so nice, Osamu thought to himself, he was far too nice.

“What is it?” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he heard Atsumu’s muffled voice.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone without knowing their name?”

Oh god, what was he up to again?

“Depends,” Osamu snorted, picking his towel again when he realised that it was nothing too serious that he should stop his work to listen to, “if it happens to someone else, then sure, maybe, everything is possible. But if you're telling me that you think you’re in love with someone you don’t know,” he paused, before breaking into a wide grin, “I think I might laugh.”

“Hey!” Atsumu yelled, his fist slamming on the counter as he snapped his head up. The bang caught the attention of several other customers at the shop and Osamu sent them an apologetic bow before glaring at Atsumu who was rubbing his aching hand for slapping it against the wooden surface. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“Alright then,” Osamu nodded absent-mindedly, "so what are you going to do about it?”

Atsumu’s raised hand froze in the air before he slowly, robotically put it down, down, down until it was back on the counter together with the rest of his upper body.

Osamu’s nodding got firmer now, letting out yet another snigger, “Thought so.”

Atsumu let out a groan, deflating onto the counter more and more with each whine. He looked sad and pathetic, even more so than he usually was and even Osamu who was born immune to whatever teary rent he put on was starting to get concerned.

“Was the sex really that good?”

“it is not about the sex,” Atsumu mumbled, leaning his chin on top of his folded arms as he sighed, “I just... think we had a connection.”

Osamu laughed, the ugly kind, and earned himself a sharp glare. “A connection, huh?” he giggled, “you’re down bad.”

“It’s not funny...”

Hiccuping as he tried to calm himself down, Osamu placed a hand onto the kitchen counter to steady himself as his body vibrated.

“I still think you’re overreacting,” Osamu took in a deep breath, catching up after finally regaining his posture, “besides, you’re technically a public figure, right? If you can’t find them, why don’t you just try and get them to find you instead?”

Atsumu’s hiss about how he wasn’t overreacting stuck at the back of his throat when paused and thought of what Osamu had suggested.

“Huh,” he sat up a little straighter, eyes rolling inside of their sockets as he pondered, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”

"Of course it’s not,” Osamu huffed, “I’m the smart twin.”

“What did you just-”

Osamu ignored Atsumu’s glare, turning around to resume his work now that he seemed to have fulfilled his responsibility as a brilliant, amazing brother. He gave it a month, no, two weeks max before his brother forgot all about this person and moved on as if Atsumu had never shown up in front of his door with puffy eyes and a love-sick expression.

Oh, he just couldn’t wait to hear all the excuses and denial when he brought it up again the next time they get into a petty argument.

It was a terrible idea.

The Inarizaki volleyball alumni group chat exploded when the first post of what would be many to come was published for the world to see. Suna Rintarou, always so quick with capturing his old teammates embarrassing moments, kicked Atsumu out before he sent out links, screenshots, and pinged every single member of the group who did not read his message immediately. Miya Osamu refused to speak up about it, keep denying that he knew anything about it.

“I do not know this person,” his fingers hurt from how fast he was typing, not even bothering to correct the typos in his message before hitting send to clear his name, “I have no idea what has gotten into him but I’m not responsible for it.”

He was, in fact, telling the truth. Osamu was just as shocked and wide-eyed as everyone else was when he came across his twin’s post on Instagram as he scrolled through his feed mindlessly after work. Let us just say that all his sleepiness was gone when he saw his twin’s pretentious selfie of him standing in front of a window (shirtless), his hand holding onto the frame as he looked out into the grey sky. The posture was optimal for him to flex his back, letting the light seeping out around his frame do the trick of accentuating his muscles. Atsumu’s face was not entirely in the frame but Osamu did not need to see to know that he had his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze lowered into a look that was supposed to convey the message of “wow look at me, I’m so sad, and I’m also hot”.

Miya Osamu felt a metallic ting in his mouth when he imagined Atsumu’s face, so heart-wrenchingly similar to his own, making that look.

He got spammed by the group chat as soon as he clicked out of the app in horror, refusing to look at that monstrosity any longer. Ginjima was losing his mind, Akagi sent out strings of just him keyboard smashing, Oomimi replied with a very concerned sticker and proceed to not show up again, Kita who was not actually on Instagram at all said it wasn’t very nice of them to make fun of their friend like that but also didn’t quit the group chat himself. Ojiro was the last one to reply, seeming to be rather irritated after Suna kept tagging him and tagging him until he finally went online. Unlike the others who were still comprehending what had possibly got into their friend, he sent out a screenshot but this time with the caption of the post highlighted.

“Is he ok? Did he got dumped or something?”

Osamu did not look at the caption before it was brought to his attention, already feeling the impact sufficiently enough from the visual itself. He felt chills running through his arms and spreading to his entire body when he glanced at the string of words, his face scrunching up in disgust at how any sane person could type it out with their own hands.

“My world had not seen light since the day you left it without saying goodbye.”

He silently switched his status to “do not disturb” when the group chat exploded once again, knowing exactly what this was and that he was fully responsible for the pain he was experiencing right now.

Osamu tried to convince Atsumu that if anyone saw these, the only thing it would persuade them to do was run away instead of reaching out to him but it was to no avail. He was convinced that this was romantic and if he kept it up, it would create enough buzz that would possibly lead the stranger he was hoping to stumble across one of these painfully awful posts and recognise him. The posts kept coming and every day, Osamu felt more and more of an impulse to just block him for good so he wouldn’t have to open his feed each day with the fear of seeing things he did not want to see.

One day, on a beautiful weekend morning, when he finally had time to sit down and have a nice breakfast without rushing, Osamu opened his feed to see a glorious picture of his twin chest down (shirtless) on the bed, with the camera panning up to close up on his face from below. The blanket covered Atsumu’s torso loosely, showing just enough of his waist but not too much that he would get flagged. He had the lower half of his face behind his forearm, staring into the camera with such a sultry stare it made Osamu’s skin crawl.

“If I can start over, I’ll give up all I have just for another night with you.”

Osamu nearly didn’t manage to hold himself back from spitting out the water in his mouth.

The word slowly spread among the community. Suna, ever the enthusiastic teammate he was, shared his recently discovered source of joy with fellow EJP Raijin member Komori Motoya, who in turn spammed the latter’s cousin who had no choice but to acknowledge his teammate’s questionable online presence. Sakusa didn’t think he could ever have such a reaction to something that was not physically there to bother him and proceed to show it to the nearest person he could grab in the locker room, but not without reporting the post for containing unsettling images.

If he had to suffer, then he must make sure that there was someone else suffering with him too. Sakusa had no intention of being the only person who had to see Miya’s pretentious bathroom selfie where he stared into the camera all while running his fingers through dampened hair along with a caption Sakusa did not even want to read in his head. The “someone”, captain Meian Shugo who was really not paid enough for this, sighed as he wondered if this was worth reporting to management as a potential pr crisis. Tomas, somewhat curious by the look on his captain’s face, asked if this was the current social media trend in Japan to which all the players present fought to clear that misconception from his head in order to defend their nation’s honour.

Bokuto looked it up after hearing about the whispers and chats between breaks. “Why, this isn’t that bad!” he said cheerfully, “There are people complimenting him in the comments too! Look!”

The rest of the team spent a good chunk of time convincing him that he should think more cautiously about it when he suggested that perhaps he should try to take on this dynamic posing style for his social media accounts too.

It sure did stir up quite the storm among his fellow athletes and the many fans that were wondering what exactly, or who exactly, it was that caused this sudden shift in his behaviour online. The few people who knew the reason for Atsumu’s melancholy, namely Osamu and some others who could not escape from a venting Atsumu, were almost certain that you would have to at least see his face somehow. If he was still hearing nothing, then it was probably about time he gives up and accepts that you just didn’t want anything to do with him.

One thing that these men who put their entire lives into volleyball failed to take into account, however, was that not every person in the world was particularly interested in the sport that lived and breathed. For people who only heard about the sport if the Olympics were coming up, whatever the players were up to in their private lives was probably not something they would care too much about.

Sadly, for Miya Atsumu, the exact person he was looking for was one of those people.

“The fans are starting to go crazy, no one has any idea what is going on with him,” you pulled your phone slightly further away from your poor ears as your friend let out an exasperated yell from the other end of the call.

They lost you when they started talking about this athlete they had a celeb crush on and how they had been acting very strange in their posts lately, realising that this would become one of their ramblings about people with names you barely remember. They bombed your phone in the middle of the day when they found out that their company would be sponsoring a sports team they were obsessed with and did not stop until you threatened to block them until they had calmed down. You still hadn’t forgiven them completely for disappearing out of nowhere after begging you to attend a company function with them all with the reasoning that if they came across one of the players that would also be invited, you could be there to stop them from embarrassing themselves. That was not entirely useful, given that they were whisked away by their colleagues not even an hour into the event and leaving you all on your own.

If it wasn’t for them, then none of the events following that night would have ever happened.

But the past was past and as they called you again to talk about how they were heartbroken because their fav might be seeing someone, you did not stop them, obviously, since you were a great friend.

A sigh called your attention back and you silently closed your dash of animal videos to focus on what they were saying. “Are you even listening?”

“Uhm...” you hummed, “emo thirst traps, you were saying?”

“We tried to dig down all the accounts he was following but no one was posting anything that might match up to his posts,” they let out a whine.

“So,” you said, “are you still going to see him this weekend even if you are heartbroken or?”

They gasped before you suggested that if they didn’t want to go anymore, then you would do something else rather than sitting through a game you were not interested in. “Of course we’re still going!” they emphasised on the ‘we’, “who knows when I’ll get front row tickets again once the sponsorship ends and they aren’t giving the company tickets anymore!”

They paused. “You’re still going with me,” it sounded more like a threat and a statement than a question, and they asked again when you didn’t reply, “you’re going with me, aren’t you?”

You sighed. They were usually pretty laid back, except when it has something to do with volleyball. What was it with volleyball? It was like... football but with hands, tennis without a rack, basketball but with no basket. Ball sports, they were all the same in your eyes. But despite your lack of interest, the truth was that you wouldn’t have anything else to do if you didn’t go with them anyways and you did promise you would go as long as you didn’t have to pay a single dollar.

So you sighed again, earning you a displeased click of the tongue from the other end of the call.

Your lack of interest maintained when the day came. You didn’t think you had ever been to a stadium when there was a game going on before and the arena was already filling up with people waiting to get it by the time you were there. You were delightedly surprised when you learnt that there would be vendors selling food, silently deciding that the very nice yakionigiri you got from one of the stalls might just be the highlight of your day.

The staff at the store looked vaguely familiar, but you had no idea where you would have possibly seen him before.

When the lights of the venue switched off out of nowhere and the crowd cheered, perhaps you could finally start to understand why your friend was such a fanatic for sports. There was something exciting and grand about the bright spotlights and the announcer’s voice pounding through your ears from the speakers. You peeked at your side to see your friend’s eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before and chuckled to yourself, leaning back with your legs crossed to watch the game in a better position as the players’ names were called one by one.

You froze in place when you saw a very familiar face on every screen around the stadium.

“Number 13, Miya Atsumu!”

What happened to not being a big shot?

Screams filled up the stadium, especially ear grating when the loudest person seemed to be the one right next to you but your mind was an utter state of blank. You were not expecting to see him again, ever again but here you were, with the next several hours of your life stuck watching the man you ditched after a drunken one night stand in the very front row. He looked more put together than your last image of him, the tussled hair replaced by a careful side swoop and the fitted jersey giving him a fresher look compared to the suit he met you in. He seemed to enjoy the attention, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he marched out and waved languidly around the stadium.

You thanked the genius who separated the court and the seats into two floors, hiding you away with the distance even though you were sitting at the very front.

“Oh my god, he’s looking at this direction, he’s looking at this direction!” your friend’s vigorous tug at your sleeve brought your void gaze back to the court.

You were convinced that there was no way he could spot you from that far away. Hell, it was still up to question whether he could see any of the audience with all the lights shining onto his face. But for a moment, just a brief moment, you had a gut feeling that your eyes met in that split second when you looked down and his gaze stopped at right where you were.

“What are you looking at?” Hinata asked, turning his head to the direction Atsumu kept stealing glances at as they lined up in front of the net but saw nothing.

Atsumu shook his head, giving a laugh to pass off the moment when he lost his composure when he thought he saw the face he kept thinking of since that night in the crowd. It has got to be an illusion, he must have been blinded by the lights. Stupid lights, he cursed under his breath before turning to his teammate. “It was nothing,” he smiled, his gaze shifting to the corner he thought he saw you at before quickly snapping back to the court, “just... thought I saw someone I know.”

He did not look at you again throughout the game much to your relief. But this time, you found it hard to stop your eyes from following him around. You would like to argue that it was because you didn’t know any of the other players and the way your friend kept gushing whenever he did something made it hard for you to ignore him but the way he seemed to flourish on court. Something inside of you jumped whenever he scored a point and the live cameras panned up at his face again, showing the satisfied grin and slanted eyes plastered on him. He did what he does so well and with so much confidence and for some reason, that explained to you just why you decided to leave with him that night at the club in the strangest way possible.

He was, still, very good-looking even under the lights and under your sober judgement, perhaps even more so than your blurry memory of how he looked like with a flushed face. But the true hit to your chest was when the entire stadium was watching him as he got to the serving position, taking strides forward before raising his hand to the air.

The world stopped when the entire ground fell to silence at his command, and you took a deep, shaky inhale when you thought of how this person had kissed you again and again on a drunken night until you were both out of breath.

Atsumu was almost 99.9% sure he truly did see you when the match ended.

That last 0.1% was deducted because it was a really good match ending with a win for the Black Jackals and as hot-headed as he could be, he knew better than to believe everything that his adrenaline-filled brain was trying to tell him. But with the spotlights of the stadium dimmed and his full attention no longer required on the court, Atsumu looked straight at where he was sure you had sat the moment the stadium doors opened and people started leaving. It was a blurry glance, just a quick in and out of his vision but he was sure he saw you slipping out of the front row before disappearing into the stairs.

He knew he could still be wrong, but the sudden realisation that he might be the closest to you now than he would ever be again left him frozen in the middle of the court as he stared blankly at the exit. Reporters were starting to gather around the players and his presence was expected, but his legs started moving before the call of his name by the rest of his team could land on his ear.

Pushing through the crowd, the gasps and shocked chatters of the guests who saw the player they just watched dashing out the stadium were none of his concern. All he cared about was to run faster, faster, past the hall and past the people of the stalls that were packing up. He might have just mistaken someone else for you and if it really was you, you might have already left before he could get to the front entrance of the stadium but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you had been there and if he ran fast enough, there was still a chance that his search all along would not be in vain.

Miya Atsumu was not exactly a believer of fate or a divine destiny but as he stumbled with tired legs down the steps of the grand glass door, he silently made a bet with the beings he wasn’t sure were truly there that if he missed you this time, he would take the defeat that your paths were not meant to cross again and give up.

And the beings, who Atsumu believed was actually there for the first time ever, answered his calls.

“Wait!”

Your feet planted into the concrete when you heard a yell behind you. Your jaw dropped when you hesitantly turned around to see him, whose name you now know thanks to the match, stopping just a few steps away from you with his hands on his knees, seemingly out of breath with his arm reached out. His eyes widened when he looked up and saw that you had stopped there, and you were exactly who he thought you might be. He was heaving, sweat drenching his face but he still took a few stumbled steps towards you until he was right in front of you.

A few words fell out of his mouth but were cut short by his panting. Your head was still not reacting when he finally managed to stand back up, looking right at you even as his breathing stayed erratic.

What does one say to a one night stand that they ditched right when the morning comes?

“So,” you blurted, trying to ignore the heat on your face and the anxiousness in your chest, “not a big shot, huh?”

He let out a snort, his voice cracking as he ran his hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that was starting to get into his eyes. He could finally take the time to look at you now, after confirming that you would not disappear if he did so little as blink.

You were gorgeous, and suddenly all the things he had wanted to say to you sounded ridiculously stupid.

I tried to look for you.

“You left your ring at my place,” he said, his voice still shaking from the sprint he took, growing softer and softer with each word that came out.

“Oh,” you replied, nodding stiffly to try and brush away your nerves.

“Yeah,” he nodded too, and opened his mouth again after taking a gulp to swallow down the knot at the back of his throat, “we should arrange a time to meet so you can take it back from me.”

“Oh,” you stood just a little straighter, “but-”

But it was just one of the five I got in a pack so it really, really didn’t matter that much.

“You said,” he looked down, holding back a smile as he thought of what you had said to him, “you said your grandma made you swore to never lose it.”

He remembered.

“Yes,” you pressed your lips together to stop the chuckle from coming out, “yes I was.”

“So you should come and get it back from me,” he suggested, the last note of his sentence going up as if he wasn’t sure of himself either.

“Yeah,” he beamed when you smiled sheepishly, “I should.”

“Ok good, good,” he murmured in joyful disbelief, grinning ear to ear. The grin faded suddenly when he thought of one very important thing he had forgotten to do last time and must not forget this time.

“Can I have your name?”

You burst out into laughter. “You can have my number too, if that’s what you want,” you mused, “Miya.”

A rush of heat washed through his face at the sound of his name out of your mouth. He would die if you call him by his first name later on, he was sure of it.

“Yes,” he said almost embarrassingly fast, “yes I would love that. I-” he groaned when he realised that he still had his phone in his jacket that was left in the locker room.

“Wait for me here,” he had already started walking backwards, snapping towards you with his hand out as he added in panic, “don’t go anywhere!”

You still hadn’t stopped laughing when he sprinted back into the stadium again like his life depended on it.

Bonus

Miya Atsumu deleted all of the posts he made during his search for you the moment he added your contacts into his phone, but what he did not count was that there were other people who would preserve those precious memories for him.

It was a few weeks after he caught up to you in front of the stadium and several days after your relationship went public. Your friend had nearly torn your eardrums apart when they learnt that you were the mysterious person they had been hunting after but overall, dating Atsumu had been great, even to the point where you thought it was so stupid of you to run away from him in the first place.

You got a notification that someone direct messaged you on instagram as you were getting ready for a date night.

It was not someone you know but there was a verification mark next to his username. Clicking into his profile, you assumed that it must be one of Atsumu’s friends in the volleyball circle when you saw the line saying “EJP Raijin middle blocker”.

“Hi, I’m Suna, I was on the same high school team as your boyfriend was. I don’t think we have met but I’m sure we will be very good friends.”

Before you could manage to type out a reply, he sent you multiple pictures and you paused as they loaded, wondering what Atsumu’s old high school teammate might send you.

You blinked when the pictures finally finished loading, and silently dialed your boyfriend’s number.

“Do you have something you forgot to tell me about what you have done in order to try and find me online?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu imagines

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miyuwuki · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I'm not the one who requested "prioritizing happiness" but I really loved it! Can I request part 2, time skip where they meet again and go back together because they couldn't stop loving each other🥺. Also, thank you so much, I'm in love with your account♥️♥️

omg!! i would love to write a part 2 for prioritizing happiness! :)

part one can be found here

warnings: slight angst

miyuki kazuya x reader

prioritizing happiness (pt. 2)

it’s been years since then.

it’s been years since you left that door, forever leaving the man you once called the love of your life, behind. yet it was the only thing that remained on the back of your mind every single day; you’ve graduated college, got an amazing job, yet when you’re reminded of the events that took place, your feelings came crashing back on you all over again. you’ve had your fair shares of relationships throughout the years, and even an engagement, but you couldn’t devote yourself to anyone when you were still thinking about miyuki.

and you won’t lie, you self indulge by watching the mlb just to see the pretty boy take his place as the best catcher. no matter what happened in the past, he was coolest when he was on the field, and those burning eyes is one of the things you loved most about him. which is why one of your coworkers offered you a ticket to the game this weekend— everyone knew how you kept up with the mlb (more than anyone ever did in your workplace) and you were in no position to deny.

“y/n! do you want this extra ticket to the game this weekend? i don’t really keep up with baseball, and i’m not sure who else i should give it to.” as much as you wanted to refuse out of embarrassment, you were quite intrigued into watching a game in person— not to say, but it also gave you an opportunity to see him again. it’s not like he’d notice you amongst the crowd of a thousand people, so watching it from afar wouldn’t hurt, right?

“i mean sure, if no one else wanted it.” your coworker handed the ticket to you, your eyes lightly shining at the piece of paper in your hands. your heart was beating so fast, too excited before the game even started. “thank you so much for this,” you said, bowing to them.

your coworker chuckled, “glad it didn’t go to waste! enjoy your time.”

soon enough, the weekend came by and you were standing in front of the entrance of koshien stadium where the game was being held. you were nervous, and you didn’t get as much sleep the night before due to the jitters. and out of paranoia of bumping into miyuki, you wore a cap, sunglasses, and a mask as a disguise. you facepalmed at yourself in your head, maybe i shouldn’t have came..

but it was too late for that as you were already ambling your way up the bleachers, taking a seat around the middle area. you had a couple snacks packed and a huge bottle of water as it was pretty hot today. left and right were hundreds of people, and you even saw a group of high schoolers with miyuki’s face on their shirts. you chuckled and turned to the centre where you saw the players go to their proper dugouts, and without even knowing, you were trying to look for a certain someone.

and there he was, putting on his gear and chatting with his teammates. he’s gotten a little more mature, his features a bit more prominent and his undercut shaved. you could hear the drums of your heart through your ears as you saw miyuki walk onto the field. all the people starting cheering on his appearance, and you couldn’t help but smile too under your mask. the announcer went in between the two teams and yelled, “bow! let the game begin!”

the day went by and soon the bright blue skies were replaced by the oranges of the sunset. the game was so close and so intense that you had to get up a couple times, but nevertheless miyuki’s team won.

you stayed behind, watching the people leave the stadium. you felt so nostalgic, reminiscing about the times you would watch miyuki’s games back in high school. you inhaled the air of the empty stadium, taking off your hat, sunglasses, and mask. the breeze was slightly chilly, but it felt nice as it went through the roots of your hair. you closed your eyes, focusing onto that sentiment of the old days. “ah, to go back..” you said into the winds, letting the weather relax your whole being.

“y/n, is that you?”

what..?

that familiar voice. that familiar feeling. that familiar everything; it all came rushing back by the second of that moment. your heartbeat was getting loud again, and your head felt hazy, not knowing what to do. you opened your eyes towards the sound that called your name, and there he was, standing right in front of you.

“kazuya?”

“y/n, what are you doing here?” miyuki asked, dropping his bags below him. he couldn’t believe it either— couldn’t believe that you were here again right in front of him. if you thought you couldn’t get rid of the thought of the things that happened, then you should take a look at him, because he thought about you every second of the day; during his practices, during his games— not a minute passed by when he wasn’t thinking of you.

your breath got caught in your throat, fearing that this would’ve happened; maybe not this exact situation, but bumping into him. “hey kazuya,” you croaked, a lump forming in the core of your throat.

“you came to watch the game?” he quietly questioned, taking a seat next to you. he ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

“uh, yeah. my coworker had an extra ticket and i figured why not..” you replied, feeling awkward. you fidgeted in your seat, a clear indication that you weren’t sure what to do from here. did you even want to talk to miyuki? what were you even supposed to say?

“what are you doing here, kazuya?” you asked, “shouldn’t you be heading home?”

he replied, “i usually like sitting in the empty stadium after each game. it brings me back to the old days.”

and there it was again, that awkward silence that acted as a barrier between the two of you. your head started to hurt, and you started to think about all the memories you had with him. shit.

“y/n-”

“you played well, kazuya,” you said, interrupting him. you got up and packed your things, wanting to leave before you started to yearn for more than you should. if you didn’t get out, who knows what could happen? “i need to get going. good job today, kazuya. take care.” but before you could even get past him, he grabbed your arm and turned you around, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“kazuya! what are you doing—”

and with that, he roughly places his lips on yours, causing your knees to be weak and tremble with anxiety. he wrapped his arm around your waist, giving you support so you wouldn’t fall, and kissed even deeper into your own pair. shocked, you push him off, wiping the wetness of his lips with your hand.

“what was that for, idiot?!” you exclaimed, panting. the shadow of miyuki’s hair casted over his eyes, “i still love you, y/n.” he whispered, not looking up at you. but it was barely even audible, so you replied with a, “what? what did you say?”

then, miyuki looked up at you, his brown orbs burning with sensation. the same pairs that you loved so deeply. it caught you off guard, but you held your stance, waiting to repeat what he said.

“i still love you, y/n, and i never stopped. not after that day, not after we graduated— i’m so fucking in love with you still and i don’t know how to stop.”

your eyes widened, not registering what he just said. he still loves me? “cut the crap, kazuya..”

“y/n, i was a stupid high schooler who didn’t know any better,” miyuki continued, “but gosh, i never thought i’d see the day where i’d run into you again.”

beads of tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, mixed with emotions that you didn’t understand yourself. were you happy? angry? irritated? well, whatever it was, you couldn’t hold it in, and you could only move forward with it.

“kazuya..” you mumbled, “kazuya i—”

“you don’t have to answer, but i never stopped loving you y/n, and this just confirms it even more. you standing here right in front of me just makes me not want to let go.”

sigh, what’s there to lose anymore? you’re all he’s got, and the same went for you.

as the water began to run down your cheeks, you hugged him, burying your face into his shoulder. “i never stopped loving you either, kazuya. i never stopped thinking about you.”

miyuki’s heart pumped, looking at your figure perfectly fitted into his. he felt his shirt getting wet from your tears and felt the slight shivers you were giving off. he slowly wrapped his arms around you, getting a good embrace on your body. “y/n.. i’m so sorry for what happened before. i am so so sorry.” you nodded instead of speaking, too afraid to sound like an idiot when you were crying so hard. you hugged him tighter, a sign to tell him that it was okay, and that all that mattered was that he was there.

on the field he was the pretty boy catcher, miyuki kazuya, but on the outside he was now yours again; i mean, he always was yours.

“i’ll never let you go again, y/n. i promise. let’s talk about this at my place.”

EPILOGUE

“kazuya, i’m home!” you yelled, entering the threshold of your shared home with the love of your life. kazuya peeked out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding your little boy koya.

“dinner’s almost ready.” kazuya said, putting koya down. “this little guy’s been helping me in the kitchen.” your son ran up to you, going straight into your arms where he snuggled into your chest. you picked him up and swung him around, making his glasses fall just on the tip of his nose. you giggled and placed a kiss on his soft cheek, “koya’s been helping dad to cook? how sweet.” you teased, putting on his glasses properly. “pretty boy koya.”

a sudden wave of joy washed over you, content of the peak of your life. having a beautiful family, having an amazing job, all while spending it with the person you loved most. love hurts, and it uses a lot of our tears and brings out the worst; yet it is so beautiful, and in the end if it was meant to be, it will be.

“i love you, kazuya.”

“mm, i love you too.”

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS SEQUEL, ANON! i was planning to keep prioritizing happiness just as one part, but i got carried away with this. i enjoyed writing this, thank you :)

also update: finished the daiya anime! i am empty.

#diamond no ace #daiya no ace #dna #daiyadaily #daiya x reader #diamond no ace x reader #kazuya miyuki #miyuki kazuya #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #kazuya miyuki x reader #kominato haruichi #kuramochi youichi #sawamura eijun #i love him #seido

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xhisokas-harleyx · 3 years

Note

Helloo! I don't know if i can just request something, if requests are close or something please just ignore it sorry qwq

What do you think Hisoka's reaction would be if he saw Reader in yk,,,, maid outfit or "cat" outfit idk what they called. Like ears+tails. Who knows why, maybe they just wanted have fun and dear someone never knocks 🙄 ilovethismfsomuchistg- Anyways, wishing you a good day or night! 💛

Thanks so much for your request, sorry it took so long. I hope you still find this!

(hope you don’t mind that I sort of ran with this one!)

Warnings: sensuality themes, absolute PAMPERING of your man Hisoka. I mean, serious spoiling kink. Body worship

Enjoy 😊

Hisoka x Reader: Kitten

word count: 2700

Well… you were a sight, that much was certain.

Your eyes danced over your form as you twirled in the bathroom mirror, appreciating your bare thighs in the short kitty dress you were wearing. Your black tail swayed along with your hips, your lace gloved hands placing the kitty-eared headband atop your crown. Your bust was showing through the skimpy black material, and the size of it barely allowed your rump to be covered with a thin ruffly layer of fabric. It was promiscuous and you weren’t sure it was your style… but if Hisoka picked it out for you, you were open to the idea.

Well, technically you’d stolen this item from him, but something told you he wasn’t going to mind.

As you’d been cleaning your and Hisoka’s shared apartment earlier that day, you had unassumingly stumbled upon one of Hisoka’s hidden treasures when you were dusting under the bed. There, beneath the box-spring, you’d discovered a white container which looked as if it hadn’t been touched. Normally you’d never go snooping around in Hisoka’s stuff (not that he had a lot of stuff to snoop in anyway), but because you hadn’t seen it before, curiosity had gotten the better of you.

When you opened the box to reveal the cat maid outfit, your jaw dropped, your mind baffled and scrambling for an explanation. However, it was obvious, right? It was for you, who else would it be for? It made sense- one of his favorite things to call you was kitten… you could hear his lusty voice coo it in your mind even now. But you had no idea he could take things so literally!

You’d been wanting to spoil Hisoka for a while now. He’d been coming back hurt and exhausted from his strenuous missions with Illumi, and although you could tell he wanted to spend time with you, he was always being whisked away to fight his next foe. Many times, he didn’t even get to sleep before the next mission called him. Your little discovery had given you an idea, and currently you were planning it carefully in your head. You figured you had at least a few hours before he-

“So, you found your birthday present.” Hisoka’s voice startled you, and you wheeled around, amazed at how silent he could be stalking up behind you like that. Your face turned bright red- whatever chance you had to back out before was gone now. You took in the tattered appearance of your boyfriend, complete with blood on his face.

“MY birthday present?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip sassily, and cocking your body to the side. Hisoka loved your normal fiery attitude, which could go toe to toe with his own sarcastic and sharp tongue. He knew you still had a soft side, that desire to be sweet to him, but with how far apart you’d been recently, he hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Hisoka chuckled as he captured you in the cage of his arms, his nose burying in the crook of your neck and breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“Fine, you got me… it’s really MY present.” Hisoka smirked against your neck, already parting his lips to nibble leisurely on your exposed skin. Even in his words and his voice, though they were passionate and fervent, you could sense his exhaustion. The cuts that littered his exposed arms worried you, and in a moment, you drew back, looking up into his golden gaze. Bags were beginning to form under his eyes, and although they held a hungry gleam, you could tell he was close to collapsing.

The sight of you in this outfit, however, had him teeming with excitement despite his need for rejuvenation.

“How many times have I told you not to rummage through my things, y/n? Tsk, Tsk.” Hisoka grinned widely, his own catty eyes monitoring your body hungrily. He dearly appreciated your bust peeking through the fabric, your perfectly shaped thighs accentuated by the half white laced stockings, and the collar around your neck with a small bell that showed how possessive he was of you. If you’d paid even the slightest bit of attention when putting it on, you’d have noticed your name engraved on the metal tag. Of course, it was his plan all along for you to find this little secret, and you could sense that he was trying to be his normal difficult self in denying that fact.

“How many times have a told you not to hide things from me?” You fired back, causing him to withdraw and place a spread hand over his chest.

“Ouch. It seems you’re really in character tonight, kitten.”

His use of the nickname made your blood boil, and your aura pique a little at his purposeful insult of your methods. You wondered what his undercut insult truly meant to call you, but you allowed it to slide. For as much as he could be insufferable, you still had a deep desire to please your lover.

“And…” He just had to continue, his words grating on your nerves just as he wanted. “…since you’re already dressed the part, why don’t you get to cleaning?”

You felt enraged at his comment, for a moment letting your anger get the better of you and distract you from your goal. “I-I’ve been slaving over this house all day, what is there left to clean?!” As soon as the words left your lips, however, you realized you ‘d played right into his trap.

Hisoka’s thin eyebrow kicked as if he was surprised that you don’t know... but as soon as you saw his expression, you got the idea.

“Me, of course,” He reiterated anyway, a sly grin painting his features.

Little did he know, you already had quite the plan in mind for him- and it was something not even he had anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~

After promptly shoving him from the bathroom, you began to set up. You’d requested that he give you ten minutes to set up for him, but knowing how impatient the bastard could be, you swiftly tried to get it done in five. Lit candles were scattered throughout the bathroom, the tub in the center of the room being filled with hot water, almost scalding, just how you knew he liked it. Evening light filtered through the sole window in the room, painting the water and floor tiles with an orange cast. You scattered some bath salts into the water, as well as some cotton candy scented bubble solution, which you knew he loved.

That’s when he came barging through the door, smirk on his face, without so much as asking for your permission. You half expected him to be naked, but he still wore his tattered clothes, and you figured he was just that tired. But as he took in the surroundings before him, his eyes widened, and he seemed surprised that you’d been able to do so much in such a small amount of time.

“…” He didn’t say anything, and you quickly assumed your role in his relaxation before he got the chance to question your motives.

“All for you, Hisoka, my darling.” You threw in a small bow, playing the part of a maid just as you’d practiced in your mind. “I hope that everything is to your liking, my king.”

That nickname made him realize how touch-starved he felt in that moment, but he swallowed the urge to foil your little game so quickly.

Seeming to realize he was visibly gawking, Hisoka closed his mouth and smirked, sauntering forward and reaching for the hem of his shirt to peel it off. Though he couldn’t bring himself to say so outwardly, he was very taken aback that, contrasting with your earlier fire, you’d gone to this much trouble on his behalf. Part of him wanted to patronize you and make you angry, but the other wanted to see when this attitude was taking him.

“Let me help you with that.” You floated forward, dropping your voice an octave to reflect the sensual atmosphere you were painting with your environment. Your hands moved expertly to the bottom of his skintight purple undershirt, where your nimble fingers ghosted just under the fabric, grazing the V-line of his pelvis as you began to slowly remove his shirt.

Hisoka allowed you to do so, but he seemed dazed by how angelic and feathery your touch could be. The skin of his chest burned with passion as you pulled his shirt above his head for him, fingertips grazing tepidly over each muscle as you discarded it to the side. The care you touched him with was something he was unaccustomed to- typically when you touched him, you made it clear exactly what you wanted from him. His gaze was intent on your face, and while you could feel him staring, you paid no mind to it and moved onto his pants.

You coyly shimmied the elastic waistband carefully over his hips, ensuring that the magician would be mesmerized by your slight of hand illusions and the ability to make his worries disappear. It was as if you were the only thing grounding him at this moment, as his breathing picked up.

"There...” You dropped to the ground submissively as you beckoned him to step out of his bloodstained trousers, and along with them you trashed his underwear to the side. You ignored his obvious excitement as you reached up again to touch his thighs.

Hisoka’s breath hitched in his throat as your gloved hands traced the detailed lines of his muscular legs, praising and appreciating every mark and every muscle, your eyes remaining in sharp contact with his all the while. You were numb with appreciation at this point, and you let it show in your every motion.

“Look at you… you are so perfect.” You purred up at him, pushing past the moan he accidentally let slip. “Your body is so gorgeous. Every muscle, every mark, every feature is something that should be admired.”

His mind was a wasteland, driven by his willingness to let you talk him up, edge him closer to snapping just with your words. He had a shameless kink to withhold his own pleasure until his very breaking point, and you were unknowingly expertly fulfilling that desire.

~Oh, don’t look at me like that, y/n… you know I just can’t contain it…~

Hisoka’s body truly was like a finely chiseled sculpture, and it made you so pleased to worship him as you felt he deserved. Even if he felt like he needed to cover his imperfections with Texture Surprise, you always had a way of letting him know you appreciated his scars and flaws. Positive affirmations hadn’t been a part of the magician’s life before you came along, but this was on an entirely new level, it was delicacy, fragility, like he couldn’t comprehend.

“Now, if you’ll just step to the tub.” Hisoka did as you asked, his hand moving into yours, and you helped your man step into the scalding water, watching as he sank down into the tub, coloring the water pink with residual blood.

“Well, Well.” Hisoka snickered as he fully relaxed in the tub, and it seemed he’d gotten his spunk back. “What’s gotten into you, y/n? What game are you playing with me, hmm, kitten? You’re not usually this... eager to please me.” His voice was like honey, his eyes closing as he began to soak. You kneeled, and took your position just behind him, sitting on the floor where you could easily access his body from outside the tub.

Your small, heated laugh sent chills up his spine, because you sent it right into his ear, as your now bare hands began to trace his chest. “And why shouldn’t I be? You are THE Hisoka Morrow. You are the most powerful man around… you deserve this.” You got some soap in your hands, beginning to wash the dirt and dried blood away from his body in circular motions. You did mean your words- while you two loved to play fight, you did have a deep, almost obsessive adoration for Hisoka, and knowing that you could serve him like this was a major turn on.

Hisoka shuddered when your compliments continued into his ear, your teeth grazing up his neck, and to his earlobe, where you nibbled lightly. His body was submitting to your touch, his tense nature flowing out of him as you placed him under your spell.

“You’re so good to me… I’m so lucky to have a guy like you.”

You were being so submissive and serving that Hisoka thought you might have been under some mind control or something. This was like a fantasy come true for the magician- of course he feels like he deserves this kind of treatment from you. He ate up your compliments, they made his ego (and something below the water) grow to painful size. What you were saying was all true, of course. He is the great Hisoka Morrow, and you belong to him. Why shouldn’t you worship him like a God?

But as it played out before him, your reverse psychology got the better of him- and Hisoka ended up being the one questioning his worthiness. He expected you to get mad and retort at him, but you were dedicated to showing him how you truly felt.

He had the tendency to be so brash- sometimes he came home and ravaged your body before even saying hello- that was how strong his hunger was for you. But tonight, you had the ability to read the situation, and knew this care, this pampering, was exactly what he needed to recover.

“Let’s get that face, hm?” You nearly moaned, scooping some makeup remover into your palm and beginning to massage the faded paint from his soft, pale cheeks. Your hands moved back toward his hair, fingertips spreading over his scalp as you massaged. But this seemed to be the final straw for Hisoka, because he startled you by grabbing your wrist with such force that you thought he might snap it. You yelped helplessly as his golden eyes flew open and looked into yours directly, as if he were feasting on your soul. You could feel the weight of his aura rising, your sensual touch becoming too much for him to handle.

You knew that look; you’d seen it countless times before. His honeyed irises reflected a deep lust, accentuated by the offset of his tongue on his bottom lip. Your normal reaction would have been to struggle against him- but you submitted to his will, letting Hisoka’s hand pull yours back to his chest… and then lower.

All was silent as you allowed him to force your wrist below the waterline- and you tried to hide your panic when you realized where the magician was leading your hand. His traced his own V-line with your splayed fingertips, as if teasing himself just along the edges of the pleasure he so desired.

“Hisoka- you’re not being any fun.” You stopped him finally, your orbs reflecting a sense of disappointment, when he let go of your hand reluctantly, but not your gaze. He knew you’d truthfully be more than happy to oblige him- he made sure to guide you toward his end goal.

“You’ve had your fun… and now, I want to have you. This was always the outcome, y/n.” He droned dangerously, relaxing into the tub for a moment longer before he sat up, bringing himself to a standing position once again.

His words broke your resolve into shards, and a small moan escaped your plump lips as your tongue grazed across them. He stood up, confidently putting his manhood at your eye level, droplets of water cascading down his glowing body that was bathed liberally in the setting sunlight.

“I believe it’s your turn to get cleaned, kitten… But let’s get dirty, first.” With that, he snickered evilly, and pulled you into the tub, eager to put your newfound submissiveness to the test.

~FIN~

I likeddd this one :3

Hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment!

#y/n x hisoka #hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka hxh #hisoka morow #hunter x hunter #hxh 2011 #hxh #reader insert

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yesokaythatsfine69 · 3 years

Text

The Beach (Levi Ackerman x reader)

Description: During the beach scene in attack on titan. I changed this scene a bit because I felt it could be more light hearted and more fun after the cut. So be aware that it may not be that exact scene (in terms of what gets said) but roughly the same idea.

Characters: Y/n, Levi, Hange, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Connie

Pov: third person

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and just chill vibes.

A/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVI ACKERMAN! Hello! As of right now I'll be focusing the next several pieces on AOT. This is the third and the final piece I'll be writing about Levi. Feel free to request any Levi Ackerman writings at any time though. Have a good read!

Word Count:

Song suggestion: This has nothing to do with this piece but I've been jamming to Judas by Lady Gaga so if ur not a nerd listen to it.

*none of the Gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker

The dust that Scout's horses picked up enclosed around them, swallowing them up in a thick cloud of brown. The air was similarly thick around them.

Her hands were shaking, clutching the reigns of her horse, pulling them close to her chest. Y/n wasn't scared though. The things she'd experienced in the almost four years since she'd joined the scouts had changed what the concept of fear was for her. She felt tense- anxiety ridden. She felt like something was about to happen, and the way Eren spoke- it definitely was.

They passed a wall, and Eren's voice cut through the long silence. "I'm sure of it. This is the place where they turned the Eldians titan, which means just up there."

He beckoned them on, rushing his horse forward. Armin swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting y/n's for a beat. They shared a look, that displayed their mutual concerns before it broke.

Y/n had kept close to Armin, whose presence often calmed her. It was strange, but Armin never hid his emotions or disguised his fear (something her friends did so often.) And there was comfort in that. It made her feel less vulnerable.

Levi often teased her for that- but she knew he respected their friendship. Y/n looked to where he rode ahead of her. His hands were steady, expression focused. It unnerved her how he could be so calm.

She blinked away her focus, returning her gaze back to looking straight ahead. Eren led the group to what appeared to be a cliff, and when they reached the top...they saw.

The group seemed to all stop at once, realizing what they found. It was silent, except for the blowing of the waves before them. It was water- the ocean. They all stared, stunned.

Sasha and Connie had mutual expressions of open mouth wonder. Y/n just stared, aghast. Eren on the other hand looked unsurprised and almost bored.

One by one they slipped off the backs of their horses, most rolling up their pant legs and trodding into the water.

Y/n did a little dance in the water, laughing as Connie playfully splashed Sasha in the eyes. Sasha screamed in pain, "my eyes!" After she recovered, she splashed Connie back. Or tried to. At the last second Connie ducked and the salty sea spray hit y/n dead in the face instead.

"Sasha!" Her friend giggled sheepishly. Y/n tackled her into the water, the two becoming completely soaked. Connie chuckled at their antics, pointing his index finger at them with his right hand and keeping his left to his chest. The two girls shared a mischievous look which caused Connie's laughter to die out immediately.

"Take him down!" "Hiya!" Working in sync the two tackled him into the water. The three resurfaced and giggled at each other's soaked expressions. "It's so salty!" Jean was a few paces ahead of them and had just drank some of the water.

"Jean what the fuck. You really need to stop putting things into your mouth if you don't know what's in them." Y/n stood up, twisting her hair to relieve it of some water. Raising a brow, Jean leaned towards her. "Says the girl deep diving into it. Armin says there's nothing in here but salt anyway, and besides someone was bound to drink from here. I just saved them the extra hassle." Y/n flicked water at him. "How gallant of you."

Eren's monologue interrupted them then, they way he sounded close to tears, his voice creaking at the last sentence begged for their concentration. "Will we finally be free?" No one spoke, whatever light mood that existed now diminished.

"way to kill the mood Jaeger." Jean muttered, but he seemed just as solemn as Eren. "Don't worry, I'll lighten it up." Y/n shoved Jean down, and into the water. He landed with a surprised yelp and everyone turned, broken out of their private misery.

"Really y/l/n!" Jean spat, his cheeks dusted with blush. Y/n giggled, until she was cut off by Jean grabbing her and pulling her down into the water. "Shit!" She gasped out, landing in the water beside him.

"Are you serious! Jean, I just rang out my hair!" Jean opened his mouth to retort when sasha and Connie interrupted, shouting "Dog pile!" Jean and Y/n's eyes widened. "No!" "Wait-!" As Kenny once said, kaboom.

Now, all four of them were completely soaked, but none of them really cared. They bursted out laughing, each pointing at one another in amusement. The reflex seemed almost unnatural- it'd been so long since her last belly laugh. Connie, Sasha, and Jean felt similar and the tears they shed weren't just from their chuckles, but something deeper.

Y/n left the three to splash each other, waddling over to Armin, Mikasa, and Eren. Eren still looked off into the horizon but the tenseness in his shoulders seemed lighter. "What do you have there, Armin." She spoke softly to her friend, marveling at the shell he had gently lying in his palms. "Some sort of shell..." His gaze met hers. "I'm sure there have to be hundreds here." Y/n smiled.

"Did you think it'd be like this? Big, breezy, and beautiful?" Armin looked up, looking beyond Eren. "Maybe something close...I just never expected to actually see it...let alone feel it." They shared another look before they turned to Mikasa. She had gotten closer to Eren, but her gaze was in the water. She was kicking at it, her expression unreadable.

"hmmm." Y/n hummed, tapping her chin. She took off, running past Eren and to the left of him. "Hey! Y/l/n, don't go out too far!" Levi called after her. At the left edge, she stopped, bending down and searching fervently in the waters.

"There must be hundreds..."she mumbled to herself, brow furrowed in concentration. "Ah hah!" She straightened, a single white shell lying in the palm of her hand. She ran back, to armin, mikasa, and Eren. She skidded to a stop directly in front of Mikasa, who gave her an amused look.

Y/n dropped to a knee, sticking up her palm. "For my favorite Ackerman!" "Oi!" Levi grunted from behind her and Mikasa blushed. "Thank you, y/n." The young girl smiled, gently picking up the shell. "You are my favorite y/l/n." Y/n crossed her arms. "I'm the only y/l/n." Mikasa smiled a bit brighter.

Eren had turned towards them, snapping out of his gaze from the unusual commotion. He had watched the two interact and the way Mikasa had gently lifted the shell and just as gently cradled it caused the corner of his lips to upturn.

Y/n noticed. "I can find you one too, Eren. Although I'm afraid finding one as pretty as Armin's is impossible and thus out of the question." Eren softened and shook his head. "No, thank you, y/n." She stood up from her position, and was immediately wrapped in a quick hug from Mikasa.

"Oh! What's this?" Hanje lifted something reminiscent of a burnt rock from the water, gently rubbing her fingers over it. Y/n drew closer, allowing Hanje to explain all of the oddities she found. Y/n nodded along, only half understanding what her friend was ranting about.

Finally Hanje gasped with delight- cutting herself off. "there's more over here!" She pranced away from y/n, pausing several steps away and bending down to search for more.

Finally y/n turned to Levi, who had already been watching her. He seemed so out of place it was funny. His arms were crossed and he looked disinterested...but y/n knew that he was just uncomfortable. They watched each other, taking their differences in.

Really Levi couldn't believe how different two people could be. There y/n stood, a breeze sifting through her hair, her entire outfit completely soaked, and a stupid grin on her face. She was some brat- he'd admit it.

"You're going to get sick, y/n." She smiled, wading through the low tide to where he stood. "You'd love the chance to take care of me." "Tch, I deal with you enough as is." The two had shortened the distance between each other.

The wind ruffled his undercut. "It's a lot less scary than it looks." Y/n gently nudged him with her shoulder. "I'm not scared." Levi gave her a sharp look and anyone one else would've slinked away, but y/n wasn't anyone else- especially not to Levi.

Gently she took his hand in hers, squeezing it softly. He narrowed his eyes, the silver orbs twinkling against the sunset. He interlaced his fingers with her own though, his deep admiration for y/n often undermined his "tough guy" resolve.

Y/n smiled at him, "Okay old man are you going to roll up those pants or will I have to?" Levi sighed, grumbling under his breath as he bent down. "If I get sick from this-" she rolled her eyes. "Levi it's water. The thing you bathe in, clean with, drink. You will not get sick."

He pulled a sock off. "Tch, I once saw you find a piece of uneaten bread hidden behind books in the library, and watched you eat it without question. I don't believe anything you say about what's healthy and what's not, brat." Y/n helped him fold his socks neatly next to his shoes. "That was one time!" He paused. "And it's scarred into my memory."

Again, y/n rolled her eyes. However, the smile on her never even flinched. She grabbed Levi's hand and yanked him forward. He gasped, but y/n only sped up. "Oi, oi, oi, wait! You're going to fast, we'll-" They splashed into the water, splashing it up to their faces.

Levi's eyes were wide, and he seemed absolutely at a loss for what to do with himself. Finally he met her gaze, and saw how she looked at him. Levi felt his cheeks flush. "Tch, fine it's not as bad as I thought." He turned to leave, but she yanked him back to her.

"hey, hey, hey mateo, mateo." She pulled him so that his side was resting against her, he turned back to y/n. "Stay awhile." She said gently. Her smile had changed now, and Levi noticed. His shoulders relaxed. He realized now why this was so important to her. This could be the last chance they had.

Then she kicked water at him.

"Y/n!" She laughed and backed deeper into the water. "You may be humanity's greatest titan fighter..." She began to move her arms around wildly. "But I am humanity's greatest Levi Ackerman fighter." Levi sighed, unamused. "You got water on my pants!" He moved towards her.

"The target approaches, seemingly irritated." She backed away. "Tch, Seemingly?" Levi's hand balled into fists. "He's going deeper into enemy territory, what will y/n do?" "Y/n should run." Levi got closer.

He jumped at her, and she tackled him, the two landing into the water. Once again y/n became instantly soaked, and Levi was now in the same boat, wet completely from head to toe. "It is salty!" Levi gasped out, his arms still wrapped around y/n. "Did you think we were all lying before?" Y/n laughed, watching as Levi struggled to get salty water from his eyes.

He pulled his fist from his eye, finally looking at y/n. She was soaked, probably more than he was, but she was as radiant as could be, her eyes shining, her smile wide, and her hair blowing softly. He stared at her several seconds, lost in how beautiful she was. Sometimes he had a difficult time believing that someone like her could ever be interested in someone like him. "I love you." He clutched her tighter to him.

Her face became more serious, and she closed her mouth. Y/n gently put a wet thumb on his cheek. "I love you too, Levi." They stayed there, in that moment together.

"and yet I'm only your second favorite Ackerman." Y/n sighed, going to pull away, but Levi grabbed her and to her surprise he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Levi and y/n turned, Connie, Sasha, Jean, Hanje, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa all stood over them.

"None of your business, brats." Levi said, crossing his arms. The group shared a glance. "Oh, no, guys wait-" Connie, Sasha, Jean, Hanje, and Mikasa attacked, jumping to tackle them, splashing and creating a mini hurricane.

Armin and Eren watched, still standing. Armin was smiling, whilst Eren's expression still remained cautious. The tension he had carried moments before abandoned him though, and it seemed as though now for the small moment they had, they all realized- only now could they truly live it.

Today was today and that was all they had for certain.

"There's water in a place where water should definitely not be!"

"Don't make me drown you!"

"Who's foot is this?"

"What's gonna happen when we leave? Will we still be wet?"

"GODDAMNIT I KEEP SWALLOWING IT! WHY DOES IT BURN!"

"you all are no match for my skills- I am unconquerable!"

"Yeah, I'm never doing this again."

Armin turned to Eren. "Sometimes... sometimes I believe that it'll never get better than this." He took a breath and Eren put a hand on his shoulder. "Right now...I think...I think you may be right, Armin."

--------------------------------------------------

A/n: hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this, feel free to request more Levi Ackerman or to give critism. Merry Christmas!

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#levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #aot imagines #aotc #aot x reader #aot memes #aot manga #aot headcanons #aotearoa #x reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #happy birthday levi

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

mango, m | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A love story between bad boy Jeon Jungkook and a strange girl with mango eating obsession.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental abuse and suicide; suggestive words/actions; alcohol consumption; mentions of nightmares plaguing the reader; non-idol!AU - university!AU; badboy!Jungkook x sociallyawkward!reader, ft bestfriend!Hoseok and friendly!Namjoon

Your head leaned against the wall of the library. Too many books around you, research paper already outlined for you seminar class. That was good. You only needed a partial outline next week and you would finish tweaking the outline tomorrow. You phone was open beside your papers, screen blaring at you.

Jungkook’s text, asking where you were. Your reply.

Library.

No further information. A guy like that probably never stepped foot in a library his entire life.

You closed your eyes. Placed your arms over your papers, sighing softly. You were in one of the study rooms in the upper floors of the library, where all the scientific journals were.

Why had you given him your phone number like that?

Self-destruction.

You turned your head the other way, eyeballs shifting under your closed lids.

Guys like that only cause self-destruction.

Your thumb ran over your glossy nails. You wondered if he would be mad at you for associating yourself with someone who looked dangerous and wild. Maybe he would tell you it was a bad idea. Maybe he could make you see reason. All you had to do was call him and ask for his opinion.

I’m sorry, Hoseok.

You ran your other thumb over the nails on your other hand. The little stickers caused raised bumps, but none of them had peeled off yet. You pressed your thumb down on one of them. At least he was still there, with you in this way.

A soft blackness swallowed you up, taking you into deep slumber.

Then, a coated sweetness pressed against your lips. A familiar taste. You opened your mouth and the thin, flat piece of dried fruit slid partway in. Your teeth stopped it. Spun it slowly with your tongue. Then it went into your mouth. Chewed.

Opened your eyes.

Jeon Jungkook, standing over you.

Holding a pack of dried mango. Eating a piece, his straight white teeth gnawing at it. Pink lips closing around the orange fruit. The mole under his lip danced with movement. His brown eyes were darker due to the harsh fluorescent overhead light. Tan skin glowing, black hair slicked back with too much gel, revealing his clean undercut. Leather blazer over a low-cut black t-shirt. Black jeans. Black backpack far too deflated to be holding much.

“Don’t know how you eat this stuff,” Jungkook said absentmindedly. He sat down on the chair next to you. Scooted closer. You could smell his cologne. Something sharp, but clean. “It’s not bad, but I couldn’t eat packs and packs of it like you.”

You lifted your head. “Habit.”

He nodded. “I noticed you do it whenever I talk to you.”

You chewed slowly.

“I don’t talk to people.”

“Hmm.”

He looked you over. Black turtleneck. Maroon oversized hoodie. Black flared miniskirt. Black opaque tights. Black boots with a ten-centimeter platform.

“What do you do for fun?”

You reached over and stuck your hand into the pack of dried mango. Picked a piece and placed it in your mouth. Sat back in your chair as you chewed on it.

“I don’t have fun.”

Jungkook sucked his teeth. It seemed like he was trying to unstick some candied fruit from them. “You seem like the creative type though. Moody and artistic.”

You shifted your eyes, staring into the bookshelves. “Creation is meaningless without an audience.”

Jungkook scratched his nose. “Maybe you just don’t want anyone to know what you’re thinking.”

You stopped chewing.

You turned your head to face Jungkook. He frowned at the packet of dried mango and placed it on the desk, sliding it to you. Then he noticed you staring at him. His lips curved into a slow, sly smile.

“You doing anything tonight?”

You didn’t go to parties.

Never. In your entire life. Not even a birthday party. You didn’t have birthday parties yourself either.

You only remembered beatings on your birthday.

You stood at the edge of the lawn, looking up at the large house. Too many people. Too much drinking. Too much danger. You reached into the center pocket of your maroon hoodie, pulling out a piece of dried mango. Slowly placing it in between your teeth. Spinning it. A couple was making out on the porch, pressed against the wall. Sucking the dried mango in your mouth. On the other side of the porch, a girl was slapping another guy and tossing the contents of a red plastic cup at him.

Chewed.

You shouldn’t have come. This wasn’t where you belonged.

A strong hand gripped your upper left arm. Familiar fingers. Long, strong ones, with small tattoos.

“How long you been standing out here?”

Alcohol on his breath.

“How much mango you consumed in that time?”

You held out an empty cellophane bag.

“Wow. Impressive.”

You chewed. The fingers let you go. They danced up your shoulder.

“You don’t seem to be bothered when I touch you.”

You swallowed.

“That’s because it’s obvious what you want.”

Jeon Jungkook chuckled. Deep and amused.

“But talking bothers you?”

You exhaled. Took out another piece.

“Words, intentional or not, leave everlasting scars far longer than a meaningless fuck.”

You placed it in between your teeth.

“Do you think it will be meaningless?” His voice was low, treacherous.

You paused. His fingertips balanced on the shoulder of your hoodie. A gust was wind made your black skirt flutter against your thighs. You felt nothing. Not cold, not hot. Nothing but those fingertips balanced on your shoulder. You sucked in the piece of mango and chewed. You could walk away. Not provoke him anymore and not try to walk through that fire.

You could back away and continue on your tightrope, high above.

But if you were already standing on this street, in front of this house, didn’t that mean your feet were already on the asphalt? Weren’t you already on the ground, wandering down that lost highway?

“There is no meaning in the arms of a stranger.”

You reached for your hoodie pocket again but his fingers wrapped around yours. Stopping you. Pulling you to him. Face shining in the moonlight, brows furrowed as he looked down at your face. Thick silver chain glinting at his throat. Dark hair slicked back but falling apart due to the events of the night. Eyes like the dark side of the moon.

He leaned down.

You could feel his breath against yours. Alcoholic, but somehow not unpleasant. It mixed with his sharp, clean cologne and the leather of his jacket. You saw his eyes flicker. He was really staring deeply into your eyes. He was as handsome as everyone said he was. You tilted your head at him.

Guys like him were always looking for a target. A puzzle to solve. The harder and more difficult it was, the better the thrill. That’s how it was and that’s how Jeon Jungkook was. So, you stood there. Waiting for him to do it.

Thing was, Jungkook wasn’t doing anything.

He finally backed off; expression unreadable. You pulled your hand out of his.

“Let’s go on a walk. I have to sober up.”

You looked from the house to him. He cocked his head. You two began to walk, stepping into the moonlight. Not touching each other, but walking side by side. The silence was deafening. He wasn’t speaking to you. Not even looking at you. You placed your earbuds into your ear and put on some violin music.

“What are you listening to?”

You jumped, surprised he noticed. Jungkook tilted his head at you. You handed him one of the Samsung buds. He placed it in his ear, tucking his hair back. Profile illuminated by the moon, nodded slowly at he listened.

And then you two walked, serenaded by violins.

Jungkook texted you and showed up in the library again. You were in the middle of writing your seminar research paper. To be honest, he was a welcome distraction. The scientific articles were giving you a headache.

He handed you a piece of dried mango before speaking.

“Let’s date.”

You blinked at him. Jungkook grabbed a seat and sat down, taking out a slice himself. You placed the piece of dried mango in your mouth and chewed slowly. He watched you the entire time, chewing with you, staring at your lips. You swallowed, sighing.

"Jungkook, you don't want to date me."

He nibbled at another piece of dried mango. "Pretty sure I do."

You took in a deep breath, feeling the annoyance rise in your chest. "Your body is the literal reincarnation of Adonis himself and you radiate bad boy vibes like nobody's business. You would ruin your image by dating the strange girl with a dried mango obsession."

Jungkook chewed slowly. "That's the first time your tone has changed with me."

You froze, realizing that too. Realizing that, for once, you were actually irate instead of being objective or apathetic about it. You were not making an ambiguous comment or philosophizing humanity. You were just stating what you were thinking straight up.

"And, anyway, you're the literal reincarnation of sex goddess Aphrodite herself, so there should be no problem if you're worried about looks."

"That's not..." You cut yourself off, not bothering to correct him. "You can barely see my body."

Jungkook's eyes traveled down to your legs. Your black pantyhose-covered legs, with your short red skirt and black hoodie. He reached out and grabbed your hand. You tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron.

"True, your skin is always covered," he mumbled.

Then Jungkook pressed your hand into his crotch.

Your eyes widened, feeling his semi-hard length in his jeans. He let go of your hand and you recoiled as if burned. Did he really just–?

He gnawed thoughtfully. "And yet every time I hear your voice, that happens to me."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sexual attraction is not a solid foundation to a relationship."

"It's not," Jungkook agreed, grabbing another piece of dried mango. Then his eyes flickered to you, dark and serious. "I just didn't like how you dismissed my physical attraction to you so easily." He went back to nibbling.

You looked away; ears hot. "In the end, all you want is to boast that you fucked me."

"That was my original intent, yes." You snapped your head back, furrowing your brows. Jungkook inspected the dried fruit, licking some sugar off. Your stomach flipped a little as you watched his pink tongue. "But now I want to take you on dates, hold your hand, and make you eat real meals that aren't only composed of candied mango."

You looked down at your lap. "I'm not a hand-holding kind of girl."

"Then I'll hold your ass."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. You glared at him, but he was smiling, popping the mango in his mouth.

"One date. And then we'll see how it goes."

You closed your eyes. Inhaled deeply. You could say no. You could refuse and tell him to leave you alone and never speak to him again. You could and maybe you should. Because once he knew... he would know. You chewed on your lip. Fear was an understatement. And you were afraid because you knew the truth. If there was a flame between you two, the truth would likely snuff it out.

Was that better or worse than you smothering it yourself?

"Before we go on a date," you said quietly but firmly. "I need to show you something."

“Okay. What is it that you have to show me?”

You were standing in Jeon Jungkook’s apartment. Different day, different clothes. He was wearing a loose leather jacket, white shirt, and distressed acid-wash jeans. He stuck his hands in his pockets. Black hair slicked back as usual, sculpted dark brows framing intense brown eyes. Even though he was dressed like a delinquent, his apartment was well-kept and clean. It was one of the student apartment complexes, decently expensive, segregated for men and women. Not that it mattered, since you were obviously standing there right now.

You were wearing your black turtleneck and flared black miniskirt. But instead of your usual opaque pantyhose, you were wearing black thigh-high socks. They made you very uncomfortable and not because Jungkook was staring at the sliver of exposed flesh. To be honest, you couldn’t care less if he was staring or not.

You chewed on you lip, clutching your messenger bag.

You really wondered if you should show Jungkook. Your thumb ran over your nails. Painted royal blue with raindrop crystals. You asked Hoseok to do them for you this time. He was excited to pick a design and style for you. Asked you what it was for and you said you just felt like it.

Hoseok was very happy to hear that.

Jungkook seemed to sense your unease.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “Do you want a piece of man–”

You shook your head furiously. Just do it. Do it and maybe he’ll leave you alone. Do it and he’ll understand this is a bad, bad idea.

You took a deep breath and bent at the waist. Then you yanked down both your thigh-highs, all the way to your ankles.

Jungkook gasped sharply.

You stared down at your legs. At the knife scars, mostly on your calves. Some white and thin, but there were a few big dark ones, knotted and twisted from the skin trying to grow back evenly but failing. Your legs were quite pale too. They never saw the sun.

You hated looking at them. They reminded you of why you had nightmares.

“What… happened?”

You didn’t look at him. His normally smooth, suave voice was trembling. Confused.

You sucked in your lips and clicked your tongue.

“My father was not a nice man. I was an only daughter and he was not happy about it. Perhaps he was never happy about life to begin with. He reminded my mother and me about it constantly.” You straightened, still not looking at Jungkook, but no longer wanting to look at yourself either. “He beat us up a lot. At the time, I really thought that was how it was. Men lost their temper sometimes. Happens. What else am I supposed to think?” You shrugged. “But it was always slapping around, the occasional punch. Not that bad, perhaps.”

You had to remember to breathe. Breathe.

“But when I was twelve, thirteen, it got worse. I don’t know if it was because my mom was slowly fighting back or if work became more stressful and he acted out, but the reason doesn’t matter. He simply got worse. Things thrown at us. Years of insults made them cut deeper, harder. He pulled a knife on me, when I was home alone and my mom was at work.”

You had to swallow hard, trying not to go back there. Trying not to get too detailed, because the nightmares already did that for you. You pulled up your sleeves. There were a few unpleasant scars there too, but nowhere near as bad to your legs.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I think he thought I was bleeding out or dead. My mom, feeling that something was off, decided to come home early. I don’t think I would be alive if she hadn’t thought to do that.” You inhaled deeply, pausing for a moment before continuing. “My father took his car and drove to the other side of town. Drove to a deserted area and ended his own life with the knife he cut me up with. I don’t know if it was guilt or fear of being exposed. But it doesn’t matter. I went to the hospital and stayed there for a long, long time. Not because of the cuts or almost bleeding out, but because I had to talk to a lot of psychologists. A lot of counselors.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out the pack of dried mango. “My mom would buy me these. She couldn’t visit often. She had to sell the house and work overseas to pay all the medical bills. Maybe she has a hard time seeing me too.”

You chewed on your lip, shoving it back into your bag.

“I look more like my father, unfortunately. And, even though I understand what has happened to me, I can’t escape it. I see it every day in the mirror. I am reminded all the time. I can’t talk to people unless I’m eating dried mango. It’s a stupid tick, but my therapist told me once that it was better than cocaine, so, whatever, right?”

You chuckled darkly, feeling empty.

“And I have nightmares. They don’t go away. When I take medication, it gets worse, so I don’t try anymore.”

You kept your eyes on the wall, still not looking at him.

“You’re handsome, Jungkook. Handsome, decently smart, could clean up well,” you said, still gnawing on your lip. “I’m not pretty like the other girls you hang around with. I don’t get to wear what I want because I don’t want to be asked what is wrong with my skin. Sometimes, I wake up screaming, remembering everything that happened that night. I eat way too much dried mango and speak like a fucking robot.” You closed your eyes and sucked in a shuddering breath. “I spend a lot of time trying to not feel anything. I’m not okay. You shouldn’t date someone like me.”

Silence.

Ten seconds past.

Then, the creak of leather. You suddenly felt his presence right in front of you. Strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. The sharp, clean scent of his cologne, the thinness of the white shirt revealing his toned torso. Well, the reaction wasn’t disgust. Maybe it was pity and that was worse. You did not want a pity fuck.

“At the risk of something insensitive,” Jungkook murmured quietly into your hair. “Your battle scars are really fucking cool.”

… What?

You laughed.

You laughed, because, what? That wasn’t a reaction you expected. Your laugh was raspy and kind of gross, considering you hadn’t laughed like that in years. But you laughed into Jungkook’s chest, laughed because it was ridiculous, laughed because it was a little insensitive, laughed because you didn’t care. No one who knew about your scars ever said anything like that. Everyone else was very serious and solemn, pity in their eyes as you explained.

Jungkook buried his face into your hair. You could feel his smile.

“Your laugh is cute.”

You wheezed, shaking your head a little. “It isn’t. I didn’t even know I could laugh,” you choked out weakly, breathless.

You felt him kiss the top of your head. You froze, a shiver running through you.

“You know,” Jungkook murmured. “I was really nervous in the library when I was asking you out.”

You didn’t reply. Couldn’t breathe, really.

“I found myself continuously eating that mango. I think you rubbed off on me.”

You remembered. And then you realized.

“You only ate one piece though,” he muttered. “It made me even more nervous, honestly. I just kept eating to keep my mind off it.”

Was this… was this the first time you had an entire conversation with Jeon Jungkook without eating mango at one point?

The only person you weren’t like that with was Hoseok, and that was because he was your oldest friend. The only friend who knew it all, who witnessed your bruises and tear-stained cheeks. The only friend who saw you in hospital gowns and did his best to cheer you up. Drawing pictures with you, making bracelets. Telling you that it was going to be okay, that he was going to be your daily dose of sunshine, your hope, never getting discouraged. There weren’t romantic feelings between you two, but there was love, and you were eternally grateful that Hoseok never gave up on you.

Jeon Jungkook?

He was just the annoying kid who kept trying to copy your Chemistry homework.

“You’re… not that bad at Chemistry, are you?”

Jungkook chuckled. “Nah. I always do the homework. I just wanted to annoy you.”

“You are, indeed, very annoying.”

You two stood there, Jungkook hugging you, your thigh-highs at your ankles, clutching your bag. To be honest, you thought it would have been a lot weirder. But somehow, it was kind of nice. You were okay with it.

“Where do you want to go on our date?” Jungkook suddenly piped up.

You spoke into his chest. “We’re still going on a date?”

He hugged you tighter. “Yeah, of course.”

You were pressed against his body, held so close that your ribs felt like they were being crushed.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Something is poking me.”

“… Please ignore him. He doesn’t know time and place.”

A few silent seconds passed.

“I mean, maybe you needed some reassurance that I still think you’re fine as hell.”

“He’s getting bigger.”

“I told you to ignore him.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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fukurodianthus · 3 years

Text

Cotton Candy Kisses

Synopsis: Let’s get one thing straight, confessions aren’t Ushijima Wakatoshi’s cup of tea, and the same goes for you when it comes to dealing with rejections. But then, your crackhead friends (who are done with watching two emotionally constipated fools pine for each other for two years) decide to take matters into their own hands.

Its a recipe for disaster, topped off with cherry coke and cotton candy.

Genre: Fluff, (a light sprinkle of angst thrown in), friends to lovers AU, mutual pining

Trigger warnings: Just a smol makeout scene lmao (not explicit), swearing(meanwhile, my mom: *disappointed brown parent noises*)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x fem! reader

Word count: 3k+

Author’s note: I planned to release this on valentine’s day, but my exam schedule said “no❤️”. N E ways, didnt get time to proofread it, so excuse the painful amount of errors it may have. (More unnecessary rambles notes at the end!)

𝐈

“Toshi, Terushima asked me out on a date.”

“Terushima as in Terushima Yuuiji from Johzenji? The one with piercings?” Ushijima sat on the gym floor, busy tying his shoelaces.

“Yeah.”

He sat facing away from you, so you had no way of telling how well he was taking this news.

Not like it mattered anyway.

For the last two-years, you had kept dropping subtle hints that you liked him. Hell, if baking heart-shaped red-velvet cookies for him every valentine’s day hadn’t given him the slightest hint that your feelings for him weren’t exactly platonic, probably nothing could make the stoic ace aware of your feelings.

Unless you directly said it to his face.

Wakatoshi, I like you.

Four words. There were just these four words standing between Wakatoshi and your undeclared feelings. Four words could free you from the shackles of this unrequited love that had been weighing you down for the past two years.

But what was the point anyway? He’d reject you, just like he rejected Ririka. The Ririka Hirai, captain of the girls’ volleyball team, the ace who wielded magic in her hands. Let alone the guys from Shiratorizawa, even boys from other prefectures were totally whipped for her. He didn’t even bat an eyelid before a firm ‘No’ rolled off his lips. She hated crying in front of others, but the redness in her eyes and her swollen eyelids made it obvious that her spirit had been crushed by the rejection. Her previous outgoing, warm and friendly nature had vanished within a few seconds as she withdrew herself into her shell.

If this is what rejections did to people, then you were fine with being crushed under the weight of unrequited love. And you didn’t have a Semi Eita in your life like she had, so there wouldn’t be anybody to help you out of your wallowing self-pity.

Your mind wandered back to your interaction with her yesterday, how she had pulled you into the locker room, firm hands wrapped around your wrists with no intention of letting go. You were reminded of her disastrous plan, and how you’d stupidly agreed to go along with it.

𝐈𝐈

(𝟐 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨)

“You love him, don’t you Y/N?” she asked you, cocking her head to her side as she twirled the green roots of het bubblegum colored hair. Why was she so oddly insistent on dying her hair like a meth-addicted oompa loompa? And the bigger question was, how the fuck did she look so good?

“I don’t know, Riri.” What did she expect to hear? How could you say that you weren’t half as brave as she’d been? You’d rather tend to the wounds that unrequited love caused than deal with the empty-black void of self-loathing, insecurities and embarrassment that rejection left behind.

“Y/N, I’m not a fool. I can see the way your eyes light up when he’s around.”

“So what? What the fuck should I do? Confess my feelings and get rejected? I’d rather wither under the weight of my undeclared feelings than have my soul crushed by a rejection from my best friend, thanks.” You knew you were wrong; you knew you should let go of these useless, painful feelings by confessing. Hearing him reject you would put the nail in the coffin of your one-sided love and you’d finally be free.

But you didn’t want to be free. Cowardice had this odd feeling of comfort attached to it, and you’d gotten used to it.

“Y/N, I’m not here to fight with you over a stupid himbo of a guy. It just hurts me to see you go through the same pain I had gone through. I’m just here to look out for you. I’ll give you my advice whether you want it or not, and its up to you if you’ll take it.”

You looked away. You knew that whatever she was going to say would probably make sense, she was such a smartass after all. She was never wrong, as much as you hated admitting it. Why was she such a good friend, why did she have to be so nice? It pissed you off.

“Ushijima is bad at this entire thing of love and friendships, its probably not big news to you, is it? His parents’ divorce ruined his faith in love.” She cleared her throat, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. “He doesn’t know how this entire thing of love and feelings work. Loving him is difficult, it’s like expecting an iceberg to provide you with warmth. But…” her voice trailed off.

“But what?”

“I think he likes you. He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He never saved a seat for me at lunch the way he does for you. He acts...weird around you.”

“That’s bullshit Riri, he does that stuff for me because I’m his team's manager, you know?”

“You’re just as dense as him. Perfect! You’d make a great couple” she giggled, fluttering her long, black lashes.

“Why did you confess to him if you thought he liked me?”

“Oh, I was coming to that. You see, I was a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t like me back, so I thought I might as well get these stupid feelings of my chest and move on, you know? It still hurt a lot for a few days, though. Rejections sucks, that’s nothing new. And I kind of liked Semi, so it felt like I was emotionally cheating on him if I still liked Ushijima. So, I finally confessed to him after getting rid of my feelings for Ushiwaka.” She pressed her lips together and looked away, a faint blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“You and Semi are…”

“We’re a thing now, yeah.”

“I’m so happy for you Ririka!” you practically squealed, squishing her reddened cheeks.

“We had a talk yesterday and we decided that we can no longer bear to see you two emotionally constipated dummies pining for each other anymore, so we’re taking matters into our own hands.”

“What?” Your stared at her with widened eyes, praying she didn’t come up with any stupid plans to make the situation worse.

“Do you know Terushima from Johzenji?”

“Yeah, kinda, that tongue-piercing dude with an undercut, right?”

“He’s my friend and he has agreed to helping us.”

“Oh hell no.”

“I don’t take no for an answer, I’m sorry. Babe, you can come out now.”

You choked on your own spit as you saw Semi climbing out of Ririka’s locker.

“How the fuck did you even fit him in there? Was he there the whole time? What made you think sneaking your boyfriend into the girl’s locker room was a good idea?”

“Honey, that’s too many unnecessary questions, I ain’t answering them. And there’s nobody around. So, I don’t think we’ll get in any trouble as long as you don’t snitch.”

“I’m not going to snitch.”

“That’s what I thought. Now babe, tell her about our plan.”

Semi went over with the details of their plan.

Needless to say, it was a recipe for disaster, you were sure of it.

Having an affinity for all things disastrous, you agreed to their plan.

*flashback ends*

𝐈𝐈𝐈

(𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭)

“Y/N, you there?” Ushijima was done with tying his shoelaces a while ago and now stood in front of you, his tall frame cowering over you.

You snapped out of your trance.

“Yeah, I was j-just busy thinking about some stuff.” You smoothed out your skirt and gripped your bag tightly, and looking down at your feet. You could feel his gaze on your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Stuff as in…Terushima? Were you thinking about him?”

You were taken aback by his uncharacteristically direct question and looked into his eyes. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips; his brows furrowed together in…concern?

Your imagination must be getting better of you.

“Yeah, I was thinking about our date, tomorrow.”

His eyes seemed duller than usual, lacking its usual lustre.

“He doesn’t have a reputation for being loyal, you know.” His words seemed long-drawn, forced, painful. As if it physically hurt him to get these words to roll of his tongue.

He ran his fingers through his greasy olive-brown hair, his gaze still fixed on you. You became painfully aware of the silence in the empty gym room. Why was your heart beating so loudly? Was his heart beating just as loud?

His breath hitched as you stepped closer to him. You noticed the way his sweat-drenched shirt clung to his body, highlighting his well-built frame, the way his lips glistened when he licked his lips, the way his tousled hair stuck to his forehead. You almost brushed those stray strands off his face. Almost.

You spoke in a low tone, almost in a whisper. This moment seemed fragile, like treading on thin ice. It felt as if you both were in a trance and any loud noise would snap you back to reality. You wouldn’t mind being stuck in this trance for a few eternities. “Terushima is a player, a heartbreaker. You think I don’t know that? Maybe I just want to have my heart broken, Toshi. Isn't it better than loving someone who will never love me back?”

He stared at you with a blank, unreadable expression. You noticed how his adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he gulped, his neck and collarbones glistening with sweat.

He had no business being this hot, godamnit.

“I just remembered, Coach Washijo wanted to have a talk with me-“ he took a step back, breaking eye contact with you.

“Coach Washijo is on a sick-leave for a week, Toshi.”

“Ah okay, right.” He turned on his heels and stormed out of the gym, the tips of his ears covered in a faint red glow.

How long will you keep running away Wakatoshi?

𝐈𝐕

(𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲)

“Yeah, chocolate will be fine.”

Terushima handed you the ice-cream cone, flashing his iconic toothy grin at you.

This park of the amusement park was quieter and calmer than the other parts. You were seated on a bench beside a mermaid shaped fountain. Behind you, far off in the distance was a Ferris wheel, lit up in pink and red neon lights, a classic decoration that was put up in this park every valentine’s day.

“Want anything else, babe?” He sat down beside you on the bench, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Dude, you don’t have to put on such a show, you know? You don’t have to make it so realistic.”

He threw his head back and let out another one of his irritating laughs. It was pretty cute, even though you’d never admit it aloud.

“Y/N who said I’m pretending? When Riri asked me to take you out on a fake date to make lover boy Toshi jealous, I thought this would be a pretty good opportunity to score a date with a cute girl, it doesn’t matter if the date is fake or not.”

“You even bought a couple’s ticket, huh?”

“This amusement park has a special valentine’s day offer for couples, fifty percent off for each ride, aint that crazy? I was just saving my coins princess.”

“I swear to god, call me that one more time and you’ll find my foot up your ass-“

“Ooh, kinky!”

It physically hurt you to not punch him and wipe that cheesy grin off his face. “I can’t handle you Terushima-” You hungrily bit down on the ice-cream, gobbling it up in a matter of a few seconds.

Terushima's nose scrunched up in disgust. “The fuck Y/N, who bites ice-cream like that! Are you a caveman or something?"

“Aw babe, didn’t you know? I’m not like other girls.” You dramatically flicked a stand of your hair, as your pretentious, catty tone drew a chuckle from him.

“C’mon now, fake date or not lets a have a good time! I’m done sitting around on this bench, we’re in an amusement park for fuck’s sake Y/N!” He took his black leather jacket off, flinging it around his shoulders, his white shirt clung to his skin. He looked like a stereotypical bad boy out of a wattpad book written by a 16-year-old. You bit down the urge to make a sarcastic comment about his appearance.

“Get up now, you lazy butt.” He offered you a hand.

You slapped his hand away and stood up, brushing the small remnants of the ice-cream cone off your plaid yellow dress.

“Damn, you feisty.”

“Serves you right, pisshead.”

He was about to make a snarky retort when his eyes suddenly landed on someone standing in the crowd beside the ferris wheel. “Looks like lover boy is here.”

“You sure its him?”

“A hundred and twenty percent ma’am! Now go get your man!” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before winking at you. “That’ll get him riled up enough.”

“You’re such a little shit-”

“Shut up, he’s coming here, go talk to him.”

You turned around on your heels to see Ushijima making his way towards you.

“Hey! What you doing here Toshi?” You tried putting on a surprised expression, but after seeing how Terushima snickered at you, you understood that you probably overdid it.

“Uhm, did I interrupt your d-date?” Ushijima looked painfully flustered. His eyes searched your face, looking for signs of annoyance or anger.

He was surprised at how happy you looked. Didn’t girls get annoyed when someone interrupted their dates? Ah, women, such complex creatures, all mysteries of the world seem irrelevant when compared to the mystery of a woman’s psyche.

“No, not at all! Do you want to tell me something?” You cocked you head and batted your eyelashes at him playfully.

But he remained silent, lips tightly pressed together as his eyes kept flickering between Terushima and you.

“Hey Yuuji, I’d like to talk to Toshi in private, maybe you could…you know-“

“Ah that was stupid of me! I’ll leave you two to yourselves. I’ll be at the Haunted Mansion if you need me, a friend of mine works there as a part time zombie.” He pointed finger guns at you and winked. "See ya later sweet cheeks!" You saw his silhouette fade into the distance.

It was only you and Ushijima now.

The golden glow from the setting sun and the faint pink lights from the faraway Ferris wheel illuminated his face in a rose-gold glow. He sported a red flannel shirt, more specifically the one you had bought for him while shopping with Tendou last summer.

He looked ethereal.

You cleared you throat. “Toshi? You wanted to tell me something, right?”

He looked started, unsure of himself. You looked at him with anticipation, your heart almost leaping out of your ribcage.

“Y/N, for the next match Yamagata will replace Akakura as the libero because he twisted his ankle in in the hallway today.”

Unbeknowst to you, Ririka and Semi hid behind an ice-cream truck in the distance, keeping an eye on you both. They could hear small excerpts of your conversation. So, when they heard Ushijima saying something about ‘match’ and ‘libero’, they let out frustrated groans. “That dense fucker messed up yet again.” they whispered under their breaths in unison.

Disappointment flashed across your face. Was he serious? How dense could a guy possibly be?

“You came this far, interrupted my date to tell me this, Toshi? You could just have messaged me, you know?” Your voice trembled, vision blurring with tears.

So much for love.

You felt stupid, you wanted to slap yourself across your face for being naïve enough to believe that Ushijima Wakatoshi could ever reciprocate your feelings.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You started to walk away, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your dress, when you felt a strong arm coil across you waist.

Wakatoshi pulled you close, and in an instant his lips were on yours. You didn’t spare a second thought before kissing him back, your lips hungrily melting into his. You grazed your tongue across his lower lip as he pushed you against the fountain, one hand placed on the small of your back pulling your body closer and the other under your dress, grazing your thigh. Your fingers aimlessly hovered over his chest before gently tugging him by the collar of his shirt.

When he finally pulled away, you both stared at each other, panting breathlessly, hair drenched from the light spray of water cascading down the fountain. The warmth of his lips still lingered on your mouth.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your dreamlike trance. “Tendou and Semi told me that I wasn’t worthy enough of being Shiratorizawa’s ace if I chickened out of professing my feelings to the girl I’ve liked for two years. How could I sit back and watch that guy from Johzenji steal you away? I like you Y/N, and I'm tired of pretending that I don't."

You were about to respond when Semi’s voice rang out from behind the ice-cream truck.

“Oh my god Riri! Did you see that? They kissed! I’m so proud of my miracle boy-”

“Keep it down you dimwit, or they’ll hear us-“

You let out a soft chuckle and took Ushijima’s hand in yours. “Wouldn't it be very surprising if Semi and Riri suddenly popped out from behind that ice-cream truck, Toshi? But that's totally impossible right? Not like they'd ever eavesdrop on us-"

Semi and Ririka slowly made their way towards you, eyes downcast with guilt.

“We didn’t mean to intrude-” Semi started to explain.

“Shut your trap, you shitheads, we wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.” You chirped, drawing them into a tight embrace.

“What do you mean Y/N?” Ushijima stared at you, confused. You stifled a chuckle.

“Well, we actually made a plan…” Ririka started explaining.

After Semi, Ririka and you explained your entire scheme to him, he stared at you, confused, open mouthed.

“You could just have told me, you know? All this to get me jealous?”

“I was scared of getting rejected, Toshi.”

“I’d never reject you!”

“And how the fuck was I supposed to know that? You never showed any signs of recognition at my hints, how was I supposed to know you liked me? You huffed.

“Well, I suppose I…nevermind.”

“No, finish your sentence!”

“Would you like to ride the Ferris Wheel, Y/N?”

“Thought you’d never ask. But first, buy some cotton candy for your lady love.” He took his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with his. "Anything for my girl."

𝐕

Ushijima’s lips softly grazed you neck, his hot breath fanning across your collarbones.

The soft pink light from the Ferris Wheel lit his face up.

Wiping a piece of leftover cotton candy from your lips, he suddenly asked, “Why do you love me, Y/N?”

You thought of the times he saved extra bento boxes for you after lunch when you refused to eat properly, how he’d stayed awake, sitting in your bedside chair, taking care of you as your body burned in fever, how he’d laugh at your stupid jokes even though they weren’t anything close to being funny, or how he’d show up at your door with cotton candy and cherry coke whenever you were under the weather.

You pressed your lips against his before whispering,

“What’s there to not love, Toshi?”

Author’s rambles notes pt. 2: Ririka Hirai isn’t a very well-known character, but I decided to add her anyways because the girl’s volleyball team characters deserve some love too! You can find more about her here (if it very isnt obvious already, I find her character absolutely adorable!)

N E ways, I hope you enjoyed reading this fic(which has absolutely 0 grammatical errors and i totally didnt write this while overdosing on an unhealthy amount of coffee at three in the morning)

Reblogs would be highly appreciated!

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dabiboy · 3 years

Note

S/O needs to reassure Hawks because i can see him having trust issues toward women (i mean... spoiler. Mom betrayed him and left)...

And... Spoiler again. She sold him twice. TWICE. Anyways, let’s try to forget this pain with this fluff. Hope you like it!

Author’s note: There is a cameo of a character from another universe, let’s see if you guys catch it👀

Until the Hurting is Gone

The evening went well. All of your friends gathered at your shared apartment with Hawks, and thank God you didn't have any friend that was too much into social media, and just one of them asked to take a picture with your boyfriend. Truth be told, you couldn't blame her, meeting the Winged Hero was not a daily thing to do.

Laughs were shared, memories, jokes, just a normal gathering with good old friends. Maybe too good friends. Or so Keigo thought.

Yes, he was a jealous man but not the possessive kind, at least not when he was not near his rut. But that friend of yours? He was way too close, too nice, too cool. The bastard was even good looking. And Keigo was starting to feel unsure. And couldn't say anything because he was your life best friend.

Despite his feelings almost raging inside of him, it was better to get distracted and not ruin your night because of jealousy, so the best answer was to get along with your other friends, the ones that he did like him. However, his avians traits were not helping. At all. And he could hear your laughter loud and clear, and thanks to the tingle in his feathers he turned around, praying not to break the glass on his hand.

''Oh my god, yes! Do you remember when we were in high school and had to get in the closet because of that seven minutes in heaven game?''

''And we clapped and screamed like idiots, the whole class thought we were dating afterward'' You and your friend laughed again.

''Man, that getaway was the best, I swear! The whole class on a cabin on the beach? I had never been more proud of a punishment''

''You were grounded like a month, but hey, if it hadn't been for me you would still be grounded'' Jean laughed.

''Oh shut up you idiot. That was because my parents love you, because they don't know you're crazier than a cow''

''You know I'm right and the best, you just can't face it'' He shrugged his shoulders and used his hand to pull his hair back. The bastard had an undercut? Damn he was fine, Keigo said to himself. ''We should have a getaway like that one again, for the good old times''

''Yes! That'd be so cool! We have to make the plans for this one, you know that as long as a plan includes us, drink and something reckless, I'm in''

The way you winked at him killed Keigo. All of his insecurities got together, his chest suddenly felt tighter and he did a whole tour on all of his flaws as a breathing being. He even thought about his looks, his messy hair, how he wasn't so muscular as other heroes, the bird marks on his eyes, his other bird traits. Yes, he was feeling like hell. Why could he be with someone like you when you matched so well with Jean? Were you going to leave him too? Damn, he could even hear the awful words his parents once told him.

Keigo kept quiet during the rest of the night, and just smiled and wave when all of your friends finally left, his hurt aching at the tight hug you gave Jean. He was far better than him.

You went to the shower before bed, and when you got out you couldn't help but smile at the cute picture in front of you; Keigo was sitting leg-crossed on his side of the bed, looking down and seeming distracted while he played with his fingers. The way the skin of his tummy folded a bit over his abs making him look even cuter. And hotter at the same time. But something was off. He seemed... Sad.

''Kei? You good?'' You asked as you sat on your side, trying to look at him.

''Yeah, I'm fine'' He was known for bottle up his emotions. And the way he had answered told you he was not fine.

''You don't sound fine, love'' You pouted your lips as you rested your chin on his bare shoulder.

He didn't reply for long seconds, and he kept playing with his fingers without looking at you. Keigo was good at pretending he was good when he wasn't, but this time it seemed his emotions were stronger. And they were. Usually, he didn't have time to overthink everything, he could just carry on and feel like shit later, and now? After all of that emotion and memories tour he felt bad. Scared, like shit. All of his fears came back to him.

''y/n?'' He called your name ''Do you... Do you think I'm good enough?'' it caught you off guard.

''What do you mean with that, of course you are. You are better than good, baby'' You said gaining distance so you could look at him better ''You're the number two hero-'' He cut you off.

''Not as a hero. As a man, as... Your boyfriend'' His voice was filled with pain and vulnerability, and your heart ached about it.

''Yes, Keigo. You're the best man I've ever meet. You're kind, you're funny, you're brave, you're caring'' The list of things you could keep saying about him was endless ''I love you with my whole life, love. I couldn't ask for anyone better than you'' You whispered, caressing his cheek. But then it hit you.

You remembered that late night talk in which he had spilled his whole life to you, telling you everything about his childhood and his parents, and how his mother, the woman that supposed to be there for him no matter what sold him as a piece of meat, changed him for something better for her own benefit.

''Is it because of Jean?'' This time, you ran your hand on his golden locks. God, you loved his hair so much.

''He was... Cool. And tall, and funny, and had interesting stories to tell. He was also very good looking, and you seemed to get along with him very well'' You wished you could've avoided it, but a small smile was on your face at his naiveness.

''Jean is my best friend since I was like five, he's like an older brother to me'' You said as you kept playing with his hair. ''We went to kindergarten together, and then graduated together, and did a lot of stupid things together. I've known every single one of his girlfriends,'' You did the 'e' sound in the word 'every' longer to emphasize ''And let me tell you I'm not his type'' You laughed ''And he'd seen and known all of my boyfriends too, and guess what'' The way you whispered, make Keigo looked at you ''The only one that liked him was you. Not because you're a hero, because he thought you were cool and good to me. And good looking? Please, Kei. He has a horse face.'' You smiled at him, loving to see that glimpse of a smile on his face ''I love you, and only you, ok?'' You whispered again and he nodded. After some more seconds, he took a deep breath and talked again. Just one sentence. One that described his biggest fear.

''You're not... You're not going to leave me too, right?''

His face was like a child's. Eyes full of hope but fear at the same time, they were screaming at you, telling you 'please hold me and don't let me go' but before letting his vulnerable side show, he needed to hear it from you. He needed the reassurance only the love of his life could give him.

''I will never, Keigo, never going to leave you. Is that clear? I'm going to be with you until you're old, because there is no one I'd rather to spend my life with. Now come here, my bird boy.''

You thanked his wings were not his usual size, and that they were rather small so you could fit him in your arms. He held to your arm, resting his head on your chest and curling up his body between your legs. He didn't want to be away from you, never. You played with his hair again, but switching among his back, nape, arms, anywhere your hands could reach.

''I'm sorry for being an insecure little shit'' He said.

''Don't be. It is important to let your feelings out, I will always listen to you'' A kiss on his temple.

''I love you. So, so much'' He whispered and snuggled even closer to you, which was a big hard because he was not a five year old, he was a grown up man cuddling and clinging to you like a child ''I love you'' He said again.

''I love you too, my Keigo'' You said one more time before continuing with your ministrations. A thing was for sure, you were going to hug him until his hurting was gone. Even if that meant held him forever. Because you knew he was going to do the same

#hawks x reader #hawks #hawks headcanons #my hero academia hawks #mha hawks #hawks x you #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #keigo takami imagine #keigo takami #keigo x y/n #keigo takami mha #mha takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo

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remywrites5 · 4 years

Text

Regulus sat on the sofa, where he fiddled with his hair nervously, and shifted uncomfortably in the dress his mum had put him in. He hated that he was forced to keep his hair so long. Sirius had been growing his hair out since he was fifteen, ever since Reg finally told him the truth, that Regulus identified as a man. “Look, Reg,” Sirius had said, once his hair was past his shoulders. “Boys can have long hair too. So don’t feel bad that mum won’t let you cut it!”

They had poured over the many Astronomy books in the library to find Regulus a different name – a boy’s name. After a bit of back and forth between the two brothers, they had eventually agreed on Regulus Black.

Regulus had had a rough go of it at Hogwarts – being misgendered, people using his dead name, and having to sleep in the girls’ dormitories. The only time he had been happy was on the Slytherin Quidditch team, because everyone wore the same uniforms. But now he was out of Hogwarts and had hoped he could finally live his life the way he wanted. Those small glimpses of hope had been dashed once Sirius ran away from home. Sirius was disinherited and burned off the family tapestry. Regulus was now responsible for producing a Black family heir, since he was not eligible to inherit.

Since graduating from Hogwarts, Regulus’ life had been a parade of men from pureblood families. Walburga was searching for someone worthy. Regulus had lost count of how many men had come by, looking for an arranged marriage that benefited them. Some of them were just looking for the status that marrying a Black would bring them. Others were interested in the money. Regulus had taken a page out of his brother’s book, and had causes enough trouble that they all ran away.

Walburga had stopped giving Regulus any insight into who would be coming to the door. Perhaps she had figured out that if Regulus had knowledge of the suitor, he could figure out a way to scare them off. Most of the men coming by were people Reg knew from school, which meant he knew their weak spots. After all, Regulus was a Slytherin at the end of the day, and he would use every advantage he had if it meant he didn’t have to marry.

The door to the parlor opened and Regulus stood up. He smoothed out the skirt of the black satin dress his mother had forced him to wear and prepared himself for the worst. He was a little caught off guard when James Potter of all people walked in. His mother considered the Potters to be blood traitors, which meant she must have been getting desperate to find someone pureblood still left.

“James –“ Regulus said, feeling himself blush.

“Hi Reg,” James responded, giving a little wave.

Regulus was so shocked to hear one of these stupid suitors call him by his name. It was almost enough to make him cry in relief. “What are you doing here?”

James shuffled awkwardly on his feet and scratched the back of his neck. “Could we maybe sit down?”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

James made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. “I knew this was going to be bloody awkward. Look, I’m probably the last person you want to get saddled with after everything that happened with Sirius, but your mum invited me out, and Sirius wanted me to come see how you are.”

“Oh,” Reg said, rubbing his arm self-consciously. “Well, I’m fine, you can tell Sirius I’m fine.”

James took a tentative step forward. “Are you sure, Reg?”

“I’m sure,” Regulus snapped at him. “You don’t want to be here anyway, so just go,”

“I didn’t say that,” James countered defensively. “I said you don’t want me here. I know you don’t like me all that much since Sirius came to live with me.”

“I never disliked you,” Regulus confessed quietly. “I disliked the situation, but I always understood why Sirius had to get out.”

“So…” James took another step towards Regulus. “You don’t hate me then?”

Regulus shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said out loud in case James needed it verbalized to believe it.

James sighed in relief and smiled at Reg. “I’m glad to hear it. I was a little worried you were going to hex me on sight.”

Regulus smirked and sat back down on the couch. He crossed his legs primly and then patted the spot next to him. James eagerly hurried over to sit down beside him. Regulus tried not to find it endearing and failed miserably. “Here’s the thing, I don’t want to get married and I certainly don’t want to have a child.”

“Okay…” James said, his brow furrowing. “Then why are you going along with all of this then?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice,” Regulus said through gritted teeth, his hands curling into fists by his sides. “The Black family needs an heir and we both know Sirius isn’t an option anymore. As far as pureblood wizards go, you’re about the best I’m going to get. Besides, I want someone who is going to accept me as a man. I know I might not be what you were looking for –“

“Actually –“ James interrupted, scratching his chin. “Sirius informed me I’m something called Pansexual…so, you know, I’m fine with you being a bloke.”

Regulus blinked a few times in surprise. He honestly had not been expecting that at all and was completely baffled. He had always thought James Potter was straight, after all, he had spent most of his time at Hogwarts chasing after Lily Evans.

“So wait, you’re actually considering this?” Regulus asked, shaking his head slightly in disblief. “You’d marry me?”

James shrugged. “If you’ll have me.”

“You’re not just doing this as a favor to my brother, right?” Reg asked, eyeing James suspiciously. After knowing James for so long, it was difficult not to imagine he had some kind of ulterior motive for all of this.

James grinned. “I love Sirius like a brother, but even I’m not that altruistic that I would marry a bloke just to make him happy.”

Regulus was satisfied with that answer. He couldn’t believe that he was actually considering marry James Potter. “You must have something you want out of all of this,” he said, chewing his bottom lip. “This is a lot to give up.”

“I don’t see it that way,” James said, slowly reaching over and taking Reg’s hand in his, giving Reg enough time to pull away if he wanted. “I mean, you’re very pretty. Handsome? No, blokes can be pretty. You’re pretty. Beautiful, actually. I – fuck – you know you’re gorgeous. I don’t have to tell you that.”

Regulus felt himself blushing horridly. He couldn’t believe one compliment like that – and a fumbled attempt at one no less – was enough to get him flustered. “So you just want to marry someone pretty then?”

James laughed but it was a bit strained. “I think you’re more than just a pretty face, Reg.”

Regulus turned his face away to hide his deeper blush. What was wrong with him today? “Shut up, James.”

“What do you say, Reg?” James asked, giving Regulus’ hand a squeeze. “Do you want to marry me?”

Regulus turned and eyed James up and down for any sign that he was being disingenuous. Instead all he saw was the stupidly earnest look on James’ face as he waited for a response.

“Yes.”

***

Regulus felt like he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he’d agreed to James’ proposal. After they got married, Regulus and James had gotten a flat together in London, and being away from his parents meant Regulus could finally breathe. He donated all his dresses and skirts to charity, so that he never had to see them again. James didn’t say a word when Regulus cut his hair, picking a fashionable undercut, the front still falling into his grey eyes.

Regulus still felt like they were on the precipice of something, though. James never asked for anything, and that simple fact put Regulus on edge. He wasn’t used to someone not having any expectations for him. For the most part, James just let Regulus be, and since they weren’t sleeping in the same bed, they were almost more like flatmates than a married couple. It made Regulus uneasy, since he still didn’t know what James was getting out of their arrangement.

It started with Regulus stealing James’ shirts and hoodies. James was fairly muscular from his obsession with Quidditch, so when Regulus wore James’ clothes, he was kind of swimming in them. They were so cozy that Regulus couldn’t help wanting to wear them. Being wrapped up in James’ clothes kind of made Regulus yearn for the man himself.

James was relaxing on the couch, studying for the Auror exam he was taking later that month. He glanced up when Reg entered the room and his hazel eyes immediately went soft behind his glasses. He took in the sight of Regulus wearing his Gryffindor t-shirt and smiled. Regulus chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then walked over to the couch. James watched him for a minute and then scooted over in an invitation. Regulus dropped into James’ arms and they tangled themselves in each other.

“James?”

“Yeah, Reg?”

“Am I enough for you?”

James frowned for a moment and Regulus immediately buried his face away against James’ neck. He was nervous that he had upset his husband. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you’ve given me a home, and you’ve let me be myself,” Regulus said, his voice muffled against James’ skin. “I don’t know what I do for you.”

James chuckled, rubbing his hand over Reg’s back. “Do you want to do something for me?”

“Well I am your husband,” Regulus groused, wrapping his arms around James and hugging him tightly.

James slid his hand down, brushing his finger along Reg’s jawline, before tilting his chin up. James ducked his head and kissed Regulus tenderly on the lips. Regulus gasped slightly, but the kiss was already done before he got the sound out. “There,” James said, shifting around so that he could comfortably hold his book, his other arm still around Reg. “That’s all I wanted.”

Regulus’ jaw was still dropped. “That can’t possibly be enough for you,” he reasoned.

James put his book down in order to focus his attention on Reg. “Fine, I’ll do it again then,” he said with a soft sigh. He captured Reg’s lips and proceeded to kiss him breathless. Regulus clung to James, letting his mouth be invaded by James’ talented tongue, whimpering slightly against his husband’s’ lips.

“James –“ Regulus said, breaking the kiss. “I want you to be honest with me. A few kisses? That’s really all you want?”

James grinned and ran his fingers through Reg’s hair. “You want me to be honest, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to wear my clothes all the time, because it does things to me to see you in them, and I’m a bad, possessive husband, who wants to see my husband in my t-shirts. I also want to kiss you pretty much all the time. Finally, I want you to fall in love with me, but that one I’m willing to wait on.”

Regulus hid his face away again because the things James said were simply too overwhelming. “So that’s all I have to do?” Regulus asked in astonishment.

“That’s all,” James confirmed, pressing a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head.

Regulus huffed indignantly. It all sounded so simple, but that couldn’t be all James wanted. Regulus knew that his mother had constantly been bombarding James with owls since their wedding night six months ago. A barrage of letters and howlers had come asking when they were going to get pregnant and produce and heir. Walburga probably would have had conniptions if she knew James and Regulus weren’t even sleeping in the same bed. But after their little cuddle session on the couch, Reg was thinking he might have to reevaluate his stance on that. Being held by James was actually very nice. “May I tell you what I want?”

Regulus felt James nod, since Reg still had his face buried away. “Of course,” James said softly. “Anything you want, Reg.”

Regulus pulled back, so that he could see James’ face, and took a deep breath. “I want you to fall in love with me too.”

“Too late.”

Regulus sputtered for a moment. “Y-you’re not –“

“I’m not?” James challenged, raising an eyebrow. His eyes got that same softness to them as he smiled before leaning in to kiss Regulus again. “I’m pretty sure I am.”

“Only pretty sure?” Regulus murmured against James’ lips, managing to tease him, even as his heart was fluttering away in his chest.

James chuckled, pressing their foreheads together, so Reg had no choice but to stare into those hazel eyes he’d become enamored by.

“I’m sure.”

#Jegulus #I write things #happy pride month everyone #fluff #trans Regulus #Regulus Black #James Potter #james potter x regulus black #arranged marriage au #I just want nice things for Regulus okay?#trans character

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Could you write something about Sirius with a girl and like him feeling uncomfortable about it or maybe like him realizing that he doesn’t like girls? Love your writing!

Oh boy, I hope y’all are ready for some angst that only has a happy ending because we know canon. This counts as pre-Coops as well--bonus points to anyone who fills out a bingo card of Sirius’ repressed feelings! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Rachel is mine!

TW for repression and alcohol

Sirius was kissing a girl, and that was…well, it was occurring. She was nice enough, he supposed—Rachel LaChance, she had said over the rim over her cup of beer with a confident smile. She had nice lips, painted a deep red with a full upper lip in the opposite of a Cupid’s bow.

Her brown eyes flashed in the low light of the bar and a few golden curls fell over her brow as she led him further from the crowds by the hand. She walked with easy grace, like she knew she was powerful and wasn’t afraid to shoulder through some people if they didn’t part for her.

For a moment, while she turned around and guided his hand to set his drink on the table before bringing it to her waist, he wondered what she would look like in a Lions cap. Would she turn it backward? Or would she wear it forward, so it dipped down over her eyes and hid her freckles—

Freckles. No. Rachel LaChance, for all of her aesthetic beauty, did not have freckles. He felt her fingers lace into his hair, tugging gently at the nape in a way that should have driven him crazy and instead did absolutely nothing. I guess it feels nice to be touched, he thought as she stroked a hand down his back. She’s warm, and soft.

He moved his hand from her hip to cup her face and found himself surprised when it was a steeper angle than he expected. He brought his other hand up as well, tracing along her cheekbones as his wrists met at the sharp point of her chin.

She smiled against his mouth. “Relax,” she whispered, squeezing his hip. “I don’t bite unless you want me to.” She was tall, maybe five eight or five nine, but just slightly too short for Sirius’ neck to not hurt. Perhaps if she gained another two or three inches…

Something sudden and unpleasant rushed through his whole system and he squeezed his eyes shut. No, no, pull it together, Black. Her waist sloped too much. She was too delicate under his hands, despite the muscle on her arms and thighs. She was…she was a she.

He pulled back for half a second, pretending to catch his breath as he wrestled down the this is wrong alarm bells. Rachel ran a thumb over his lower lip to swipe away leftover lipstick and he tensed slightly before leaning back in to distract her from his rigid shoulders. This has happened before. You know how to deal with it. Just pretend and then leave.

In his mind, her eyes lightened to an amber gold that caught the sunlight like pure honey. Her curly bob shortened into a sort-of undercut that would have looked odd on anyone else but instead curled around the edges of a baseball cap like tawny angel wings. Her jaw filled out and squared off—it was gentle, but stubborn.

Under his hands, the rolling curve of her waist tapered into narrow hips and hardened into muscle that he seen only once, flexing against the mats of the team gym. As he moved a palm up to trace the neckline of her shirt, he imaged he felt the slight bumps of two scars turned silver against golden skin.

The tongue in his mouth did something lovely. “Re,” he breathed, melting into it only to be filled with cold dread a half second later. “—chel,” he finished. “Rachel.”

“That’s my name,” she said, nipping his lip playfully. “Feel free to wear it out.”

He forced a laugh and pressed closer against her, catching a few lingering stares from girls passing by. He nearly laughed for real at that; I promise there’s nothing to be jealous of.

“Sirius,” Rachel murmured, trailing kisses down his jaw. He swallowed around the discomfort with the way she said his name—there was something missing in it. She made it a sultry, sexy hiss, rather than the bouncy, teasing lilt that he adored. “We should head upstairs.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t like he didn’t know that was coming. He had just hoped it wouldn’t. “Um.”

“It’s fine, nobody’ll notice.” Rachel paused and looked up at him through her lashes and why did her eyes have to be just the wrong shade? “I have everything we’ll need.”

Not unless you have copious amounts of lube and also changed pronouns in the last ten minutes. “Um.”

A bit of her confidence was replaced by confusion. “Do you…not want to?”

He swallowed again, mouth dry. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not looking for that tonight. You’re lovely, though, and a very good kisser.” Sirius cleared his throat and prayed she couldn’t hear him screaming look at me, I’m a raging homosexual! in his head.

Rachel blinked and gave him a strange look. “…okay. Thanks?”

Is that not how straight people give compliments? Fuck fuck fuck fuck—“Have a nice night, Rachel. Thanks again.”

He picked up his drink and waded through the sweaty crowd without a second glance, heading back toward his dark corner where he could keep a few of his friends in his eyeline and daydream in peace. Ten, maybe fifteen, maybe sixty minutes later, he saw Rachel dancing with someone with a shining smile on her face and a fresh coat of lipstick. Good for her, he thought a he sipped his bitter beer. Good for her.

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hxwks-gf · 3 years

Text

» 𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖚𝖙𝖞

𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔦 𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝/𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚒. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 (𝚎𝚡. 𝙲𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚝𝚌) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎?

Levi prided himself in his self control. It was what made him strong, unbreakable, disciplined. He was always in control. Everything he did was calm and calculated. No surprises. Nothing unexpected.

Which made the fact that he was in love with you all the more scarier to him because he had not a single shred of control over it.

“Cleaning duty?” you groaned, taking the broom out of Armin’s hand. “Again?”

“I’m sorry, (y/n), but the captain specifically asked for you to do it,” he replied, reaching up and adjusting the strap of your apron. “But I think you already know you’re the best at it, second only to him.”

“That doesn’t mean I like doing it,” you grumbled, hiding your nervousness with a pouting face. The captain asked for you specifically? What the hell did that mean? “Please tell me it’s not the stables again. I don’t think I can handle one more night of smelling like horse shit every time I go to bed.”

Armin laughed and shook his head, golden hair falling around his eyes. “No, it’s not the stables. It’s his office, actually. You’ll be assisting him.”

Your eyebrows raised. “His office? I’m surprised he trusts anyone near there, let alone to clean it.”

“I guess you’ve impressed him,” he said, shrugging. “You’d better go. You know how he is with punctuality.”

“Right,” you murmured as Armin patted you on the shoulder and left you alone in the hallway with nothing but an apron and a broom. A few other soldiers were off to their own respective nightly duties, none of which gave you a second glance.

You swallowed nervously and looked towards the southern quarters where you knew his office was. If you messed up even once, you knew you’d be back to shoveling shit every night. You had to be perfect. Levi wouldn’t settle for anything less.

The walk was quiet and still, as if the world was holding its breath and waiting to see how badly you’d fuck this up. You did your best to pay it no mind as you came to a stop outside of his door, knuckles raised to the wood. Two raps, and you stood back and waited.

“Come in,” his voice called from within.

You pushed the heavy door open and stuck your head inside, silently groaning when you saw he had already started. “I was told you asked for my assistance tonight.”

“I did,” he responded, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and gesturing towards the wooden floorboards.. “You can get started on sweeping.”

You tightened your grip around the handle of the broom. “Yes, sir.”

The next hour and a half was silent, except for the sound of you sweeping the floor and Levi emptying out the ashes in the fireplace. It wasn’t as scary as you had imagined it. The image of Levi shouting drill commands as you cleaned appeared in your mind, and you couldn’t help but silently laugh to yourself. No, cleaning with him was peaceful. Therapeutic, almost.

You wiped your forehead and stood back to admire your handiwork. The floor was practically sparkling, and you couldn’t help but puff your chest out with pride. Glancing back at him still kneeling by the fireplace, you cleared your throat.

“Finished?” he asked without looking up at you.

“Yes, sir.”

“That was quick.” Levi stood up and wiped his hands off on his apron. “Shall I inspect, or do you want to double check your work?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “No, sir. Inspect all you wish.”

He knelt to the floor and ran his hand over it. When he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, he was silent. Victory.

“You won’t find anything,” you said, leaning on the broom. “I’m sure you already knew that, though.”

Levi glared up at you and got to his feet again. “No need to get cocky, (l/n). You still need to dust.”

You shrugged at him, mindful to keep your gloating to a minimum as you picked up the feather duster and began working on his desk. That peaceful silence returned, paired now with the soft sound of the feathers caressing his belongings and his scrubbing of the windows nearby.

Another hour passed and you cleared your throat again, standing by his desk with the duster behind your back. “I’m finished, sir.”

“Did you get under the desk?”

“Yes.”

He hummed in response and joined you where you stood. He leaned over and scrutinized the surface, looking for even the slightest amount of dust to use against you. Just then, a pleasant smell entered your nostrils; a mix of fresh, clean linens, tea leaves, and another earthy scent you couldn’t quite place. It put you at an even calmer ease than the cleaning. Your nostrils flared as you tried to figure out where it was coming from, until Levi stood upright again and the scent washed over you.

A furious blush covered your cheeks. It was him. He was what smelled so good. You pressed your lips into a thin line and studied the wooden slats of the ceiling as if they were the most fascinating thing on earth, painfully aware that you had just discovered your new favorite scent. Shit.

“It’s adequate,” Levi finally said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You snapped your attention back to him and nodded feverishly. “T-thank you, sir.”

“No snarky reply this time?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, not after what you had just done. “Do you want one, sir?”

Levi arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “Save it for next time, (l/n). Go get dinner.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you managed to get out, picking up your forgotten broom and nearly scrambling to get out of his office. You shut the door behind you a little more forcefully than intended and collapsed against it, wanting to scrub the scent of him out of your nose. If you allowed yourself to take even one step further, you knew there was no going back. So why bother taking that first step at all?

“Please tell me it’s stable duty,” you begged, holding onto Armin’s sleeve for dear life. “Please.”

He scrunched up his nose. “You want to shovel horse poop?”

The memory of Levi’s scent invaded your mind and you nodded your head fervently. “Yes. Clears my head.”

Armin’s eyes scanned the paper and made a face. “Nope, you’re in mess hall tonight.”

“Oh, thank God,” you breathed, already picking up an apron and a broom. “I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

Armin watched you disappear down the hall with that strange pep in your step. Shaking his head in confusion, he turned around to go about his own nightly duties.

The mess hall was quiet, for now. You were on a strict time clock to clean the entire room before dinner was served, and you were ready to completely lose yourself in the task. Despite what you told the rest of the squad about how much you hated cleaning, you actually enjoyed it. A lot. You were sure there was some symbolism in there somewhere, something about not being able to completely clean yourself of the things you had done so you resorted to the next best thing...but you didn’t want to think about it.

Before you could begin pushing the mop back and forth across the filthy floor, you heard the doors open. And when you glanced up to see who it was, you felt your heart flip within your chest.

Levi pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and fastened his apron around his waist as he walked towards you, holding his own mop in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out.

He came to a stop in front of you and frowned. “Don’t be rude. I’m here to help you.”

“But...why?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you asked, gripping the handle of the mop tightly. “Captain things?”

“I find cleaning to be relaxing,” he said, tossing his ebony hair out of his eyes. “But if you’d like to finish this on your own, be my guest.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” you rushed out, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. “I just...I’m sorry. I could use the help, sir.”

Levi watched you with those intense grey eyes, before nodding curtly and turning his back to you. “Very well.”

He was only a few feet away from you, the soft hair of his undercut visible, and you instinctively leaned forward to inhale. That sweet, woodsy scent was back, washing over you in a flurry of fresh linens, tea leaves, and pine trees. You would never get enough of it.

Levi began working before you did, and you admired the way he was so diligent in every movement he made, as if each one was already calculated in his head prior to his body executing it. You watched the way the muscles in his exposed forearms flexed and relaxed with each push of the mop, the expression of pure, focused determination on his otherwise handsome face. You had always admired your captain. He was everything you wished you could be: strong, willful, smart. Damn good at cleaning. The scent of him, the sound of his voice, the strength and power of his resolve, it was making your head spinー

You felt your fingers curl into fists, the fingernails digging into your palms. No, this wasn’t happening. You couldn’t afford to let yourself fall like this, and so easily. Especially not with someone like him.

But it was with him. And you had no longer had control.

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk, or are you going to work?”

A confession was on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to spill over your lips and out into the air. But at the sound of his voice, you promptly swallowed it and turned away from him in shame.

Nights in the barracks were not often quiet, but tonight was different. Normally you were accompanied by the sound of everyone else sleeping; snoring, mumbling, coughing, but tonight you had been blessed with silence.

So why couldn’t you sleep?

Was it the way you spent the rest of the time cleaning the mess hall without saying another word to Levi? Was it the way he watched you from the officer’s table at dinner, not touching his food, as if he wanted to say something to you? Was it the way you couldn’t get the scent of him out of your mind? Was it the way you wanted to spill every secret you had about your growing feelings to him, just so you could finally be able to breathe in the same room as him?

“Fuck,” you muttered, rubbing your tired eyes. “Fine.”

A few minutes later and you were at his door, barefoot and knuckles poised to knock. But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate?

“Fuck,” you whispered fiercly again, squeezing your eyes shut. You could fight Titans and look Death straight in the face on nearly every mission you went on, but you couldn’t find an ounce of courage to tell Levi how you felt?

You pressed your back against his door and sighed, feeling a lump growing in your throat. “Coward,” you muttered to yourself, tilting your head back to rest against the wood.

“(y/n)?”

You quickly lifted your head up and felt your heart drop. Levi was standing there at the end of the hall, a piece of bread in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

“S-sir!” you managed to get out. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still in your officeー”

“Is something wrong?”

You shut your mouth and hid your trembling hands behind your back. “No, nothing’s wrong, I just...felt like going for a walk.” You winced at how terrible the lie sounded.

Levi was no fool. He closed the gap between you and stood less than an arm’s length away, studying your face intently, as if he could read what you were hiding. He was so close that you could see each individual eyelash that lined those grey eyes that reminded you so much of the clouds that formed the most violent of thunderstorms, bristling and crackling with unseen energy. Your gaze flicked to his parted lips, and then back up to his eyes.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

“Nothing,” you whispered, pressing yourself against the door. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Something is obviously bothering you.”

You felt caged in, trapped, drowning in his scent and in his eyes. You wanted to run, run, runーcower beneath the safety of your blankets and never think about what his skin felt like against yours, or his fingers trailing along your bare spine, or how soft and delicate those parted lips of his were.

“Levi,” you said, almost unable to breathe in his presence. “Stop.”

“(y/n)...”

“Stop!” you exploded. His eyes went wide and he took a step away from you. “I can’t do this, I thought I could, but I’m just a coward andー”

“Do what?” he snapped. The irritation in his tone made you flinch. “What are you talking about?”

“I have feelings for you, goddammit!” you shouted.

For a moment, there was nothing, only the pregnant silence in the hallway as your confession was now hanging out to dry between you. He stared at you, dumbfounded, shockingly at a loss for words.

You gave a great, heavy sigh as the invisible weight was lifted off your shoulders. “It’s stupid, and childish, I know,” you said softly, looking down at your bare toes. “But I can’t help it.”

Levi moved past you and opened the door into his office, silently gesturing for you to follow. You obeyed, feeling humiliated and embarrassed and definitely not in the mood for a lecture on how inappropriate it all was as you slid into a chair at the table. You had no doubt Levi would squeal to Erwin in the morning and have you removed from the squad. God, all of this was a big mistakeー

“(y/n), I’m in love with you.”

You blinked and focused on him. “What?”

Levi had set his tea and bread on the table and was now leaning against it with his arms crossed, dark hair hiding his eyes. “You heard me.”

“Are you joking?”

“Am I really the joking kind?”

“I suppose not,” you quietly replied, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I just find it a little hard to believe.”

Levi actually let out a laugh. It was more of a scoff, but you took it as amusement anyway. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re my captain. I’m beneath you. I’m...just a soldier.”

Strong, calloused fingers were underneath your chin and forcing you to look up at him, shameful tears shining in your eyes. Who knew humanity’s strongest could be so gentle behind closed doors?

“You’re my soldier,” he murmured, the pad of his thumb caressing the point of your chin. “As much as I am your captain.”

“Why me?”

“It was your expert cleaning skills that first caught my attention,” he confessed, taking the seat beside you and pulling his cup of tea to him. He eyed you as he took a sip. “The more I watched and studied the way you worked, the more I appreciated and looked forward to seeing your diligence.” He set his cup down and stared at it. “That...that turned into a form of infatuation. I grew accustomed to watching you: how you walked, how you talked, how you worked. I couldn’t get enough.

“It wasn’t until that day I gave you orders to help clean my office that I knew it was more than a simple infatuation. I didn’t want to make you work. I didn’t want you to sweep my floors and dust my belongings. I wanted you to rest, I wanted you to feel safe and secure in my space.” Levi took another sip of tea and looked up at you. “I saw you had been assigned to clean the entire mess hall just hours before dinner, and I was furious. Not even I could accomplish that on my own. But I knew questions would be raised if I stepped in and altered it, so I did the next best thing.”

“Cleaning with you was the first time I’ve ever felt at peace in months,” you said softly, watching the way his throat bobbed as he drank his tea. “Even that day in the mess hall.”

Levi reached out and trailed the tip of his finger along your cheekbone, before tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re the only brat who knows how to do it right.”

You visibly preened at the compliment, which made him chuckle. “So what now?” you asked, resting your chin in your hand.

“We can do one of two things,” he said. “We can pretend like none of this ever happened and go back to our duties like normal in the morning.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken. “Or?”

“Or we can go with it. It’ll be difficult, but I’m not really one to back down from a challenge.” Levi nonchalantly continued to sip his tea. “So, what’ll it be?”

As if he needed an answer.

tagging: @a-monsters-love @unlasting @erilerichan @jennammae @greatbiscuitsword @kuurechr @heydae20 @luv4kiyoomi-archive

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fantasydaydreamers · 3 years

Note

okay first of all i love you and second of all i was wondering if u have time could you perhaps gift me some nsfw Sero? anything really! also have a wonderful day UwU! - love the alien anon you may be hearing a lot from

Okay first of all, I love you too🥺💕second of all, sure😌

Words: 1,719

Warnings: Lemon

Author's Note: Awhhh we gotta show our Tape Boy loveeeee also sorry this is late today I feel asleep typing and took a lil nap🥺

~*~*~*~*

"...Goddamnit."

The breathless whisper left your lips as you watched Sero stroll into the classroom with his new undercut. You didn't even get the word fully out of your mouth before all the girls swarmed him, cooing and fawning over his new look. Sero blushes and raises his hand, rubbing the shaved part of his head as he laughed and answered the girl's questions.

It's not fairrrr.

You lean back in your seat and let out a suppresed whine. The two of you had been best friends since being first years and as you two grew together, so did your feelings. It was hard being around him with how you managed to friend-zone yourself, but currently being third years had you realizing your time with him was almost up.

Not like you wouldn't hang out as pro-heroes, but class 1A built its reputation throughout the years and there no doubt there was a lot coming after high school.

You rubbed your hands down your face and cupped your cheeks staring at your crush who was walking your way with a bright grin on his face. "Hey, (Y/n)!"

You couldn't bring yourself to respond as he flips the chair in front of you around and staddles it so he could face you. You took that time to check him out, finally meeting his gaze again when he gets comfortable.

"Sooo...how do I look?" Sero narrows his eyes and leans in teasingly, knowing you were staring.

I mean...tie me up or whatever Cardi B said. You're so fucking sexy. God, I wish I could hold you and tell you how much I want you...bend me over right now--or even better yet, let me run my hands through your hair as you eat me-

"It looks stupid."

Sero was way too close for your liking unless it just seemed like he was too close because his eyes were so dark and you felt yourself being pulled in and--I DIDN'T MEAN THAT!

"Yeah...stupidly good!" Kaminari walks up behind Sero and starts ruffling his hair, laughing as Sero tried to push his hand away. You watch them laugh and feel the shame start to sink in. The sunrise coming through the windows highlighted Sero's form as he laughed and talked to Kami as Kirishima and Bakugou walked up too.

Kirishima gave Sero a noogie and Bakugou raised his eyebrows at Sero's new hair. Lips pursed, your gaze met Bakugou's and he gave you a knowing look, having caught on to your little secret since it developed. Damn him.

Sero didn't even react to your comment and deep down you hope he knew you weren't serious. You couldn't focus on the conversation going on and zoned out until Aizawa walked in for class and everyone took their normal seats. Sero stood up and ran a hand through the top part of his hair, fixing what Kiri and Kami messed up before fixing the chair so he could face the front.

You couldn't focus on anything besides the back of his head.

~*~*~*~*

"A group project, hm?" You walked between Bakugou and Kami on the way back to the dorms as Sero and Kirishima were too busy pushing each other around behind you three.

Aizawa announced a two-person project over the advantages of quirk compatibility and assigned unlikely pairs in the class to come up with a duet move during a fight. There was a week to get it finished before everyone had to demonstrate it. And guess who you got partnered with?

Sero's laughter rang out behind you and you cringed, feeling bad you ignored him all day. How are we supposed to get this project done if I can't stop thinking about dick for one goddamn second-

"Do you want to start today on our move, (Y/n)?" Sero came up on Bakugou's side, panting slightly as Kirishima threw his arm around Kami still laughing.

You nodded, avoiding the weird look Sero gave you before entering the dorm. "Uh...how about we brainstorm ideas?" The suggestion came out weak, but it was enough to have Sero brightening up and agreeing to go to your room.

Awkward silence was all that filled the air once you entered your room, Sero oblivious to your feelings as he whistles and throws his bag on the floor. He plops down next to your bed, leaning against it as he gets out a notebook.

You follow suit, sitting next to him but still having your eyes trained on his hair. "So I was thinking that with my new ultra move, maybe we can incorporate yours and mix them? Or do you think that's too much? How big does this combo have to be? (Y/n)? Are you even listening to me?"

You hum in response and take in his whole appearance as he turns to stare at you. "Sure. Let's do that."

A few mixed emotions cross Sero's face before he smirks and closes his notebook. "Do you want to feel my hair, (Y/n)?"

Your face heats and you're about to deny it when he grabs your hand and raises it to his head. A small gasp leaves your lips as the prickly feeling of his shaved hair brushes against your palm. Sero guides your hand onto his head and once he's sure you're holding your hand up on your own, he lets go.

Softly running your hand over the shaved part of his head, marveling over the feeling it had against your palm before running it up to the top of his head, gripping a handful of his hair.

Sero lets out a groan and closes his eyes and it's enough to snap you out of your trance and pull back sharply. "Stupid, huh?" Sero murmurs, peaking an eye open.

You turn away, not confident enough to hold eye contact with him as you see him coming closer to you from your peripheral. A soft brushing sensation was felt on your neck before lips pressed harder, making your neck automatically tilt more to give him access.

"S-Sero!" Your heart swoops as arousal floods your stomach.

Lips trail back up to your ear and teeth pull on your earlobe as fingers move under your chin, turning your face back towards him. "If you're not going to make the first move, I guess I will. Don't think I haven't noticed you eye-fucking me all day."

That was all Sero managed to mumble out before finally connecting his lips to yours. Finally. Finally. Was the only word you could think of, gasping in relief as your hands reached up to grip his hair, pulling his face closer.

The force of the pull had you falling on your back, Sero following you so he was leaning over your flustered body. He stares down at you with lust-covered eyes and a small flush on his face the mature look sending shockwaves through your body.

"I've been wanting this for a while..."

The confession leaves Sero's lips in a sigh, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek lovingly.

Your heart soars as you cup his hand and kiss his palm, watching his eyes darken slightly. "Hanta~"

Sero groans and swoops back down to kiss your lips, one of his hands starting to run up the length of your thigh, your sex throbbing the higher it got.

His teasing touches just barely graze your inner thighs before moving up to your hip, your school skirt now bunched up. Your hips wiggle in his grip as his kisses got deeper, his tongue pulling low moans from your throat, your hand stroking the back of his neck.

Pulling back, Sero maintains eye contact as he lowers himself down your body, pressing a kiss to your thigh.

"Fuck..." Your head falls back as Sero chuckles, pressing another kiss on the inside of your thigh.

"Are you that turned on, (Y/n)? I didn't know my best friend was craving some attention this bad." Sero husks, now pressing a kiss against your clothed sex.

Your hips arch highly off the floor, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as Sero chuckles again. Before you could even retort, your hips were pinned tightly to the ground and you couldn't move. Struggling to chase after more of his touch, you peek an eye open and see Sero smugly grinning at his tape which was now holding you down.

"Let me take good care of you, best friend." With that, Sero's fingers come to rub over your clothed pussy, teasing the slit and pressing down to rub your clit before repeating the motion.

Whimpers filled the room as you tried everything you could to feel more. It wasn't enough. Sero was biting his lip as he still gripped the top of your thigh, his thumb digging into the sensitive flesh on the inside of your thigh.

"Please, Sero, I need..." Your plea was cut off with a mewl as Sero did a particular rub that had your eyes rolling.

"Sero? What happened to 'Hanta?'" Sero smirked again as he pulled your panties down. Feeling the cool air had you gasping, but it wasn't long until Sero's tongue parted your lips and suckled your clit into his mouth.

"S-Sero! Fuck!" You so badly wanted to raise your hips, but the inability to move only turned you on more. The only thing you could do was hold onto his hair, your fingers tugging him closer to your throbbing pussy.

Sero was messy, slurping sounds echoing loudly in the room as your cries got louder, not caring if someone heard. This all just happened too fast and it seemed almost unreal. Sero's fingers come up and spread your lips more as he trails his tongue lower to your hole and running it back up, repeating the motion while sometimes pausing to circle your clit.

"Se-Hanta~ I'm cummi-!" Your orgasm took you by surprise, Sero's lips capturing your clit as he sucked your orgasm out of you, your hips twitching widely from oversensitivity.

You had to push on his head as he finally got the clue to pull back, purposely making a lewd pop as he did. He lazily smirked up at you, his tongue licking his lips as you tried to catch your breath.

"I think we make a great combo without quirks. What do you say, (Y/n)?"

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #sero x reader #sero x reader lemon #sero hanta #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha lemon #bnha lemon #hanta sero imagine

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phlox238 · 3 years

Text

i wrote a pretty long rymin fic and half of it is min being anxious and getting advice from a lesbian at a gay bar,,, it sucks but here it is anyway

2.5k words this is the most ive ever written

"So," The girl began, gesturing wildly with her hands. "You think you're in love with your best friend, who you've known since you were born, and you're in a band and traveling across Canada and the USA with. What did you say your name is?"

"Oh, fuck." Min-gi sighed, letting his head rest in his hands. "This is weird, isn't it? I barely know you."

"Nah, I just thought that, if we're going to have a slightly drunk chat in the back of a gay bar, then we should know each other's names. I'm Eryn, and you?" Eryn stuck out her hand, the many bracelets she wore on her wrist clanking together.

Min chuckled a little, then took her hand and shook it. Her dark skin was warm, which was surprising, since this part of the bar was near freezing. "Min-gi. But you can call me Min."

"Awesome. So, tell me about it, Min." Eryn tightened her ponytail, leaning forward on her arms.

"Tell you what about it? There's so many things that I could say." He was so caught up in this gay crisis stuff that he hadn't even considered stopping for a moment to really think about it.

Eryn shrugged. "Whatever you want to say. Get stuff off your chest, just let it out, if you want to. There's like, nobody else back here. Doesn't really matter, right? I'm not judgy."

"Okay...well, he has a girlfriend, first of all; has had many of them. So he's not into dudes." Min crossed his arms.

"Hey, he could still be. Just because he dates women doesn't mean he's straight. Could still be into guys. Don't give up hope just yet, okay?" Eryn laced her fingers together, as if she was planning something. The dark lighting of the bar didn't help anything.

“Damn,” Min rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t know you could like both.”

Not without laughing at him first, Eryn started to explain. "Oh, wow, you really are new to this, huh?" She chuckled a little more, shaking her head. “That’s okay. There’s a lot of different ways to love people, you just gotta figure out what works for you. Oh, also; it isn’t just both. There’s the genderqueer people, too, don’t forget about them!” She smiled.

Min didn’t quite know what genderqueer meant, but he figured he could find out later. He was asking too many questions already. "Damn...how do you know all of this? I only realized I was, er, gay, like six months ago." Min marveled at her, the same way a nerd at school would marvel at the 'cool kids.' And honestly, she really looked like one, with her ponytail and undercut, her yellow, patched leather jacket, even the flashy jewelry she wore.

It made Min want to start dressing differently. Dressing cooler, like Ryan, like Eryn. Maybe he could.

Eryn grinned wider. "Oh, you know. It's just things you pick up along the way. I've known that I'm lesbian for a long time, since I was like 11. And I'm 21 now, so that's a long time. Lots of experience." She shuffled a little in her seat, taking another drink of beer. "Anyway. We're getting off track, aren't we? Keep talking, man."

Min laughed, a real laugh. "Okay, okay. A year ago, we, er…" He reached desperately for an explanation for the train, but decided that, just maybe, he could tell her. Really, the worst that she could think of him is that he's a drug user. "Can I tell you something? It's going to sound absolutely insane, probably, but I just. Need to tell someone."

She looked concerned, her dark brown eyes wide, but nodded anyway. "That's real ominous. But sure, go for it."

"Okay. So. Stick with me, here. A year ago, him and I got on a train, right? But then, there was another train door within the train. We just...went into the door. Well, the bastard threw my keys into it and then ran in, so how could I not follow?" Eryn was looking at him intently like she understood. Min could tell he was pretty drunk by now; he'd never be able to open up to someone this much sober. But that's okay. More than okay, really.

"It gets even weirder from then on. Ryan- that's his name, by the way- and I woke up on a giant, infinie train in the middle of nowhere. Gotta be pretty unbelievable, though. You probably think I'm on drugs." Min sighed.

Eryn was silent for a moment, but it was obvious she was getting ready to explode. "Dude, no fucking way!" Yep, there it was. "I got on that train! When I was eleven. I was super conflicted on my sexuality, had a shit ton of internalized homophobia as a result of having homophobic family. I felt like a disgusting person. So I got on the train, and it actually helped me through it." She'd completely lit up when Min mentioned the train. Looked like she was going to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

For a moment, Min was speechless. Soon, though, he regained his voice. "You're kidding," was all he could muster.

"Nope." Eryn's grin nearly reached her ears. "Did you have someone to help you along, too? There was a white cat named Samantha for me. She was French, for some reason. But I miss her."

"Oh! Yeah, Ryan and I had a floating, talking bell named Kez. Weird, right?. I miss her, too. Wonder how she's doing." Min thought for a second, completely and utterly relieved to have met someone else to share an experience with. Then something clicked. "Hold on...I might have met this cat you speak of. Yellow eyes? Uh, blonde...hair?"

"Blonde hair? Well, she didn't have that. But yeah, yellow eyes, French accent." Eryn nodded. They were silent for a moment.

Min chuckled, suddenly getting the urge to continue on with their story. Telling someone about the train would feel wonderful. "We had a lot of...issues...regarding our friendship, at the time. That's why the train picked us up in the first place." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "The train did help us. But we had a lot of weirdly intimate moments on it, and that's where my sexuality crisis started. Like, there was a car where we had to perform a song with each other to get out of it, and of course I got stage fright right before it. I left him alone on stage. Again." Min paused, the guilt almost making him feel like he was living through that moment again.

Eryn nudged him. "And? That doesn't sound intimate. What happened next?"

"I hid in the bathroom. So he came in, and at first he was angry, but I was having a full on anxiety attack. We sat in the bathtub, hip to hip, knee to knee. It was weird, but nice. He helped me calm down. And like...in our last year of Highschool, I gave him a shirt with our band name on it. In that bath tub, he had it with him. He kept it. Said he'd never done a show without it." Min laughed, but there wasn't much humor about it. "Man, I wanted to kiss him so bad right then and there. But I didn't."

Eryn had a soft look in her eyes. "I dunno about you, but that sounds pretty damn gay to me. Maybe he's just dating other people to distract himself from his crush on you, who knows! All I'm trying to say is, don't give up on this, Min. You two have something going on, I don't know what, but it could blossom into a relationship." She patted him on the shoulder, then took another drink of her beer.

Min did the same. "What if he's not gay?" His voice was small. "Worse, what if he's homophobic? I don't know...fuck, it's terrifying. I could lose him because I'm gay."

"Well," Eryn paused for a moment, "you could try and subtly bring it into conversation. Maybe, like, bring up a celebrity who's gay. See his reaction." She gestured with her hands a lot, Min noticed.

Min nodded. It seemed simple in theory, but he knew he'd manage to fuck it up somehow. The logical part of his brain knew Ryan wouldn't leave him for being gay, but at the same time, there was this voice in the back of his head. Irrational thoughts, irrational fears; that's all it spoke of.

"Thank you. Really. It's been nice to talk about this, especially with someone who's been on the train. That thing is...a freak of nature. Maybe not even nature, I don't know. I'll try that with him, too." Min said finally, after some silence. Eryn laughed.

"Yeah, it absolutely is." She smiled widely. Eryn glanced around, her eyes finally landing on the only visible clock in this part of the bar. Her eyes widened. "Shit, I should really get going! Sorry. I told my girlfriend I'd be back around now." She, out of nowhere, gave Min a hug. It'd been a while since he'd hugged anyone, he realized, and it felt nice. Although, very unexpected.

Min hugged her back, sort of awkwardly. They separated soon after.

"That's okay. Again...thank you, so much. I should get young too." By now, it was almost 11 pm, and he figured he should leave as well. Ryan should be back at their apartment soon enough.

Min was about to turn and leave, but Eryn stopped him.

"Hey! How about we exchange phone numbers? This was a good chat, eh? I'd like to stay in contact." Eryn searched her pockets for a pen and some paper, but only found a marker. "Can I, like, write it on your arm and you can do the same?"

Min knew Ryan would tease him over it, but oh, well, he made a new friend. "Yeah, that's fine." He laughed, offering her his arm. She quickly scribbled her number on it, and honestly, it was barely legible. But he could read it, somewhat.

He then wrote his number on her arm, they exchanged goodbyes, and were on their way. Min dreaded returning to Ryan, who would definitely start to go on and on about his girlfriend, and just prove to make Min feel worse about his stupid crush.

But maybe, just maybe, Eryn was right. Maybe things would finally go his way for once.

•••

Min's walk home was quiet (as quiet as New York can be at night) and cold, it being the middle of November. Snow was just beginning to fall. Being outside Eryn's words stuck in his head like glue. Talk to him. As if he could do that. The idea of even just mentioning anything close to being gay made anxiety rise in his throat like bile.

He couldn't. Probably.

Before he could think much more on it, he was home. Home. Back to the decent one bedroom apartment they'd scraped up all of the money in their pockets to buy. Back to the scent of cigarette smoke in the air, back to the strange stains on the carpet in the hallway. Most importantly, back to Ryan. No matter how much resentment Min-gi might hold to him for having a girlfriend, Ryan usually made things better.

He walked up the stairs and down the hall to apartment number 202, ironically. Unlocked and opened the door to find it dark inside save for a single lamp. Min walked in, curious, just to find Ryan curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. That really made him anxious.

"Hey...Ryan? You good, man?" Min sat on the empty portion of the sofa, near his head.

Ryan stirred, rolling over onto his back. His head was resting a bit on Min's thigh, and it felt kind of nice.

"I dunno…" He mumbled. "She broke up with me."

"What?" Min looked down at Ryan, surprised. "Lisa? You're kidding."

"Nope, not kidding." Ryan laced his fingers together over his stomach. "The thing is...I'm like, kind of relieved that she did it? How fucked up is that?"

Min tilted his head in confusion. He really wanted to run his hand through Ryan's hair, but that was a really inappropriate thought for the moment.

"She, uh...said some things. When she broke up with me." He sighed. "Called me a fag." Ryan laughed, like he found it funny. Min didn't.

"Dude, what? Why?" Min's voice was a little shaky, for no other reason than that they were talking about gay people.

Ryan sighed. "Take a good look at us, Min." He brought his forearm up to cover his eyes. "We're two dudes, living in a one bedroom apartment together. We do everything together. Of course she's gonna think there's something going on."

Min felt like he was going to fucking disintegrate. "U-Uh...and that's a bad thing?"

"I mean...no. It just kind of clicked that...maybe she's right. Maybe I am gay." Ryan sat up, his back facing towards Min. He didn't look back. " I always assumed that I'd be straight, but this...it makes sense. None of my relationships have ever worked out. With women."

Min reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "Ryan...it's okay."

Ryan looked back, now, and his eyes were watery. Min frowned.

“How could it be okay?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “It’s just another reason for people to hate me. For my parents to hate me. Hell, maybe even you.” By the time that he finished talking, his voice was almost inaudible.

"No!" Min almost shouted, jolting forward. "No. Ryan, I could never hate you." Fuck, how was he supposed to tell Ryan he's gay now? Part of him wanted to shout it out impulsively, but the other part, it just wanted to keep hiding. Because what if something goes wrong? What if Ryan's in love with someone else? All what ifs. He really needed to stop.

Min inhaled deeply. Here goes. "This is gonna sound really coincidental, but...I'm gay too."

Quickly, Ryan turned around to face Min. His eyes were wide behind his glasses.

"What? No fucking way. You're kidding." Ryan was leaning forward, using his fists to prop him up.

Min shook his head. "No...I'm not. I was gonna tell you soon anyway, but now seemed like a good time." He scratched his head awkwardly.

Then, Ryan launched at him, hugging him. Arms wrapped around his neck, knees touching Min's thighs, the whole package. Min was sure he'd die with how flushed his face was; but thankfully, he didn't.

After what felt like a while, Ryan finally spoke.

"I love you." He mumbled into Min's shoulder.

Min paused. "In a gay way, or…?"

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, you idiot." He shook his head in amusement.

"Good. That's...great." He hugged Ryan tighter, finally letting himself run his fingers through his hair. It was soft, just like he expected. "I love you too."

#rymin #infinity train #infinity train book 4 #ryan akagi #min gi park #infinity train season 4

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